I find myself actually missing the days when all I had to worry about was a bit of cattiness from the twins. That was a picnic with fairy cakes and ice cream compared with Aubrey going on and on about Finn. Any chance she gets during the day she is talking about him, dreaming about what it will be like to talk to him, pondering about where he comes from and what he is into. She even gets hold of a magazine at break and consults it as though it is an Oracle of Luuurve. ‘It says here,’ she says, flicking through Teen Girl, ‘that you have to play it cool if you want to get the guy of your dreams. Maybe that’s where I am going wrong?’ She looks up at me, her forehead crinkling. ‘Can’t see how that’s going to work,’ I mutter. ‘He hasn’t noticed you when you wave at him, so how is he going to notice you if you play it cool? Why don’t you just go up and say hi and get it over with?’ ‘But that’s the whole point,’ says Aubrey. ‘If he hasn’t noticed me when I am being totally obvious, then I have to use “reverse psychology”,’ she says with emphasis, stabbing her finger at the page.
