Kissing him the second time was just plain silly. And the times after that were sheer Oh-my-God-what-is-wrong-with-you-ness. It was obvious it wasn’t going to last but I never thought it would end with him calling me fugly and untrustworthy and just about the most evil, calculating person in the world. Like I would ever blog about what we were doing. Like I was proud of what we were doing. I was meant to be working on a stupid seascape in Art because Mrs Spiers had said that if I didn’t she’d fail me for that module. It really was the least of my problems but I was just in the right mood to paint a storm-tossed ocean with lots of greys and blacks and purples. I even added a little sailboat getting pulled under with a teeny-tiny little man onboard, and if he hadn’t been so teeny-tiny then I’d have given him an Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirt and a faux-hawk because the teeny-tiny man was Michael Lee and the little sailboat was his miserable life, which was going to be nothing but a source of frustration and disappointment to him once he wasn’t the most popular boy in school any more and was forced to join the real world.
