Read Online Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 04 by Dancing in My Nuddy Pants - Free Book Online Page B

bombshell.
    â€œGeorgia, what is this with Robbie? Why is he phoning you all the time and coming round? How old is he?”
    I said with great dignosity, “Father, I am afraid I can’t discuss my private life with you as I have a date with Lord of the Flies .”
    He said, “Who’s he, then?” And the “lads” all laughed.
    I said, again with great dignosity, “It is a book by William Golding that I have to study for my homework.”
    10:30 p.m.
    I can’t phone Robbie because then Dad will know that I am phoning him and that will make him even more full of suspiciosity.
    11:00 p.m.
    Lord of the Flies is so boring…and so weird. I always thought boys were very very strange, but I didn’t think they would start eating each other. Bloody hell, I must make sure I never end up on an island with a bunch of boys!
    wednesday january 5th
    Tom arrived back from the family Chrimboli. Jas was ridiculously excited. She is a fair-weather pal, because I know I will be dumped now that her so-called boyfriend is back. And SG isn’t back until next Tuesday.
    friday january 7th
    Snowed like billio overnight. Angus leapt out of the front door like he normally does and completely disappeared from view, the snow was so deep. He loves it and is leaping and sneezing about in the back garden.
    Rosie and the gang are going sledging down the back fields. But I am not in the mood for winter sports until my beloved returns. I explained this to Rosie and she said, “Make love, not war.” What is she talking about?
    Besides, I saw Ellen and Dave the Laugh holding hands down at Churchill Square yesterday and it made me feel a bit funny. I don’t know why.
    saturday january 8th
    10:00 a.m.
    Robbie phoned from East Jesus (or Prestan-a-gogogogoch…anyway, somewhere in Welsh country). The gigs are going really well, but he is shattered and can’t talk much because his throat is sore from singing. He said, “I miss you, gorgeous.”
    Boo hoo, this is so sad.
    Still, he is back on Tuesday. I may distract myself by doing snogging exercises to limber up.
    sunday january 9th
    3:00 p.m.
    My exercise regime: doing my yoga sun salute ten times and then pucker-ups (like Mick Jagger) forty times.
    6:00 p.m.
    Stalag 14 starts again tomorrow. Shall we never be free? On the bright side, the snow gives a very good comedy opportunity for an outing of glove animal.
    8:00 p.m.
    Rang around the ace gang.
    â€œRosie.”
    â€œ D’accord. It’s me.”
    â€œIs it you?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œGood-bye.”
    â€œGood-bye.”
    Rang back. “I’ll just say this: Operation Glove Animal and Snow Blindness.”
    â€œPip, pip.”
    Phoned Jools and Mabs and Ellen, who are all prepared. Then I phoned Mrs. Useless Knickers. “Jas, it’s snowing. Prepare glove animal.”
    â€œOh no, we’ll only get bad conduct marks immediately.”
    â€œYes, but think of the hilariosity of it.”
    â€œBut…”
    â€œJas, if you can’t think of the hilariosity, think of the severe duffing you will get if you don’t do it.”
    monday january 10th
    8:30 a.m.
    Rendez-vous ed at the bottom of the hill, where we all clipped on our glove ears under our berets and put on sunglasses. As we bobbled up the hill, Rosie was nearly going to the piddly-diddly department on the spot as she was laughing so much.
    8:55 a.m.
    Mabs did actually walk into a tree because she couldn’t see through her sunglasses. Oh, how we laughed.
    As we approached the school gate, we could see Hawkeye lurking. We tucked our ears up under our berets but kept our sunglasses on.
    Hawkeye tutted and ferreted at us as we walked by. She said, “What is this nonsense?”
    I said, “It’s to prevent snow blindness, Mrs. Heaton.”
    She said, “It’s a pity there’s no way to prevent stupidity.” Which I think is quite bad manners for someone who