Editing Emma: Online you can choose who you want to be. If only real life were so easy...

Editing Emma: Online you can choose who you want to be. If only real life were so easy... Chloe Seager Move over Georgia Nicolson. Say goodbye to Geek Girl. Meet Emma Nash.When sixteen year old Emma is ghosted by love of her life Leon Naylor she does what any normal girl would do.Emma spends the summer lurking in her bedroom, avoiding all human contact (and the shower), surrounded by the collection of chewit wrappers she saved from packs Leon gave her, back when he actually acknowledged her existence…But seeing Leon suddenly ‘In a relationship’ on Facebook with the perfect Anna, spurs Emma into action and she embarks on a mission to make positive changes to her life (or ‘edits,’ if you will) and vows to use the internet for more than obsessively stalking Leon’s activities! Instead, she will use it for good and noble causes like finding someone who will actually be nice to her, and recording her findings for the rest of the world to see (i.e. BFF Steph and her mum) on her new Editing Emma blog.But Emma soon discovers her ‘habit’ is harder to break than she first thought – turns out she’s not the only one ‘editing’ herself online (thank you Tinder for finding her mum’s profile, age 35, really?) and that life through an Instagram filter isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. But it could be worse, she could have outed her best friend, accidentally chatted up a 12 year old boy and revealed to the world why Leon Naylor is worth no girl’s time or virginity… oh no wait, that’s exactly what happened… Copyright (#ulink_60263daa-2683-584e-8599-c0fc5261533b) An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2017 Copyright © Chloe Seager 2017 Chloe Seager asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Ebook Edition © August 2017 ISBN: 9780008220983 Version: 2018-04-03 CHLOE SEAGER grew up in East London with her mum and much-loved cat, Katie. She studied English Literature and Drama at the University of East Anglia, where she sadly realised she couldn’t act, but did rediscover her love of children’s books. Children’s Literature was one of her favourite modules, and it made her wonder why grown-ups ever stopped reading them. She now works with them full time as a YA/Children’s literary agent, and lives back in East London with her boyfriend and pet fish. Editing Emma is her first book. Contents Cover (#uf578649e-1b27-5da3-8ccd-a9c2a0854054) Title Page (#u15cfbed9-4ce8-5230-a8eb-362ad2088438) Copyright (#ulink_a3bb6123-00d1-5d4f-90c4-ff7b41527de2) About the Author (#ulink_8dca5bf6-082d-5e0e-a92d-d8ef5c572a5a) My Dingy Internet Cave Tuesday, 2 September i.e. Day 45 of Despair (#ulink_3ddbe1df-6cc7-5af2-be38-2b7880200124) Wednesday, 3 September i.e. Day 46 of Despair (#ulink_e19d1f08-974e-5839-87bb-6711a81bd175) Thursday, 4 September i.e. Day 47 of Despair (#ulink_190af4db-fd49-557b-ab20-841e267b4cdd) Friday, 5 September i.e. Day 48 of Despair (#ulink_01685e5d-8d35-5fcf-a5c8-218938623676) Saturday, 6 September i.e. Day 1 of Recovery (#ulink_dd9f41d5-0933-5e53-8e9b-780555c30bf7) Editing Emma (The Secret Blog of A Nearly Proper Person) (#ulink_31f9d265-d6f1-517c-8112-fbd33c3626ca) Sunday, 7 September (#ulink_c194cddb-d36c-597e-9d53-f0d9219d034a) Monday, 8 September (#ulink_595c40ca-7e57-5880-80f2-194c531d44d7) Tuesday, 9 September (#ulink_6f1b2500-f9b2-5f6a-93d0-a05d2b05de43) Wednesday, 10 September (#ulink_381e1a62-dfbe-5fab-a252-3e91eb727926) Thursday, 11 September (#ulink_5559f653-a58a-5616-8020-c73ede982e6d) Friday, 12 September (#ulink_5b3c44b9-34ac-50b0-8a63-b6441f5e3eb1) Saturday, 13 September (#ulink_e18d604b-3514-51bc-916e-c426bc07f482) Sunday, 14 September (#litres_trial_promo) Monday, 15 September (#litres_trial_promo) Tuesday, 16 September (#litres_trial_promo) Wednesday, 17 September (#litres_trial_promo) Thursday, 18 September (#litres_trial_promo) Friday, 19 September (#litres_trial_promo) Saturday, 20 September (#litres_trial_promo) Sunday, 21 September (#litres_trial_promo) Monday, 22 September (#litres_trial_promo) Tuesday, 23 September (#litres_trial_promo) Wednesday, 24 September (#litres_trial_promo) Thursday, 25 September (#litres_trial_promo) Friday, 26 September (#litres_trial_promo) Saturday, 27 September (#litres_trial_promo) Sunday 28th September (#litres_trial_promo) Monday, 29 September (#litres_trial_promo) Tuesday, 30 September (#litres_trial_promo) Wednesday, 1 October (#litres_trial_promo) Thursday, 2 October (#litres_trial_promo) Friday 3rd October (#litres_trial_promo) Saturday, 4 October (#litres_trial_promo) Sunday, 5 October (#litres_trial_promo) Monday 6th October (#litres_trial_promo) Tuesday, 7 October (#litres_trial_promo) Wednesday, 8 October (#litres_trial_promo) Thursday 9th October (#litres_trial_promo) Friday, 10 October (#litres_trial_promo) Saturday, 11 October (#litres_trial_promo) Sunday, 12 October (#litres_trial_promo) Monday, 13 October (#litres_trial_promo) Tuesday, 14 October (#litres_trial_promo) Wednesday, 15 October (#litres_trial_promo) Thursday, 16 October (#litres_trial_promo) Friday, 17 October (#litres_trial_promo) Saturday, 18 October (#litres_trial_promo) Sunday, 19 October (#litres_trial_promo) Monday, 20 October (#litres_trial_promo) Tuesday, 21 October (#litres_trial_promo) Wednesday, 22 October (#litres_trial_promo) Thursday, 23 October (#litres_trial_promo) Friday, 24 October (#litres_trial_promo) Saturday, 25 October (#litres_trial_promo) Sunday, 26 October (#litres_trial_promo) Editing Emma (#litres_trial_promo) Acknowledgments (#litres_trial_promo) About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo) My Dingy Internet Cave Tuesday, 2 September i.e. Day 45 of Despair (#ulink_1ced9ac3-53e4-55e2-aa15-11b4e4732ff0) posted by MissH 15.03 Leon Naylor is in a relationship with Anna McDonnell. 3 mins Huh… That’s funny. Because I thought he was in a relationship with me. posted by MissH 16.05 My phone rings. And rings. And rings. It’s Steph. Then Faith. Then Gracie. I know they mean well (except Gracie, who will be not-so-secretly enjoying this) but I really don’t want to speak to anyone. Maybe ever again. I will limit human contact to only when it’s strictly necessary, i.e. my mum when I need food. Maybe she’d even consider getting a little hatch put in my bedroom door. posted by MissH 17.14 Staring at the status as it gets more and more comments and likes, becoming more and more real as I become more and more discarnate. I guess that explains why he hasn’t spoken to me all summer, then. How could he do this? Am I not even worth a proper break-up? Was I that unimportant, that he can just act like I never existed? I wasn’t even made Facebook official. I didn’t even have the dignity of him ending our relationship in person or online before starting a new one. I have been left in the shadows, invisible and unacknowledged. Has he been meeting up with her all this time? All this time I’ve been sending out deranged, thinly veiled tweets that are OBVIOUSLY about him? Or posting photos that say, ‘LOOK AT ME IN THIS REVEALING OUTFIT HAVING SO MUCH FUN. I’M COMPLETELY FINE WHO NEEDS YOU LALALA’, when really Steph had put me to bed by 7 pm sobbing in my heels. Through all of that, he’s been starting another relationship? For how long? I did see her on a group shot on that day out to Hyde Park, but I thought she knew one of his friends, or something. posted by MissH 19.36 This is what the inside of my brain looks like: Leon Naylor is in a relationship with Anna McDonnell. Leon Naylor is in a relationship with Anna McDonnell. Leon Naylor is in a relationship with Anna McDonnell. Leon Naylor is in a relationship with Anna McDonnell. Leon Naylor is in a relationship with Anna McDonnell. Leon Naylor is in a relationship with Anna McDonnell. Leon Naylor is in a relationship with Anna McDonnell. Leon Naylor is in a relationship with Anna McDonnell. Leon Naylor is in a relationship with Anna McDonnell. Leon Naylor is in a relationship with Anna McDonnell. Leon Naylor is in a relationship with Anna McDonnell. Leon Naylor is in a relationship with Anna McDonnell. posted by MissH 21.05 It almost feels better, now that I know for certain. (Almost. But not quite.) He really has been ignoring me. As if all the other evidence wasn’t enough: He started to ‘miss’ my calls, and didn’t call me back. Even when I got Steph to phone him from her mum’s number, and he answered, I convinced myself it was probably a coincidence. Maybe the twenty or so times I called him, he really had been in the shower. He stopped replying to my texts. I was so sure they’d been accidentally swallowed into an abyss by O2. (Who I did ring, frantically, several times.) He detagged ALL pictures of us. I still can’t believe I was kidding myself about that one. I thought maybe it was a weird error, or his friends did it as a joke. But really, it seems like quite an extreme length to go to, to break up with someone… Surely just telling them is easier? posted by MissH 23.37 The Forgotten Photos Can’t sleep so I made a list of my favourite pictures of us, that he so coldly detagged. Because we did have a relationship, it did exist and I am not hallucinating. I am not hallucinating. Wednesday, 3 September i.e. Day 46 of Despair (#ulink_61acfe94-3c69-52df-8fb8-13044423071d) posted by MissH 11.30 Sitting in the living room, steaming my stye with a bowl of boiling water. My hair has not been brushed for three days or washed for six, unless you count dry shampoo. There is a dark stain on my pyjamas from where I was too eager with a tub of chocolate mousse. According to all the TV shows that ever cast glamorous twenty-five-year-old women to represent me, this is NOT how my teenage life is supposed to look. It also seems a little unfair that I get dumped, and grow a big, red, painful lump on my eye from the stress of it. Still, maybe it’s an important life lesson to learn. Give someone your undying love, they give you a stye. posted by MissH 11.32 Not even dumped. Avoided. I had to work out for myself that I was dumped. posted by MissH 13.03 I can’t seem to get off Anna’s profile. There are lots of pictures of her doing sports (I think she is the Hockey Captain). Should I have paid more attention in Games instead of using the time to chase Gracie around with my stick? And she has… wait for it… a baking blog. It’s called, I kid you not: Scrumptiously, Anna. There are lots of videos of her whisking cake mixture whilst looking, quite seriously, into the camera. Should I have paid more attention in FT? I want to say she’s not, but she’s indisputably pretty. I have named her Apple in my head to make her less threatening. posted by MissH 17.48 Still, she might be pretty, but there’s something really bland about people who always have the same expression in photos. Boring face. Boring face. Boring face. Boring face. I mean, yes, we all have our standard poses (I am a fan of the tongue-poke), but seriously… PHOTO after PHOTO of that insipid smile. She may as well just have one photo. The only way you can tell it’s even a different night is because she’s changed her cardigan. posted by MissH 18.56 APPLE AND EMMA: THE PRO/CON LIST NB: evidence gathered only from photos (not totally solid) and self-reflection (notoriously difficult) APPLE CONS: She can’t quite smile properly. This may or may not mean something very significant about her personality. PROS: She’s all nice and pretty and wins sports tournaments and things for the school. She has a baking blog and makes cakes for her friends. EMMA CONS: I have been told my smile is ‘demonic’. I can’t do ANY form of sports (though I have been told watching me fall over provided ‘light comic relief’ on Sports Day. Should this go in the Con or Pro list?). PROS: I’m not not nice. I’m not not pretty, when I bother to brush my hair. I have an encyclopedic knowledge of rubbish TV shows. I have a blog, too, though it’s mainly dedicated to self-pity, and it never results in cake. Looking at it this way, I think I know who I’d choose, too. posted by MissH 21.14 God, look at me. I have now, officially, wasted the entire day staring into the vacant eyes of my ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend. Still, as Jennifer Lawrence once said, ‘You try being twenty-two, having a period and staying away from Google! I once Googled “Jennifer Lawrence Ugly”.’ If J-Law isn’t strong enough to resist the self-destructive charms of the internet, then what hope do I have? posted by MissH 23.58 Going to sleep, stroking the plaster under my pillow. The plaster under my pillow It is, obviously, Leon’s. One night, Mum went out and in a very thoughtless act of selfishness she left ingredients in the fridge, but failed to put them together into a shepherd’s pie. So, I was VERY hungry and wondering what I was supposed to do with this pile of meat and vegetables, and I Snapchatted Leon a picture of me holding a peeler, looking confused. He sent back a picture of himself holding up his hand, with a message that I remember very clearly because I screen-shot it and had it as my background for a month, ‘PUT THE PEELER DOWN. I’ll be there in 5. I quite like your fingers and I’d hate to lose one to a pie.’ (Message to Steph ten seconds later: ‘He likes my fingers! He likes my FINGERS!’) I stood around dithering, hopping from one foot to the other and shaking my arms above my head. I kept trying to position myself in ways that felt natural, but I seemed to have forgotten how to stand. Then there was a knock that vibrated through the house. My heart pounded like it was Jack Nicholson at the door holding an axe, and I slowly edged towards it. When I let him in I was so nervous I couldn’t even look at him. I turned round, and he collapsed in a fit of laughter. ‘Thanks for the warning,’ he spluttered, pointing at my shoulders. I completely forgot I was wearing my pyjamas that say, ‘I Fart. What’s Your Superpower?’ on the back. ‘What? Oh… Steph bought them for me as a joke!!’ I turned to face him, dying a little inside. ‘So you don’t fart?’ he asked. ‘I… No,’ I said, carefully walking backwards into the kitchen. ‘What? Never?’ ‘No. Never.’ ‘I’m going to have to call you out on that one, Emma, because that’s a physical impossibility. The average person produces half a litre of farts every day.’ ‘…Well…I don’t.’ ‘If you hold them in they come out in your sleep. Maybe that’s why Steph got you the pyjamas. You think you never fart but actually by night you are Explosive Emma.’ ‘You seem to be worryingly full of gas knowledge.’ ‘You seem to be worryingly full of gas.’ ‘Are you going to help, or did you just come to insult me?’ ‘Pass me the knife.’ He smiled. As he began chopping, I remember feeling very solemn, like it was some kind of pivotal moment in our relationship that I should honour. Leon was in my kitchen. Chopping a carrot. He passed me the little pieces of vegetable and I took them very delicately, like he was handing me a baby. ‘You’d better not start calling me Explosive Emma.’ ‘Already changing it in my Contacts,’ he said, reaching for his phone. I threw a potato at his head. ‘It works in reference to your violent nature, too.’ ‘I hate you.’ ‘Do you?’ he asked, looking straight at me. I suddenly felt like I was made of glass and all my insides were on show. My stomach started backflipping, as he moved imperceptibly towards me… ‘Bollocks,’ he said, breaking eye contact. It took me a second to register he’d cut his finger. ‘The irony,’ he said sheepishly, as I ran to get a wet cloth and started dabbing at him. ‘Haha, yes, irony, yes.’ Touching Leon, touching Leon, touching Leon. ‘Thanks, Emma.’ ‘No problem.’ I would gladly clean up your blood by licking it off the counter. ‘Can I have a plaster?’ ‘Sure.’ Take all the plasters. Take everything. That fruit bowl. That pile of Vogue magazines. My shoes. My vital organs. So… yes. That is the story of the plaster. I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve ever found anything so satisfying as putting on that plaster. Before he left he put it in the bin and took another one, and I took it out of the bin, wrapped it in cling film and put it under my pillow. Yes. Fine. I admit it. I’M NOT PROUD OF IT, OK. As long as I remember that this is freakish behaviour, it’s definitely sort of OK. And luckily I have Steph to remind me. (‘THROW IT AWAY NOW YOU COMPLETE WEIRDO’ I believe were her exact words.) I put the sacred pie in the fridge, ate some toast and went to bed. The pie didn’t last very long because Mum ate it the next day. She didn’t understand why I was so upset, though. Thursday, 4 September i.e. Day 47 of Despair (#ulink_857527c5-66c2-5319-8ebe-be260340b9e8) posted by MissH 12.03 Only just got up and already wish I hadn’t. Not a single Snapchat or WhatsApp. You’d think someone might have bothered. I mean, I’m not speaking to anyone, but you’d think they might have tried a bit harder. posted by MissH 14.59 A picture of them has been uploaded. A PICTURE OF THEM HAS BEEN UPLOADED. They’re at London Zoo, in front of the squirrel monkey exhibit. Anna is standing half smiling and Leon is crouching down pretending to be one of the animals. He looks like he’s having so much fun. Are they there now? Are they there now having fun whilst I’m here sitting looking at them having fun and feeling as if I’ll never have fun again??? I can’t believe they went to London Zoo. On a date. A date to London Zoo like a real couple. A real couple in a real, Facebook official relationship. UGH. It’s like celebrities who have a verified tick on Twitter. It just makes them more valid as a human being, somehow. posted by MissH 15.30 Mum came back from a meeting with a new client and started babbling at me from the hallway. It did actually feel nice to hear someone talking in the real world, even if it was about mood lighting and sinks without plugs. ‘Anyway, I told her I don’t care how nice they look, a sink without a plug is insane. I refuse to be that kind of designer…’ She came in, looked at me, and sighed. ‘Lovely, is that how you greet me now?’ I demanded. ‘I’m sick of you, quite frankly, Emma. Look, I know you’re upset,’ she blathered on, ‘but it doesn’t mean you can lounge around here being moody, not cleaning up after yourself.’ One time I forgot to clear up my breakfast tray, and now I will never hear the end of it. And if she chooses to refer to my heartbreak in such diminishing terms i.e. ‘being moody,’ then I will obviously choose not to answer her. She stood in the doorway, scanning me with judging eyes. ‘You’re not the only one who’s ever been upset in a relationship, you know. What about me? The Poison Penns? The entire world?’ (Who are the Poison Penns?) ‘I know you’ve been upset, Mum.’ I wanted to add, ‘because you make poor decisions,’ but I didn’t. ‘Get up and get on with it,’ she said, walking off before I could get another word in. I hate it when she does that!! Of course, I could get up and get on with it, but I’m too comfortable. Why can’t a girl have a few months where she lies in her own filth and literally doesn’t move unless it’s to urinate? I’m hardly going to start taking life advice from her. Reasons I will not be taking life advice from my mother: posted by MissH 22.31 Still, I can be mean about her online dating antics all I like but she may have a point. I thought it was time to finally communicate with the outside world and get a valid, non-parental opinion. So Steph came over. When she arrived I heard Mum say, ‘She’s somewhere in the darkness. Just follow the smell.’ ‘How are you?’ Steph asked cautiously, perching on the edge of the sofa. I looked even more pale and sickly next to her gorgeous dark skin, and she looked really good in her football kit. It sort of made me maybe want to get changed out of my giant, stained pyjamas, but only for a moment. ‘Fine,’ I replied. ‘Clearly,’ she said, glancing at the huge pile of tissues at my feet. We sat in silence for a moment, and then I broke down in tears. ‘He’s got another girlfriend,’ I sobbed. ‘I know,’ she said, putting her arms around me. ‘And he didn’t even tell me.’ ‘I know.’ ‘I’m nothing.’ ‘You’re not nothing. You’re definitely something.’ We stayed hugging for a while, until she said, ‘Emma, this is all lovely and everything, but on second thoughts can we hug after you’ve had a shower?’ She moved away. ‘Oh God. Look at me. This happened two months ago and I still feel exactly the same about it. I mean, yes, that status only just came up. But we stopped speaking at the beginning of summer. In two months I have made zero progress. How is that possible?’ ‘Maybe because instead of actually trying to make progress you keep stewing over how you’ve made no progress.’ I sensed her annoyance, then. It was time to ask the important question. ‘Steph, am I being truly unbearable?’ ‘No, I mean… well…’ ‘It’s OK. You can tell me.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Well, the rate at which you ask me how I am has definitely gone down in proportion with how much you sit around pretending to be Miss Havisham. But that’s fine, there’s definitely an allowance for this.’ ‘Ugh, for about two weeks, not two months. I’m so sorry.’ ‘Emma, it’s OK, I don’t mind. I’m just a bit worried. Don’t you think it’s time to move on? I mean… Leon has.’ ‘Owch.’ ‘I’m sorry, Emmy, I’m not trying to be mean. I just really want you to see it like it is. I know you liked him, that’s probably an understatement, but…’ ‘But he’s with Anna now. Who is categorically better than me. I know, I have the proof.’ ‘What are you talking about?’ ‘I made a pro/con list.’ ‘I… You did WHAT?!’ For some reason this made her truly, deeply angry with me. Angrier than she has been with me all summer, angrier than she was when Oberyn’s head got squished on Game of Thrones. She launched into a full on rant, ‘EMMA. A PRO/CON LIST?! Come on!! Where’s your dignity and… sense of self worth?! Where’s your feminism?! You’re not like… objects to be compared!!! You’re both PEOPLE. Leon treating you like this has nothing to do with Anna, or you, and by the way… you completely don’t deserve to be treated like this!!!’ She took my phone and made me delete the pro/con list. Eventually, she calmed down, and started breathing normally again. Before she left I said, ‘I’m not pretending to be Miss Havisham, by the way, I’m channelling her.’ ‘Whatever you say.’ posted by MissH 23.18 Ugh. Steph is so, so right!! An Emma/Apple pro/con list??? Is this what I’ve been reduced to?! Measuring myself against another girl? I should never have been left to sit around wondering what I did wrong, and I definitely shouldn’t be sitting around comparing myself with Leon’s new girlfriend!!! Making myself feel bad, or feeling the need to insult her when this is completely not her fault! People are different, and you know what, if he didn’t like me and he liked Bland Face then he should have had the guts to say it to my face. Or at least my direct message inbox. An Ode To Steph Oh Steph you make the skies seem blue, which they are in fact and that is true, but without you they might as well be poo, because without you oh what, oh what would I do? Quite like that. Sent it to her. She said: You are a freak. Sx 23.14 Friday, 5 September i.e. Day 48 of Despair (#ulink_e28ba23e-48e6-5f9d-a875-3a9313f4a2a5) posted by MissH 12.46 Ghosting – Is This An Actual Thing? Got an email from Gracie. It said, ‘I know you don’t want to talk but this might help xx’ and then she linked me to some article about something called ‘ghosting’. The Urban Dictionary definition of ‘Ghosting’, just in case you were wondering: The act of suddenly ceasing all communication with someone the subject is dating, but no longer wishes to date. This is done in hopes that the ghostee will just ‘get the hint’ and leave the subject alone, as opposed to the subject simply telling them he/she is no longer interested. Was this supposed to make me feel better?!?! posted by MissH 18.28 Spent the last five hours reading horror stories about ghosting. One woman was dating a man for eighteen months, had met his parents and agreed to move in, and one day he was just… gone. She went round to his flat and he’d moved out. She eventually got in touch with his old flatmate and apparently he was living in Scotland with another girl. Even more bizarre, one woman had been married (yes, MARRIED) to a man for twelve years (TWELVE YEARS) and one day they went to the local swimming pool. One moment he was there, doing his lengths nearby, and the next he was gone. Just like that. Did he get up and go in his trunks?? It’s two years later and she’s still technically married to him. Aghh, I must stop this! YET ANOTHER DAY HAS BEEN WASTED FEELING SORRY FOR MYSELF. I need to focus on something else, anything else!! THE TIME HAS COME. Something good has to come out of this pathetic, miserable summer!! I will forget about Leon and his complete, utter rejection of me that makes me want to do nothing but lie in darkness watching serial killer documentaries on Netflix. I WILL NOT BE LEFT LOST AND CONFUSED IN A SWIMMING POOL. I deserve so much more than a ‘ghosting’, and so does every other human being on the planet! I always knew it, in a sort of vague way like how you know you should floss, but now I’m really starting to feel it. Ugh. What a JERK. He had me feeling bad about not baking. I HATE BAKING. AND THAT IS FINE. It’s not like he’s so perfect, either… Let’s take a moment to examine Leon’s CONS, why don’t we!! posted by MissH 18.57 Reasons Why Leon Naylor Is NOT Worth Any Girl’s Time or Virginity Oh, and his brother is better looking than him, too. I hate him. posted by MissH 23.48 I’m going to bed consumed with rage. I’m shaking a little bit and my teeth are chattering, I’m so angry. At least, I am for about five minutes and then I feel sad again. And then angry. And then sad. It feels good to finally be angry, I think, but it also feels like my body is too small for everything that’s going on inside me. It’s like a cage. How can everything that I’m feeling be contained in me, in this little room, in this little house? And everyone else’s feelings inside them, in their little rooms, in their little houses? All trapped inside ourselves sitting alongside each other in this big mess? Why hasn’t the world imploded? I think anger must mean I’m feeling a bit better, anyway. Saturday, 6 September i.e. Day 1 of Recovery (#ulink_f92c97e1-2782-5429-b130-8ce5e89abe48) posted by MissH 10.50 Fuelled by a new outrage that has lasted for over twenty-four hours now, I have decided to take some action in my life. This has seemed a very remote and unreachable possibility all summer, and my reasons for feeling this way now are four-fold: 1. Anger and disbelief that I have been sitting around being this pitiable, for this long, over someone who has yet to even pay me the courtesy of a rude break-up text. 2. Panic that my own mother and best friend will stop talking to me if I don’t stop being so annoying. It’s not like I’m exactly swimming in friends as it is. 3. The realisation that not only have I succeeded in alienating all my friends, I seem to have estranged myself. (When did that happen? When did I become this pathetic person I really, intensely dislike?) 4. A belief (or hope) that there must surely be a better use for the internet than for self-involved moping and stalking my ex-boyfriend. For these reasons I have started redesigning my blog, which is as pathetic as I am. Goodbye, My Dingy Internet Cave. posted by MissH 11.01 Should I also throw away my Chewit wrapper collection of all the Chewits Leon ever gave me? posted by MissH 11.04 Let’s not go too far. Editing Emma (The Secret Blog of A Nearly Proper Person) (#ulink_c0b55627-14ad-549f-b2e9-f624875004e0) posted by EditingEmma 11.47 Today is the day. Today is the day that I, Emma Nash – in light of the above realisations – set upon a mission that I hope will change lives, beginning with that of my own, and then maybe my mother’s. From this moment on I shall no longer be Emma, but Editing Emma, striving to make positive changes to my life (or ‘edits’, if you will). I have made a discovery of what I consider to be one of the human race’s biggest untapped resources… the internet. OK, so the internet has already technically been discovered and has in fact become the world’s most important tool for communication. BUT, when it comes to DATING, I strongly believe we’ve been using it the wrong way. Here’s why: For the past two months I have used it to stalk the same, not-worth-anyone’s-time-or-virginity waste of space over and over, thus never getting over it and perpetuating the myth that we are still somewhat involved. I have used it only to make myself feel more alone and focus on the person who abandoned me, rather than for connecting with other human beings (i.e. THE WHOLE REASON IT WAS INVENTED). Though my mother does use it to ‘connect’, as it were, I often observe her on whatever new dating site she is currently a member of meeting EXACTLY the same kind of creeps she meets down the pub. For these reasons, I feel we have been missing out on all the internet has to offer. Over 50 per cent of people in THE WORLD have a presence on a social network, and we are each and every one of us connected to hundreds, maybe thousands of other human beings… Amongst these there is bound to be someone out there for all of us – someone maybe even already in our life, who we may well have met and overlooked. From now on, instead of using the internet to obsess over the same person, I will try using it to get to know someone different. What’s more, someone NOT AT ALL LIKE LEON. I am determined to prove to myself and my fellow comrades in the search for an at least 50 per cent functional relationship that, with the internet’s help, it can and will be found. (I think. Maybe. Let’s give it a try.) RESOLUTIONS 1. Stop isolating myself. I will do this by: 2. STOP obsessing about Leon, and stalking him online. I will do this by… Behold… my new blog. posted by EditingEmma 12.07 Experiment 1 Facebook: Because the Person You’ve Been Looking For Could Be Right Under Your Virtual Nose Right. Time to start on my resolutions… If I want to begin the new term afresh, I’m going to have to stop stalking Leon. And, er… start stalking other people. posted by EditingEmma 12.43 Or I could always go to my room and masturbate all afternoon. It does seem infinitely more appealing. posted by EditingEmma 13.18 Six orgasms in half an hour. That’s one every five minutes. If you look at my daily activity based on masturbation alone, I’m actually an incredibly productive person. posted by EditingEmma 15.02 I’ve bathed. It happened. Mum knocked on my door. ‘What do you want?’ I grunted. ‘I’ve run you a bath, and you’re getting in it. You’re revolting,’ she called from outside. I saw myself in the mirror, red-faced, bedraggled and be-styeed, with one hand down my pyjama bottoms, and I knew she wasn’t wrong. I’m actually feeling way more positive now that I’m clean. posted by EditingEmma 19.41 Called Steph to tell her about my resolutions. She said, ‘I’m totally on-board. But I think you might need a new strategy.’ ‘Why?’ ‘How will you meet anyone new, from people that you already know?’ ‘Aha! But see, I’ve been thinking about this. How many of your Facebook friends are you actually friends with?’ ‘Oh God. I don’t know. Err… I’m going to say about 15 per cent.’ ‘Exactly!!’ ‘So what? I still know what they all look like.’ ‘It’s not just about looks, Steph.’ ‘Disagree.’ ‘But I didn’t even like Leon, in that way, for the first two months of knowing him. I think we could already KNOW our soulmates, just not know that they’re our soulmates yet.’ ‘So you’re saying… Willie Thomas might have hidden depths?’ (Willie Thomas is a boy in our art class who looms way too close to girls to try and look down their tops. He also has really bad breath.) ‘Well, maybe not Willie.’ Sunday, 7 September (#ulink_db60f38f-b55a-5310-aa03-68332fc38aff) posted by EditingEmma 12.46 Staring into the cold, harsh, glaring light of the computer screen, which may be the guiding light leading me towards my new life… Beginning the stalk. Hmm… Going through my ‘friends’, looking for boys I don’t normally speak to. posted by EditingEmma 14.05 As it turns out, I’ve actually only added people I do normally speak to. Or Leon’s friends. And I know that I definitely don’t want to date any of them. Well, plan over. posted by EditingEmma 16.33 Mum has been ranting on about how ‘tired’ she is and how her ‘glands are up’. As is the case most of the time. She thinks she has a ‘mild case of ME’. I’m not going to tell her otherwise, though; her hypochondria makes her more lenient when it comes to letting me stay off school. I thought I’d better lay the groundwork now, in case my stye doesn’t disappear by Thursday, so I shuffled into Mum’s room with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. ‘Mum,’ I coughed, ‘I think I caught your ME. I think you should consider keeping me off college next week.’ ‘You can’t catch ME,’ she says with a dismissive wave of her hand, as if to say, You don’t understand what I’m going through. She is so annoying. posted by EditingEmma 20.42 Steph called: ‘Did you start on your resolutions yet?’ ‘Yes, but you were right. Everyone I’m “friends” with I already know sort-of well enough in real life to know I wouldn’t want to date them.’ ‘Ah.’ ‘My plan was fatally flawed.’ She munched away on something down the end of the phone. ‘What about the people you haven’t added? No offence but you’ve only got about three hundred friends.’ ‘…I’ll try again tomorrow.’ Monday, 8 September (#ulink_39f3ff26-4328-55ea-bab8-4ed9df992b51) posted by EditingEmma 12.22 Back to the drawing screen. I’m discovering people I never even knew existed… who are apparently in our year at school… (Who is Umar Khan? Or Brian Fielding?) And there are lots of people I’ve seen around but never had ANY interaction with. . . . Am I hugely anti-social? Let’s not dwell too much on that. posted by EditingEmma 15.59 I have found a couple of possibilities… Laurence Myer and David Hudson. An elusive pair of technology nerds. You don’t see them often, but when you do it’s usually together and it’s ALWAYS on a computer. I overheard a conversation between them once and it was about the relative differences between android and iOS operating systems. No idea what that actually means, but I sense that they’re the kind of guys who will grow up to make millions inventing something to do with algorithms that no one else understands. Adding them both. I’m actually kind of nervous. What if they don’t accept? posted by EditingEmma 16.04 I needn’t have worried. Four minutes ago, Laurence Myer accepted my request, and three minutes ago, David Hudson accepted. Evidence: Technology nerds get back to you quickly. Probably because they are always attached to their phones and/or their laptops. I couldn’t choose between them, so I’m going with Laurence Myer because he accepted first. As solid a reason as any. After going through his pictures for a while, I am astounded by the fact that I’ve never really noticed Laurence. He is, actually, quite attractive. My love for Leon has made me blind to everyone else around me. I save the most normal-looking picture of Laurence I can find for my case study, cropping out everyone else around him and enlarging his head. posted by EditingEmma 21.00 I was feeling really pleased with myself until I spoke to Steph: ‘Steph, I’ve done it. I’ve set off on an important journey.’ ‘Where are you going?’ ‘To a new beginning.’ ‘You’re beginning a journey towards a new beginning?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘So you spoke to Laurence Myer?’ ‘Oh, no. I added him though. We’ve achieved virtual friendship.’ ‘Woah! Slow down, Emma!!’ ‘Oh. Really?’ ‘NO. Talk to him!!!’ ‘. . . I feel like that might be a step too far, for tonight.’ ‘Yes, you’re right, you might end up achieving virtual pregnancy.’ ‘. . . Fine.’ Maybe he won’t be online. Of course he’s online. OK, here goes… I’m going in for the kill. posted by EditingEmma 21.46 Our conversation, which I have recorded (with commentary): Emma: hey Laurence: hi Emma: how are you? Laurence: im good There is a long pause. Laurence: you? Emma: im good thank you, what are you up to? Laurence: just listening to some music Emma: what you listening to? Laurence: nickelback Emma: ah cool, I haven’t listened to them in ages… Because the only reason I’ve ever listened to them is that my dad used to play them, and my ears would bleed liquid mediocrity. How old is this boy, sixteen or fifty-six? Laurence: do you have any of their stuff? I would download it but I have no money and I’m morally opposed to piracy and I hate the adverts on Spotify That was way too much information. I suppose some of Dad’s beige songs might still be cluttering up this ancient laptop. Emma: probably somewhere Laurence: could you send me anything? Emma: ermmm, hang on… I’m in the middle of feeling a bit judgemental and superior, when something awful happens… Just as I’m about to send him a song Mum screams something about a missing eye-shadow, which I know is at the bottom of my handbag. I turn from the screen and call back that I have no idea where it is. I turn back and click ‘paste’ but instead of pasting ‘How You Remind Me’ into the conversation, I end up pasting the last thing I copied. The enlarged picture of his head. I sit for a second in utter disbelief. ‘No. No. No. No. No. No. NO NO NO!!! Cancel! CANCEL!!!’ Laurence: whats that? Emma: that… that is a picture of you Laurence: ok Think of an excuse!! Think of an excuse!! Oh God… there IS no excuse! What excuse could I POSSIBLY have?! Emma: I was just zooming in to see your teeth, I noticed before you have very nice teeth There is a long pause. In fact, that’s sort of why I added you, I was wondering if I could have the name of your dentist Laurence: er, I don’t know her name Emma: oh well. Ok Laurence: ok Oh my God, just STOP TALKING. Emma: got to dash Got to dash? Laurence: ok. Bye Emma: byeeeee ? Yes, the smiley face at the end makes everything better. Much less scary. Well, after that I may have ruled out Laurence Myer as a potential case study. URGH. Now I feel worse than I did before. Just when I thought my self-confidence couldn’t sink any lower, I fail to get a date with a Nickelback fan. posted by EditingEmma 22.04 Oh God. If I can’t even speak normally online, what hope do I have in real life?! All physical awkwardness (like how long you’re supposed to make eye contact without coming off as a psychopath) has been removed AND you get as much time as you need to think of a witty response. Even if you wait like ten minutes or something you can just pretend you were ‘getting a cup of tea’ and not frantically trying to sound clever. And it’s not even like I was that anxious. That idiotic interaction is me at my most relaxed and most likely to come off as a real person. No wonder Leon isn’t speaking to me. I wouldn’t speak to me either. Going to bed. At ten. What is my life? posted by EditingEmma 22.38 I can’t even sleep. Mum is snoring in the next room. Usually, I would make a loud noise to wake her up then pretend it was her ‘night terrors’ but I can’t be bothered. I don’t even have the energy to cry any more. I’m exhausted, all the time. I never stop thinking about Leon. He never stops being there. One time I made myself stop thinking about him for a week or so. That was exhausting in itself. And then I fell asleep from the exertion and just dreamed about him all night anyway. Tuesday, 9 September (#ulink_1f71dec9-0a5e-535c-90d0-113200fc4314) posted by EditingEmma 18.52 Today I got to work on resolution 1B (stop isolating myself) and walked round to Faith’s. I was quite afraid of leaving the house and lingered in the corridor for twelve minutes until Mum pushed me outside and locked the door. I’d forgotten what our street looked like. My irises felt quite assaulted by the amount of natural brightness, and I was feeling exceptionally beaten down by the time I rang the doorbell. Faith’s mum answered, dressed in an apron that said, ‘My Husband Wears The Pants. I Just Tell Him Which Ones To Wear’. I couldn’t help but think that my mum would have doused it in petrol and thrown it, with its frills and questionable presentation of gender roles, on a bonfire. ‘Hi, Emma,’ she said, tentatively, as if I might start crying at any moment. (Did she see the status, too?) ‘Hi, Lillian.’ ‘Faith’s upstairs, painting.’ She smiled. When I came into her room, Faith’s blonde curls were covered in flecks of purple and red. She was wearing a long, blue shirt, also caked in paint, and she was, very earnestly, decorating her wall with a giant flower. ‘Hello, Georgia O’Keeffe,’ I said. For a moment she said nothing, and then, ‘Thank you, Emma.’ ‘Thank you for what?’ ‘Georgia O’Keeffe painted flowers – though only about 10 per cent of her work was actually flowers, you know – and was plagued by accusations that they were vaginas. She insisted time and time again that they weren’t. I try to paint an expression of my sexuality; a giant, purple and red flower-vagina, in the middle of my wall, and my mother comes in and says, “What a pretty flower, Faith.”’ It looks like I’m not the only one who’s been too isolated this summer. ‘I’m not sure “pretty” is the word I’d use. It’s a bit of a monster,’ I remarked. She put down her brush, then, and looked at me. I looked at her. We both looked at the flower and burst out laughing. Reasons That Faith is One of the Best Humans I Know I spent the entire afternoon lying on Faith’s bed looking at Elle and Marie Claire galleries on her computer whilst she painted. I told her about my plan and she said, ‘Are you sure you’re ready to date? You’ve cried three times since you got here.’ See. Solid advice, reliably ignored. posted by EditingEmma 20.01 A Further Reminder of My Sadness Mum came in and threw my mail at me. ‘It’s time to open it. I’ve had enough of you cluttering up my house.’ ‘You shouldn’t have had a child, then,’ I muttered as she walked away. It was my new A level timetable, which I’ve been avoiding since it arrived three weeks ago. I’m taking Art & Design, English, French, Maths, Biology. Yes, that is five instead of four, and no, I’m not one of those super-intelligent and slightly unbalanced students who really enjoy learning and go to after-school clubs. CONFESSION: I only really took Biology because Leon was taking it. WHO AM I????? Even writing it down makes me feel dirty. I rationalised that otherwise we wouldn’t have had any of the same subjects (he’s taking History, Politics, German and Biology). I didn’t want to give up anything I wanted to do, so I just… took an extra one. Mum was all, ‘Are you sure that’s not too many, Emma?’ ‘Are you sure you actually want to take Biology, Emma?’ ‘Since when did you like touching dead animals, Emma?’ And I was all, ‘It’s not too many, Mum.’ ‘I can handle it, Mum.’ ‘Of course I want to take Biology. Why else would I be doing it, Mum?’ EVIDENCE: Heed my warning. DO NOT make life decisions that will actually affect your future based around someone you like. Even if you think you may ‘love’ them. It is not worth it. You will end up like me. I am doing a whole extra AS level because I am an idiot. posted by EditingEmma 22.25 I was just contemplating which series to start from the beginning yet again, when… Laurence: hi .…What’s this?! Emma: hey Has he hit his head? Does he not remember that I am a strange stalker? Emma: you ok? Laurence: yeah you? Emma: I’m good thanks Laurence: I got the name of my dentist off my mum…;) Is he being nice about yesterday? Emma: haha… thanks Laurence: now you can have teeth as nice as mine Emma: I’m not sure they’ll ever measure up Laurence: haha. Do you want it? Or does he really think I want his dentist’s number? Emma: er sure ta Laurence: you’ll have to get it off me in person Oh. I see. Emma: I see Laurence: do you want to go to the cinema tomorrow? Emma: sure Laurence: ok, meet me there at 7, I’ll get the tickets Emma: cool see you then Laurence: see you tomorrow And the investigations are back on track!! Interesting. Very interesting. I’m quite taken aback. Evidence: Technology nerds don’t scare easily. So, I have a date tomorrow… I hope he doesn’t mind that I’m in love with someone else. Or that he’s a case study. Going to sleep now. I feel marginally better about life. (Marginally.) Wednesday, 10 September (#ulink_7eaa8820-312c-591f-9b22-10393d2d0d08) posted by EditingEmma 10.10 Up bright and early. I’m not really nervous. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Before seeing Leon, I used to shake like a leaf and feel sick. Even though I saw him a lot. I miss him. I wonder how often he sees Anna? I mean Apple? posted by EditingEmma 11.37 I was looking through pictures of Leon on my phone when I realised something that I’ve never noticed before… he has quite a small head. And I have quite a large one. What was I thinking?? Trying to make a relationship work with someone who has such a smaller head than me??? I pointed this out to Mum. She replied, ‘Yes, that’s probably why it didn’t work out. He was afraid of your big, beefy skull.’ Must snap out of this. Focus on tonight. I’m Louis Theroux, I’m Louis Theroux. posted by EditingEmma 18.07 I can’t seem to motivate myself to put on make-up. Sometimes I feel like there’s nothing fun about it any more, it’s just some cruel necessity… and I’m only sixteen. What am I going to feel like when I’m twenty-six? Thirty-six? Mum came in and stared at me staring at the mirror. ‘What are you doing?’ ‘Feeling resentful that half the population don’t feel pressured to waste time and energy painting their faces every day.’ ‘You could stop doing it.’ ‘Then I’d feel bad about myself because I’d look worse than everyone else. It will only work if every single woman on the planet puts down their eyeliner and says, “no, this is what I look like, and this is how I am.”’ ‘Someone’s got to start the revolution.’ ‘Will you join me?’ ‘No.’ posted by EditingEmma 18.41 I suppose, if there is one small consolation to the injustice of dreary, habitual make-up, it’s that I can cover up my stye. OK… I’m off on my ‘date’ now. Maybe it will actually be magical and we’ll have lots of sex and terrifying babies that look like Chad Kroeger. posted by EditingEmma 22:14 My ‘Date’: A Play By Play Magical is definitely not the word I would use to describe tonight. 7 PM: I arrive at the cinema and Laurence is already waiting there, swaying awkwardly from side to side with his hands in his pockets. He’s wearing baggy jeans and a baggy t-shirt with some sort of cartoon dog on it. It’s a look, I guess. I walk over to him. ‘Hi!’ I say. ‘Hi.’ Silence. ‘So, you got the tickets OK?’ He nods. ‘How much do I owe you?’ He shakes his head. ‘Oh, well, I’ll buy you some popcorn or something.’ He shrugs. 7.20 PM: We are probably in the seats by now. Conversation has been minimal so far. Minimal to the point of… well, nonexistent. I tried a few topics and got mainly head twitches and grunts in response. 7.30 PM: Just before the movie starts. ‘Do you want a Minstrel?’ Laurence asks. Yes!! We have conversation lift off! I think. 8.30 PM: No, we didn’t. I’m ashamed to think of my enthusiastic hour-ago self. I always thought cinema dates were just a bit of an excuse to sit in the dark and giggle at things. It seems Laurence actually really wants to see the movie. 9.20 PM: The film is over. We stand awkwardly at the doors of the cinema. So far the sum total of Laurence’s conversation is still, ‘Do you want a Minstrel?’ ‘So, you enjoyed the film then?’ I ask. He nods. ‘OK, well, bye, then…’ ‘Oh, bye.’ I give him an awkward hug. And then he walks away. Seriously?! Is that… it?! Can that count as a date? Or even as an interaction? I say more to the cashier at Tesco when I’m buying some gum. Evidence: Technology nerds are more charming over the internet. posted by EditingEmma 22.28 I just got a message from Laurence: ‘Lol that film wasn’t as good as I thought it was gonna be. Disappointed. Did you enjoy it?x’ Evidence: And over their phones. What? Just… what?! I can’t even be bothered to reply. That whole evening was such a flop. Why does anyone bother stepping outside the front door? The odds that you’ll have a better time doing anything on the outside than you will sitting watching TV seem pretty slim to me. posted by EditingEmma 23.09 Until now I’d somehow successfully blocked that it was the night-before-the-first-day-of-sixth-form from my mind. It must have been all that scintillating conversation. Just think, before all this I was actually looking forward to starting sixth form. PAH. Emma Nash @Em_Nasher Whyyyyyyyyyyyy posted by EditingEmma 23.50 Imagining What Will Happen When Leon Sees Me Tomorrow I’m listening to very intense music to set the scene. I walk into school, in my new black skater skirt and fitted shirt (that I bought from & Other Stories), finally liberated from the lumpy school jumper I’ve been stuck wearing for five years. My stye is barely noticeable. Our eyes catch… We keep making eye contact and he can’t pretend to focus on the conversation he’s having any longer. He strides over to me and puts his hand behind my neck and his other hand on my face and just kisses me… And everyone is watching. Thursday, 11 September (#ulink_1ffab826-0176-509c-a4d9-c4279f700d01) posted by EditingEmma 08.22 What Actually Happened When Leon Saw Me Our eyes catch… He looks slightly awkward for a moment, but then keeps going with the conversation he’s having. Neither of us go over to say hello. Or really acknowledge each other at all. posted by EditingEmma 08.33 Sitting next to Steph in registration, comparing timetables. Gracie is going on and on about ‘split ends’ and keeps shoving strands of red hair in my face. It feels strange to be interacting with so many people at once. I feel like a rabbit caught in headlights, and everything feels very loud and terrifying. But it’s nice… I think. I can’t believe I’m saying this but it almost makes me feel relieved to be back at school. Discussed the Leon meeting with Steph: ‘I was so sure that the first time he saw me, in person, he wouldn’t be able to ignore me. But nope. He did. Are we absolutely, positively, one hundred per cent certain that I didn’t make the whole thing up?’ ‘No. He definitely exists. I’ve seen him many times.’ ‘I mean… the asking out thing. Maybe he never asked me out at all. Maybe he said, “Emma, will you HANG out with me?” And then my longing desire caused me to hear whatever I wanted to hear, and I took it to mean GO out with me, and then he was too awkward to say anything.’ ‘I don’t think so.’ ‘Sometimes my granddad does it. Sometimes because he loves trifle, he’ll say that my mum said we were having trifle, which she would never say in a million years, because she hates trifle. But he genuinely thinks it. He genuinely thinks she said we were having trifle, then gets all upset when she brings out yoghurt and fruit. What if that’s me?? What if I’ve inherited it??’ ‘I think your granddad is eighty-nine, so you’re probably not there yet. And I don’t think he asked you to hang out because you were already hanging out. That makes no sense.’ ‘What if he said… “Emma, will you eat sprouts with me?” Or “Will you joust with me?”’ ‘Not impossible, but highly improbable.’ Emma Nash @Em_Nasher Glad to be back at school for 5 seconds. Now chanting our stupid school motto in Latin. I take it all back. Hoc sugit. posted by EditingEmma 11.22 The End of a Very Eventful Break Coming to you nearly live from the Maths & Sciences Block girls’ toilets. 11.00 AM: I am standing around with Steph, Faith and Gracie in the tuck shop, sweating profusely because Leon is in the room. Gracie is WAY too excited about her brother’s party on Saturday. ‘Andy says he’s got loads of good drinking games for us to play,’ she says smugly. ‘You know it won’t be Drinking Articulate, don’t you?’ I point out. ‘Yes, of course,’ she snaps, then adds, ‘Though I don’t see why that would be such a bad idea.’ ‘You could teach everyone all about how to raise their WPM,’ I say. (Words per minute.) She beams and my sarcasm goes straight over her head. 11.05 AM: Laurence Myer ENTERS THE TUCK SHOP. Moving away from the safe, secluded environment of the Tech Lab, he wanders in looking a bit dazed, head spinning, blinking at the crowds… My heart sinks. I know I’m going to have to admit what I did last night. Steph sees and stares at him for a second. Then she says, ‘I know what you did last night.’ Faith and Gracie look up from their hot dogs. ‘… What did you do last night?’ asks Faith. ‘I… I…’ ‘She went on a date with Laurence Myer.’ ‘Thanks, Steph.’ ‘That’s… interesting,’ says Faith. ‘I didn’t know you spoke to Laurence Myer.’ ‘I didn’t. I mean… I still haven’t.’ 11.10 AM: He keeps looking over at us. And he’s all on his own, looking lost. And just as I think I’d better shuffle over for a bit of painfully awkward silence… Leon beats me to it. Leon. With his dark, wavy hair and eyes like chocolate buttons. The four of us stare in amazement. ‘This is brilliant,’ says Steph, opening up her crisps and settling in for the show. ‘Stop staring!’ I order, but then give up and stare. Laurence looks inordinately grateful to have someone to talk to. Leon is just chatting away, lighting up the room with his casual charm and beautiful laugh, when Laurence says something and they both look over here. Gracie practically chokes on her hot dog. Steph throws her crisps up in the air. I duck. Faith is the only person who remains even slightly within the realm of a normal person, and looks indifferently out of the window. ‘Emma… Emma…you know, they can still see you,’ whispers Faith. So I stand up pretending I’ve dropped some sort of invisible object on the floor… Then Laurence leaves, presumably to return to his inner sanctum, and Leon goes back to sit with his mates. From then on, he keeps looking over in our direction with a very serious face. 11.15 AM: The crowds are all cramming through the door to leave and, out of nowhere, Laurence pops up. (He must have been hiding…) He smiles at me and brandishes a bag of Minstrels. ‘Hi, Laurence.’ More silent smiling and Minstrel offering. ‘Err… thanks.’ ANALYSIS OF EVENTFUL BREAK 1. Is Laurence Myer going to keep bringing me Minstrels at break but say nothing, and think this qualifies as a relationship? 2. What did Laurence say to Leon?! Does Leon know about my ‘date’?? 3. Does he care? 4. Even if he does care, should I care that he cares? posted by EditingEmma 11.45 In Maths nomming on delicious Minstrels. OK, so conversation might not be stimulating, but I sure would be well fed… As I was writing this, Mr Crispin walked past and complimented me on my concentration (on my phone, under my desk). Well, actually what he said was, ‘Emma’s hungry for the hidden values!’ posted by EditingEmma 12.01 Why I Stopped Reading Frankenstein ‘Did everyone read Frankenstein over summer?’ Ms Parker asks, at the beginning of English. There is a dreary murmur in confirmation. ‘Did you really, Emma?’ Ms Parker smiles at me. ‘I did,’ I say. Not exactly a lie… I started it, but I never finished. For about a week afterwards, I had dreams that I was the monster and parts of me kept falling off. In one of them I was on a beach, and Leon was picking up the bits of me, like my foot or my nose, and lobbing them into the sea. And I was crying and crying for him to stop and he wouldn’t. Then I went to Gracie’s house, and she asked me to leave because I was just ‘too ugly to look at’. posted by EditingEmma 12.33 A screenshot of mine and Steph’s WhatsApping in English: Did you know that Laurence talked to Leon? 12.19 No 12.19 Who knew?? 12.19 You know, just because you’d never talked to Laurence before, it doesn’t mean that no one else ever did 12.20 I sense that I’m annoying you… 12.20 . . . But I’m carrying on. Do you think Leon will be in our Biology class? 12.24 I’m not psychic 12.25 I’m glad we’re together, anyway 12.25 Me too 12.26 Are you actually? 12.26 Not if you keep talking about Leon 12.26 Point taken. Sorry, I’m really nervous 12.26 If he’s there it will be awkward. But at least Crazy Holly will be there, too 12.27 How does that help? 12.27 It’s impossible to feel awkward around Crazy Holly 12.28 True 12.28 posted by EditingEmma 13:55 Sitting in the loos crying Really, given the amount of time I’ve spent processing Anna and Leon’s relationship status, you’d think I’d have been more prepared for their actual relationship. But I wasn’t. Here’s what happened: I went and collected my stingy portion of food. Considering how much money I (my mum) pays for these lunches, you’d think they’d give us more than one sausage and three bits of broccoli. Yes, they actually count the broccoli. And if you get an abnormally large bit then you only get two. I once said, ‘That’s broccoli discrimination. You’ve made him feel fat,’ and the dinner lady just stared at me. But I digress. So I sat down at the table with my tiny lunch and Gracie kept looking at me very uncomfortably, like the sight of me was giving her stomach cramps. Steph gave me half her sausage. I should have known something was up then because Steph would usually fight you to the death for half a sausage. I was about to bite into it, when I saw Leon across the room. Talking to Anna. Then he put his arm around her. The sausage sort of hung in the air, then whacked me in the face. I stared open-mouthed. Suddenly, it was all too much for me and I got up to leave. And now I’m in the loos. Steph came to find me. ‘Not many people can make me feel sad with gravy on their face but you pull it off,’ she said. I laughed but it quickly turned back to crying. ‘I knew they were together but, seeing them…’ ‘I know,’ Steph said. ‘And now we’ve got Biology. And he might be there.’ ‘I know.’ ‘Is it really obvious I’ve been crying?’ ‘Errr…’ Steph got out her compact mirror. I look like I’ve been boiled. posted by EditingEmma 20.37 The Rest of My First Day of Sixth Form Biology I tried to hide that I’d been crying but I still arrived looking like a puffy red frog. I felt so nervous about the possibility of Leon being there that I was physically quivering. Within two seconds, I’d scanned the room with my ultra-fast Leon radar, sadly the most effective part of my brain, and assessed that he wasn’t in the room. I actually felt disappointed. (What’s wrong with me?) My nervous energy plummeted back into regular old glumness. I had a feeling Biology would not make me feel better. Long and pointy Dr Penzik had a creepy smile on his long and pointy face. Which meant that we were probably massacring some sort of small animal for an experiment. And then, ah yes… I spotted them. The pile of organs. Lovely. (This is my punishment for taking a subject because someone I fancied was in the class. And he’s not even in it.) Dr Penzik handed round the sheep hearts looking a little too pleased. I started typing a post, when he said, ‘Oh, no you don’t. Emma, move up here.’ He pointed to the front of the class. ‘Erm. Why, may I ask, Dr Penzik? I only got here five minutes ago so I haven’t been talking yet.’ ‘I can see you texting,’ he barked. ‘I’m not texting, I’m—’ ‘Look, let’s just avoid any trouble and move you away from Steph. Put your phone away and find a new partner.’ I refrained from pointing out the obvious flaws in his logic. Suppose I was ‘texting’ Steph, why would separating us stop that? The whole point of ‘texting’ is that you can ‘text’ from across the room. Anyway, I looked around, scanning for a new partner. Crazy Holly was beckoning. Crazy Holly is fun and everything, but did I really want to see what she would do to a sheep heart? No, was the answer to that. Five minutes later, I already had sheep blood on my nose. ‘Holly, what are we even meant to be doing?’ I asked, glancing at the abandoned sheet lying next to us. She shrugged and kept hacking. I stared fixedly at the mangled mess we had created. It was like looking down at my own heart. When I Arrived Home The door was double-locked, which was just what I needed. (Mum calls it the Emma Lock, there just in case I plan on having any ‘wild parties’ when she goes away. She clearly thinks I have more friends than I do.) I banged on the door. It opened a fraction and Mum’s nose poked out. ‘Oh… I wasn’t expecting you home yet… awkward.’ Then she turned her head and called out, ‘Gerald, you’ll have to leave!’ She let me in and ran into the kitchen. I heard, ‘Gerald, put some clothes on!!’ When I walked in there was no one else in there. Except Mum, pissing herself laughing in a corner. And now I’m in my room, contemplating the day’s events. What did Laurence say to Leon?!?! posted by EditingEmma 22.09 I tried so hard not to but I’m stalking Apple again. Leon linked her to a scene from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. He really loves that film. He’s probably going to make her watch it five million times whilst force-feeding her jam tarts. I really wish I was her. One day of sixth form felt like a lifetime. I’m going to bed now. Hopefully I won’t wake up. Friday, 12 September (#ulink_22e32214-560e-572d-a9c1-092d69123e97) posted by EditingEmma 07.30 Woke up. Darn. posted by EditingEmma 13.38 Strange Things That Have Happened Today (And it’s only lunchtime. And only Day 2 of Sixth Form.) When I came downstairs to breakfast, Mum appeared to be pretending to surf. She said, ‘It’s my t’ai chi.’ I said, ‘Of course.’ Steph wants to go to Mum’s salsa class. This is pretty much how the conversation went: ‘How’s your mum?’ Steph asked. ‘Keeping herself busy with a range of different hobbies.’ ‘Ooh, like what?’ ‘Surfing in the living room.’ ‘Is she still seeing the stripper?’ ‘You never get tired of asking that, do you?’ ‘No.’ ‘I’m not sure. But I do know that she’s been going to salsa, because she keeps stealing Bear to dance with.’ ‘Salsa?’ ‘Yes, I have since discovered where my dancing incapability comes from.’ ‘Is she having lessons? Can we go with her?’ ‘You want to go to salsa? With my mum?’ After an hour of thinking that she was joking, it turns out she does actually want to go to salsa. With my mum. Curiouser and curiouser… The Awkward Toilet Encounter I was washing my hands when Apple came out of the cubicle next door. And she smiled at me. Because she’s a really nice person. I think I managed to smile back relatively normally (like I haven’t spent days scrutinising every single part of her face and wondering things like whether she masturbates a lot or how often she washes her bras). But I ruined it by staring at her lips for a little too long. I couldn’t help thinking those lips have been on Leon’s lips. How recently? If I grabbed her and kissed her, would it be sort of like kissing Leon? When I came out of the loos, Leon was waiting outside. My whole body flooded with adrenaline which, for some unknown reason, prompted me to speak to him. ‘Lurking in the shadows outside girls’ loos is generally considered a bit creepy,’ I said jokily. ‘I’m waiting for Anna,’ he said, without an expression. Maybe it’s contagious. She has some weird disease where all her facial muscles become like hanging bits of flab and she’s given it to him. ‘OK…’ I said, and started to walk away. ‘I didn’t know you were friends with Laurence,’ he called after me, stonily. ‘I didn’t know you were friends with Laurence.’ ‘I used to sit with him in Maths.’ ‘Oh. Did he help you?’ ‘Oh, piss off, Emma.’ He said it with such force, and I was so taken aback that I felt like I’d been shoved backwards into the wall. The only person who has ever told me to ‘piss off’ in such an ugly way is my mother. He stared at me all defiant and scowly, and I stood there looking back at him like a jellyfish with my mouth open. Then Apple came out of the loo and we all continued to stand there for a bit. She looked at us both and, I swear, almost managed an expression (one of confused awkwardness). Then I quickly moved away. posted by EditingEmma 15.32 Moping in Maths I was hiding my phone under the desk but then I remembered it’s Mr Crispin… Ah Maths. My free blogging pass. So I told Steph all about what happened and she gave me a Chewit. After I ate it, I threw the wrapper away and she said, ‘What? You’re not going to save it and roll it up in a ball with my hair and spit and keep it under your bed? I’m offended.’ ‘I never kept his hair. Or spit.’ ‘No, just his bloody plaster. Anyway, at least you’ve got Gracie’s brother’s party to look forward to tomorrow…’ I grunted. Then Mr Crispin asked me a question about ‘cumulative frequency’ and I just whimpered. ‘Is that all you do now? Whimper and grunt?’ asked Steph. I grunted in response. She grunted back. ‘It was like… he hated me.’ Steph bobbed her head in sympathy. ‘I’ve run out of Chewits.’ ‘It’s OK. I’m too miserable to eat.’ ‘Or maybe you’re too full because you ate the whole pack.’ ‘Maybe.’ ‘Do you think we’d still be friends if we were guys?’ asked Steph. ‘No, you’d punch me.’ There was silence as we both visualised it. ‘Yeah, I probably would.’ posted by EditingEmma 15.50 Crazy Holly asked to plait my hair (she just loves to plait hair). I must be feeling pretty low because a) I let her and b) I enjoyed it. posted by EditingEmma 17.16 At Home ‘Mum…?’ I say carefully. ‘What? What is it now?’ she spits. How nice. ‘Are you still dating the stripper? I mean, again?’ ‘Yes, I am dating Olly again and please call him Olly.’ ‘How’s it going?’ ‘Yesterday it was great. Today not so much. Ask me again tomorrow.’ ‘OK.’ Silence. ‘It can’t be any worse than that guy who asked you what older birds had to offer over younger ones.’ ‘No, it can’t. Thanks for reminding me.’ ‘Any time.’ Silence. ‘So, Mum, what do older birds have to offer over younger ones?’ ‘Stop it.’ Evidence: When using the internet to meet people, one must learn to ignore half the stupid crap people feel more free to say than they would to your face. ‘Oh, also, can we come to salsa with you tonight?’ She laughs. ‘No, I actually mean it.’ posted by EditingEmma 19.57 At salsa. It’s the break and Steph and Mum are queuing for the loos. I’m trying to at least pretend like I’m having fun, because I’ve been so crap over the past couple of months and Steph and Mum seem to be having a freakishly good time. But I will never be doing this again. Ever. Why You Should Never, Ever Go to Salsa with Your Mum: Oh joy. The break is almost over and it’s my turn to dance with the smelly man again. Add another reason to the list: Back home now, thank God, but after class me, Mum and Steph sat down. ‘Are you looking forward to Gracie’s brother’s party?’ Mum asked. ‘I’m looking forward to having her stop talking about it,’ I replied. ‘OK, so don’t look now,’ Mum muttered, ‘but my ex-boyfriend was in the class.’ I thought back through the less than desirable bunch of men we had just danced with. ‘Which one?’ ‘The dark-haired, dark-skinned one.’ ‘The wiggly one?’ ‘Yes, him.’ ‘Oh, God, Mum… Why?’ ‘What?! He’s a good-looking man.’ ‘If you can see past the creepiness.’ ‘Well, for me it was more seeing past the good looks.’ ‘Did you meet him here?’ Steph asked. ‘Yes,’ Mum sighs, ‘this was a long time ago. Before I’d even tried internet dating or anything like that.’ Evidence: Most people use the internet merely to repeat the mistakes they make in the real world. Saturday, 13 September (#ulink_8a01e378-70cd-5c7f-9b8b-31be337756fa) posted by EditingEmma 11.01 The Day of ‘The Big Party’ Gracie has already rung twice asking me about what to do with her hair. My answer both times was, ‘I don’t know’ i.e. ‘I don’t care, you have a mind of your own.’ posted by EditingEmma 12.04 ‘What about my flower clip?’ (What flower clip?) ‘Yes, definitely.’ It’s going to be a long day… posted by EditingEmma 17.29 At Gracie’s House Getting ready. It’s just me, Steph and Gracie. Faith said she couldn’t come because she ‘didn’t want to blow off her family friends’. (I definitely think there is a line between being nice, and too nice.) We are all crammed into one mirror. Gracie keeps elbowing me in the face. She’s so eager for tonight. ‘And Andy’s friend Jonno is so good-looking…’ ‘Is he the one with the really small head?’ I say. Gracie’s lips tighten and she goes all pink. ‘No, I don’t think so.’ ‘I think he is.’ ‘I don’t know who you mean, but it’s not him.’ ‘Yeah, yeah! It is!’ says Steph, laughing. Gracie is incredibly pink by now. ‘None of my brother’s friends have a small head.’ ‘None of them? Does he have some sort of head-size screening process?’ ‘They’re all really attractive.’ ‘So now you can’t be attractive unless you have a large head?’ says Steph. Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/chloe-seager/editing-emma-online-you-can-choose-who-you-want-to-be-if-only/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.