Just a Girl, Standing in Front of a Boy Read Online Free

carrying around for months and on it I wrote,
     
    Hello, you don’t look very happy and I hope you’re not offended but this might help. My best friend wrote this for me when I was down. It’s called the Smiling Manifesto, I’ve been doing all the tasks now, daily, for years, and it really helped me. If you don’t want it, you might know someone else who could use it.
    I then somehow managed to cram all ten points onto it. Towards the bottom my writing had gone from beyond minuscule to that which might well be deciphered with only a microscope. Anyway, I managed it, whether or not she’d be able to read it or not, I didn’t know.
    Philippa and I finished our drinks and stood up. We had to hurry because they started charging on the door of the club in a minute. We didn’t even need to discuss the next bit, we’d been perfecting it for years. She got up from the table and walked over to where the pretty girl was sitting with her boyfriend on the banquette. I followed. I saw that the girl’s bag (also a holdall) was nestled next to her, open and waiting for me to slip the letter in. This would be easy.
    ‘Am I being stupid?’ Philippa started while I hovered next to the pretty girl’s bag. ‘I can’t find the loos in here.’
    ‘Oh,’ the unhappy girl starts. I lean down to drop the card into her bag. Seamless.
    ‘Oi! Oi!’ Sandy-coloured-hair man shouts, getting quickly to his feet. ‘What are you doing with her bag?’ He challenged us. We stared back, open mouthed, we’d never been caught before. I couldn’t help but be impressed and I found myself thinking how nice it would be to have someone watching out for me in that way. A wingman. I had a wingwoman, of course. I had the best wingwoman in the world in Philippa. But as this handsome man leapt to his feet I couldn’t help but feel a longing for a man who cared for and wanted to protect me too. I was getting those urges a lot at that time. I suppose I was lonely for love. He’s gallant, I thought, and it struck me that gallant wasn’t a word that got used much any more. In Nunstone, anyway.
    ‘It’s the oldest trick in the book that, “Where’s the toilet?” distraction. Thieves! Thieves!’ he shouted. ‘I’m calling the police!’
    Now, I would like to say here, in my defence, that I didn’t start the laughing. It was Philippa. She always starts the laughing. She’s been like this since school. We’d be hauled into the headmaster’s office for causing some sort of uncool ruckus like trying to smoke oregano and setting off the smoke alarm. We’d be sheepishly receiving a bollocking when I’d notice, out of the corner of my eye, that Philippa was silently rocking back and forward. Uncontrollable laughter always starts with silent rocking and once it starts, it generally takes around four and a half seconds for me to be laughing too. I am powerless to keep a straight face once Philippa starts with the silent rocking.
    So the sandy-haired gallant bloke mentions the police and Philippa starts doing some really rather dynamic rocking.
    ‘Check your bag! Check your bag!’ he’s shouting now, and jumping from foot to foot. ‘I thought air hostesses were well paid!’
    Four and a half seconds are up. Philippa snorts. I have to sit down, the laughs come so hard. A barman comes over. The girl simply sits quietly squinting at the card.
    ‘It’s all right, Matt, they didn’t take anything. They left me a note. Let’s go.’
    ‘Left you a note?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘What’s it about?’
    ‘Just a girly note. Saying they like my dress.’
    Sandy-haired man shakes his head as though he’s never heard anything so ridiculous. The pretty girl nearly smiles but not quite. Philippa and I nod to each other and head for the door.
    I had absolutely no idea that six months later sandy-haired man would have seen me naked. Mind you, there would be a few more fateful meetings before we got to that point.
    Don’t whatever you do get Philippa talking