Read Online Love-shy by Lili Wilkinson - Free Book Online Page B

you feel uncomfortable talking to girls?
    HAMISH: (VEHEMENT) I’m not gay , you know.
    ME: I never thought you were. I think you’re shy.
    HAMISH: Get lost.
    ME: Love-shy.
    HAMISH: (FREEZES)
    ME: You are, aren’t you? You’re love-shy. I know all about your condition. I want to help you.
    (SUBJECT’S FACE GOES ALL CRINKLY.)
    Verdict: LIKELY LOVE-SHY.
    I’ d found him.
    â€˜Just leave me alone, okay?’ He still wasn’t making eye contact.
    â€˜I’m afraid I can’t do that.’
    I made a mental list of things I’d need to fix about him. Some elocution lessons, to start with, because he had a slight lisp and his diction was dreadful. A haircut. Facial wash to clear up his skin. New clothes. I’d be the Henry Higgins to his Eliza Doolittle. Except for the part where they fall in love.
    Hamish’s eyes darted around, searching for someone to rescue him. I seriously doubted he’d have a Kate Pittman to come and maul him like Nedislav had. Hamish clearly realised this too, because his face fell.
    â€˜What do you want ?’
    â€˜I want to help you. I want to fix you.’
    â€˜I’m not broken!’
    â€˜Oh,’ I said, ‘I think you are. You totally fit the profile. I can tell you so much about yourself.’
    â€˜Go on, then.’
    I’d been reading about love-shyness for two weeks now, and was close to being an expert.
    â€˜You listen to classical music and old school Broadway showtunes. You prefer citrus fruits to other kinds. You like sweet things. You like romantic films, but not romantic comedies . You’re spiritual, but not religious. You have a weird relationship with your mother. You don’t have any sisters. You’ve never felt comfortable around other boys. You hate sport. You want a girlfriend with long brown hair and a pretty face. You’re probably allergic to milk or wool.’
    Hamish was shaking his head as though I were crazy.
    â€˜Tell me I’m wrong,’ I said.
    â€˜You’re wrong.’ He pulled his iPod out of his pocket and showed me the song he’d been listening to: ‘Hurt’, by Nine Inch Nails. ‘I don’t like fruit at all. I like science-fiction films. I’m an atheist. My mother is fine, and I have three sisters.’
    I took a half-step back. How could that be? He didn’t fit the profile at all . ‘What about the rest?’
    â€˜So I don’t have a girlfriend and I can’t catch a ball,’ he said. ‘Big deal. It makes me a loser, not a psycho . And what the hell does having a milk allergy have to do with it?’
    â€˜ Do you have a milk allergy?’
    â€˜No! I’m not allergic to anything, apart from weird bossy girls who ask intensely personal questions. What is wrong with you?’
    This wasn’t going at all the way I’d planned. ‘But you visit loveshyforum.com, right?’
    Hamish looked around to make sure no one else was listening. ‘Once or twice,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘But I’m not like them. I just want to meet a nice girl, that’s all. I’m not a freak .’
    â€˜But you post on there all the time.’
    â€˜I’ve never posted anything on loveshyforum.com.’
    â€˜But I’ve read it!’ Why was he still lying to me? ‘You’re PEZZ imist!’
    Hamish froze for a moment, his face as shocked as if I’d said he was Superman. Then he began to laugh.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜I’m not PEZZ imist,’ he said. ‘No way. I wish .’
    What? There was another student on loveshyforum.com? Was it possible?
    â€˜What do you mean, you wish ? Do you know who he is?’
    Hamish looked a little more confident, now he knew something that I didn’t. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I know who he is. But why should I tell you? You’ll just go and pester him like you’re pestering me.’
    â€˜I’m not pestering