Diamonds Are a Teen's Best Friend Read Online Free

to?’
    ‘Want to what?’ Holly looks over at me, confused.
    ‘Talk about it.’
    ‘Oh. Right. Um …’ She gives me a look. One that I don’t really like because I can tell, in that assessing moment as her eyes skim over me, that she suddenly realises I’m a kid. Thus, I’m safe. She can tell me anything.
    ‘Hey, if you don’t want to …’ I start, and Holly waves a hand.
    ‘No, it’s not that.’ She gives me one last, thoughtful look. ‘It’s just that there’s not much to talk about, I’m afraid. It’s all said and done. The wedding’s off.’
    Holy … I try not to jump out of my sun lounge. Not much to talk about? I can think of a few gossip columnists who would disagree. ‘Oh, really?’
    Silence.
    I’m not quite sure what to say now, but eventually it comes down to two choices: to ask or not to ask. Being me, I opt for ask. ‘Was there, um, someone else?’
    Holly snorts. ‘Several someone elses, it seems. Including our pool cleaner. That was the someone I caught him with.’
    Ah. Er. What do I say to this one? And why is she telling me all of this? Isn’t it a bit of a secret? ‘I’m …’ I shrug.‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ And Holly must see the look in my eyes because she snorts again.
    ‘It’s okay. The pool cleaner was a woman. And why am I telling you all of this?’
    I have no idea. ‘Maybe you need to let it all out?’
    Holly snorts. ‘Maybe. Anyway, it’s not okay, is it? About the pool cleaner, I mean. But good riddance to bad rubbish, I say. My grandmother never liked him anyway. I should have listened to her. She always said that any man who changed his name from Kenneth Mananopolous to Kent Sweetman couldn’t possibly be any good, and it turns out she was right. Plus, it’s not like he was much …’ She trails off as she turns her head to look at me. And I think she must suddenly remember my age again, because she changes tack fast. ‘I mean he wasn’t much … of a mocktail maker.’
    Hmmm. Sure. I eyeball her. ‘I do know people have sex. I’m, um, sixteen, you know.’ Sixteen? Where did that come from?
    Holly laughs. ‘Oh, yes. I forgot about your dad.’
    ‘ I didn’t.’ I roll my eyes like the true sixteen-year-old that I now (sort of think I) am. There’s another pause.I use it to develop a more worldly voice. ‘It’s a bit sad, though. That you broke up.’
    Holly looks away quickly. ‘Well, it’s not like it hasn’t happened before.’
    Ouch. I think back and remember the Kent thing had always been a bit off and on. And from my tabloid study I know Holly’s been engaged at least twice before. Hey … my head whips around as I see something out of the corner of my eye. It’s a guy. A tall skinny guy about halfway down the deck. A guy with a camera. And he’s taking photos of us. I open my mouth to say something to Holly, but then he turns and starts taking photos of other people. Oh. I shake my head. Duh – he’s the ship’s photographer. For a moment there I thought he was spying on Holly or something. I’ll have to remember to go and look at the display of photos later. And I’ll have to buy a million copies to send to everyone I’ve ever known!
    Beside me, Holly sighs, still looking out to sea. ‘Yes. On the man front, I seem to be setting a trend.’
    Huh? Oh. Oops. How bad do I feel now? Holly’s telling me all about her two-timing fiancé, the guy she was ready to spend the rest of her life with, and I’m sitting herewondering how many photos I’ll be able to badger my dad into paying for. ‘Maybe you’re just a hobo collector?’ I say the first thing that comes into my head (always a mistake). This was something Lorelei had said about Dorothy. She always picked the wrong guy too.
    ‘A what?’
    ‘A hobo collector. You know, always picking the wrong guy. It’s like my Aunt Greta. My dad’s sister. She collects meantiques.’
    ‘Meantiques?’ Now Holly really looks at me.
    ‘Yeah. Too-old men who are mean to