Read Online Friends Forever! by Grace Dent - Free Book Online Page B

give you a day off today to come down here. Very compassionate of her.”
    Claude shuffles awkwardly. “Mmm,” she mumbles. “I don’t, er, think I’ll be seeing Cressida Sleeth again.”
    â€œPgh,” snorts Fleur, folding her arms. “Oh dear. Dropped you, has she?”
    Claude scowls at Fleur and doesn’t answer.
    â€œShe’s dropped you, hasn’t she?” repeats Fleur, cocking her head to the side in a satisfied manner.
    â€œShe dropped you first,” Claude retorts.
    Fleur’s face crumbles. “Pah . . . plgh,” she splutters, struggling to get the upper hand again. “Yeah, and as if I was bothered.”
    Her rattled expression seems to suggest otherwise.
    â€œIt was a relief to get rid of her. And to get shot of you too! It’s not like I’ve missed you,” Fleur tells Claude, wagging her finger. “I mean, look at you! You’re just so . . .” Fleur makes her fingers and thumbs into circles, placing them around her eyes to mimic spectacles. “Oooh, look at me, I’m Claude Cassiera! I study for nine hundred hours a week! I iron a sensible crease into my thongs! I get my thrills highlighting textbooks with neon pens!”
    Claude’s face stays poker straight.
    â€œCuh!” continues Fleur. “And at least I don’t spend my nights on the Internet chatting to geeks about books!”
    Claude simply gazes at Fleur. “Well, you’d have a job doing that, Fleur,” she replies, deadpan. “You’ve not read any books.”
    Fleur’s nostrils flare crossly. “I have so!” she says.
    â€œReally?” says Claude, sitting down at the table opposite me. “What was the last thing you read?”
    â€œThat’s easy. It was To Kill a Mockingbir—” begins Fleur.
    â€œThat you weren’t forced to read by Mr. Swainson for GCSE English?” Claude interrupts cruelly.
    Fleur looks totally stumped now. Her cheeks begin to flush pink. “Hmmm . . . ,” she huffs eventually. “Okay, it was the July Vogue swimwear special.”
    Fleur looks sheepishly at Claude, emitting a small embarrassed groan. I let out a small involuntary chuckle. Claude’s trying her best to stay serene, but her mouth is creasing upward at the corners.
    Fleur prances across, sitting her very small posterior down at the table opposite her enemy, folding her arms.
    We sit in silence for what seems like an eternity. I feel absolutely stumped at where to begin sorting this all out.
    â€œOkay. Look, both of you,” Claude says eventually, taking a deep breath. “I just want to get something off my chest. I want to apologize.”
    â€œEh?” says Fleur, staring at Claude, rather gobsmacked.
    â€œWhat for?” I ask.
    â€œFor getting so . . . so sucked in by Cressida Sleeth,” Claude sighs.
    â€œWell . . . we all did, at first,” I mumble.
    â€œYou didn’t, Ronnie,” corrects Claude. “You knew she was a vile stirrer. You said rather expressly she was trying to split us up.”
    â€œI did too, Claude!” pipes in Fleur. “I’ve been telling you for the last month.”
    â€œOkay, okay, I know,” admits Claude. “But, Fleur, you’ve been a total nightmare recently. I didn’t care what you thought.”
    â€œWhen have I been a nightmare?” gasps Fleur.
    â€œWhoa! Hold on,” I say, frowning at Fleur to shut up. “Let’s not start fighting again.”
    We all glare at the table in silence. A small group of Fantastic Voyage customers filters into the beer garden, giving our angstridden table a wide berth.
    â€œListen,” says Claude softly, turning to Fleur, who’s clearly fuming but trying to keep a lid on things for my sake. “I shouldn’t have been so tight about lending you that green dress. I’m sorry, right?”
    â€œDoesn’t matter,” whispers Fleur, her