Being Blonde and Being Bond

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Chapter Seven: Being Blonde and Being Bond



"You did WHAT?"

     Marissa grips me by my shoulders and shakes me roughly.

     "Hey, hey! What are you doing?" I mumble, sounding a little drunk as Marissa turns me around and shakes me again.

     "I'm trying to find the Jessica I know and love. This person in front of me is an imposter, you're not my real Jessie," she announces.

     "Alright, I get it!" I shout, pushing her away from me. I straighten my school blazer and mention for her to sit down again. We're sat in the school cantine, and I can already see we're attracting some pretty strange looks.

     "You're upset with me for giving in and having fun. I get it. But you don't understand..."

     "Oh be real Jess! You have more resolve and strength than me, and even I would've been able to stand up to someone like Mathew, I mean come on it can't, it can't... H-hello Matty!" Her voice changes from being cold and accusing to warm and fluttery half way through the sentence. I feel someone put their hands on my shoulders and I groan inwardly.

     "Hey babe. I'm picking you up tomorrow, right?" He says, and I smack my palm into my forehead.

     "No. No, you're not."

     "What happened to the Jess I left on Saturday?" He mutters, plopping down next to me.

     "She sobered up."

     Matty sighs. "So does this mean I have to start right from the beginning again?"

     I have a sudden pang of guilt. This isn't Matty's fault. He's just an ordinary guy that's been suckered into one of Parma's plans, it's not like he's evil in anyway. He doesn't deserve to be treated like this, and I can imagine how embarrassed he must be feeling, being pushed into the mud by a girl time and time again.

     "Thankyou for the clothes, but I don't want them," I say, changing the subject. I see Marissa's eyebrows rocket as I say this, and realise this is one bit of information I must have missed out.


     I had spent the rest of the weekend indoors, trying to think of ways to get out of dating more guys, but to no avail.

     Then this morning, when I awoke I went downstairs to find bags and bags of clothes, all stacked up in a pile by the door and spilled out in ranging directions. My sister, Rebecca, was stood hovering over them, saying things like "Oh my gosh, how did he afford this?" And "this is so gorgeous!"

     "What the hell?" I said, trying to step through the bags to get to the kitchen.

     "Hey! Watch out, don't step on that bag! They're from my boyfriend!" Rebecca scowled, stumbling towards me and brushing me away with her hands.

     It was then I noticed that the logo on the bags was the same for the shop I had visited two days ago with Matty. It suddenly dawned on me.

     "Oh no, I don't think these are for you," I said, rubbing my eyes as I took in the bags again.

     She turned on me and sneered, teeth bared. "You think they're for you?"

     I nodded and went to the closest bag, and saw it had a small note attached.

     "'TO JESS'" I read. "'WE NEVER DID BUY YOU THAT TOP YOU WANTED. I COULDN'T REMEMBER WHICH ONE IT WAS, SO HERES SOME TO CHOOSE FROM. ENJOY.'"

     Rebecca came over and snatched the note from my hands, and I studied the clothes with dismay. What was I to do now? I couldn't keep them - that would signal my surrender to Matty and Parma. I had to give them back to Matty somehow.


     "We'll that's a shame. I don't think they do refunds," says Mathew matter-of-factly. I throw my hands up in exasperation and him and, to my disgust, Marissa both snigger together.

     "Marissa!" I say, annoyed, and she doesn't reply, instead, waving at someone behind me.

    "Hey Marissa, hey Jess... Hi, Matty?" Luke approaches us unsurely, standing beside his chair, currently taken by Mathew. Mathew doesn't acknowledge this, and stays where he is. I'm stuck as to how Matty will act with Luke, but I'm a little taken aback with how he greets him.

     "Luke, what a lad! Come sit next to me mate," says Matty, pulling a chair up beside him from the table behind us. Luke glances at me in confusion and I find myself unable to look at him, instead staring at the floor and wishing that it would just open up and swallow me already.

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