Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 06 Read Online Free Page A

going to Hamburger-a-gogo land for a clown-car convention.”
    Dave looked at me.
    â€œYOU are going to a clown-car convention? Mad as a hen.”
    I got quite huffy.
    â€œI am very interested in old cars, as you know, and—”
    Dave said, “You would rather snog Spotty Norman than go to a clown-car convention.”
    Fair point, well made.
    I said, “Well, there is another reason…”
    Dave raised one of his eyebrows. Which was quite amusing.
    We were passing Luigi’s and Dave said, “Come on, let’s do coffee, man.”
    And we went in.
    Oh, buggering bum’s buggering bum. Sitting down at one of the tables were Wet Lindsay and Astonishingly Dim Monica.
    Sacré bloody bleu .
    Perhaps they are doing reverse stalking.
    Wet Lindsay almost threw up when she saw me with Dave. But she covered it quickly and was all dillydollyish with him. He said, “Hi,” and she batted her eyelashes and flicked her hair. She must have read How to Make Any Twit Fall in Love with You . If she tried toffee eyes on Dave, I would have to kill her. Even though Dave was slightly behind me, she looked straight through me and said to him, “Oh, Dave, it was really groovy at ‘Late and Live,’ wasn’t it? Mas and I had a great time. Did you and Rachel?”
    I hate her double with knobs on.
    Dave was coolosity personified.
    â€œYeah, it was cool.”
    And then he deliberately pulled a chair out for me at a table not too near the grotesque twins. As I sat down he said loudly enough for them to hear,“Now then, even though you treat me bad, what would you like, Ms. Gorgeous?”
    He is soooo nice. I really like the way he is, you know, so nice to me.
    five minutes later
    As Lindsay and ADM went out Lindsay gave Dave what she probably thinks (wrongly) is her attractive smile. She said, “’Bye, Dave, maybe see you when Mas gets back.”
    Then she stick-insected out of the door. Without leaving a slimy trail on the floor, surprisingly.
    I said to Dave, “I hate her, I hate her. She called him ‘Mas.’ How crap is that?”
    Dave looked at me.
    â€œYou don’t like her, then?”
    As we drank our coffee (me trying to avoid the foam mustache fandango) I wanted to ask Dave if he could find out where Masimo was. But I didn’t think I could just launch in, so I thought I would do some limbering-up questions first.
    â€œDave, you know those boys…Well, just before you got there, they ran into my legs on their bikes, then they rode off backward. Then they called us slags.”
    Dave said, “Ah, the old running into your legs, riding off backward and calling you slags thing. Ah-hum. Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?”
    â€œWhat is?”
    â€œThey fancy you.”
    â€œPardon me?”
    â€œUh-huh. Clear as daylight.”
    â€œBut why don’t they say ‘I fancy you’?”
    â€œBecause you might reject them in front of their mates.”
    â€œSo they think running into my legs on their bikes is better?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œAnd calling us slags?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œAnd they think that after they have done that, I will say, “Gosh, yes, I would love to go out with you. Once my legs heal up.”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œBut that is mad. Boys are mad.”
    Dave looked all wise and did his eyebrow thing again.
    We slurped a bit more, then I said, “But why? How does it work? You know at break at school, when you talk about personal stuff, well…”
    Dave said, “Let me interrupt you there, kittykat. Lads don’t talk about ‘stuff’ at break. They play footie or that other well-known game ‘Do you know any good dentists?’”
    I said, “What?”
    â€œYou know: ‘Do you know any good dentists? Because you are going to need one in a minute when I have to deck you.’”
    Blimey.
    Dave went on. “Of course we lads have the