Love-Struck by Rachael Wing Page A

look a bit dead with the grey mask on. “– and I am going to pick you out something to wear!”
    Hmm.
    â€œErm…”
    â€œIt’s OK!” Mum exclaimed. “I’ll fix it, you’ll see! You’ll look hip!”
    Oh dear. I was a little bit worried, but she practically ushered me into the bathroom and shut the door on my stuttering face. So I just gave up, got in the bath and listened to my iPod.
    You make me feel seasick
    Because you’re so unpredictable
    One day you’re on my side
    But the next you’ve swam out with the first tide
    With all of my pride and confidence.
    I just can’t keep up the pretence
    That you and me are meant to be
    Because:
    You’re just the thorn
    In my side.
    I got out of the bath feeling good, and took my iPod back to my room, which was tidy (wahey!) with some clothes on my bed.
    I walked up and found my new tight jeans, all washed and ironed so they would make my bum look good (RESULT!) and a T-shirt.
    It was black, with frayed short sleeves and front ripped diagonally across the top of the chest. It was really hot. I picked it up, but something was weird on the back. I turned it over and saw that the back was sliced horizontally four times, so that it would hang off my back a bit.
    It was really, really, really hot.
    I dried my hair double-time, curled it and then pulled on my jeans. I looked at the top on my bed. Where on earth had Mum got it from?! I made a mental note to tell her that she was my favourite mummy and that I would love her for ever for this amazing act of … amazingness! I pulled it over my head and admired myself in the mirror. Oh my God, I looked awesome! I was going to kill at the gig.
    I was really tempted to take a picture and send it to Jonah, but Wes rang.
    â€œHey babe, guess what? I’m wearing the best shirt ever!” I exclaimed, still admiring myself in the mirror. “It’s soo awesome!”
    â€œErm, good for you…?” he replied. Huh, boys! They don’t get excited like girls do. I’d have to ring Jessi later and tell her, she’d get excited. “Look, I was ringing because we’ve got a slight situation with The Plan.”
    The Plan was that Wes, Emily and I would all meet outside The Venue at seven-fifteen. Well, that’s what Emily thought the plan was. The more detailed plan was that Wes would text Emily and ask her to walk with him, then stop by Emily’s at seven, so that they could spend a bit of impromptu time alone. Genius!
    â€œWhy, what’s up? Is Emily not walking with you?”
    â€œYeah, she is,” he said quickly. “That part of the plan is going OK. She said we could walk together, so we’ll be seeing you there.”
    â€œOh, that’s good!” I exclaimed, but then panicked. “So what’s wrong? Is Margo not getting her in any more?”
    â€œNo, she is,” he murmured, a bite to his tone. “Margo disappeared a while ago. She’s probably gone to make some kids cry somewhere,” he muttered darkly. “The problem is that before she went, she told The Mother that I ‘have a date’ with Emily. She just loves to stir that pot; she knew it would wind me up – she knows I hate Mum knowing my business. Anyway, The Mother apparently found out that Emily was the newest money in town, and was so happy that I seemed to be taking a interest in someone ‘right for me’ that she said –” Wes put on his best “Mummy” accent. “– ‘Dear, you simply must bring her home, I’d love to meet her, she sounds just darling!’”
    â€œOhmigod!”
    Disaster!
    â€œBut your mum … she’s … she’s…” What was the best way I could put this? “She’s scary!” I blurted out. “And a little bit crazy! She can’t meet her, she actually can’t, she’ll scare her off and then the entire plan will fall to