Chapter Five
Snot.
I still haven't told you how I met James an Annabel, have I? Not like you care, but it's all about the journey and you need to live it from the beginning. Or else. I met Annabel at England's equivalent of kindergarten, named simply pre-school. I suppose the name literally makes more sense. Well, I can't remember it very well, apart from the fact that our parents had been friends since they were in labour together so we got stuck together and did finger painting. A long eleven years has passed since then and I've become less gullible, grown able to tell when she's lying to impress other people. It's not a bad thing; it can just get a bit annoying sometimes. Like when we were in year five and had just had the talk about the birds and the bees and she was going around telling everyone that her (ahem) menstrual cycle had begun already and everyone was asking her what it felt like. Turns out that even now, she's pre-pubescent. White lies never hurt anyone. Especially not me, their music's epic. Ahem.
Anyway, I met James only two years ago. Well, to tell the truth, I heard of him two years ago because Annabel had a huge crush on him. I honestly don't know why, his class nickname at my old school was 'The Picker, The Licker, The Flicker', because he consumed his nasal mucus. Yet again, so does she, so I can kind of see the attraction. Other than that, though, he's a nice person. Sarcastic, but he gave me cake. That might be another reason, right there, why she fancies him. She asked him out a couple of school discos ago, and they've been snogging ever since. I think it's kind of cute though, in a snotty kind of way. She's a bit lucky, I guess, to have someone who likes her. I'm one of the emo loners who will be single until I'm 93.
I first actually met James outside of science, when he was reading (one of the few at our school who actually did) a Darren Shan book. I'd read one of his books, it was rather outstanding and I'm really judgmental. Not mental about judging, but I do have strong opinions about what I do and don't like. So, thus, a friendship was silently born. Yeah.
Back to the present day, I was walking out of ICT when I saw the terrible red poster which rises its ugly head annually. The Valentine rose service. Sixth form need to raise money for their prom, so they give everyone the opportunity to send chocolate and roses to their crushes anonymously. I'm most likely the only female homosapien who ever lived on the face of the planet that hasn't received anything from the opposite gender in my whole life, apart from relatives. Two tarts were leaving the classroom behind me when one prodded me in the shoulder with a pink manicured fingernail, sniggered when I turned around to face her, and asked in a dopey voice that seems to drag everything with a Y chromosome within a metre radius "Valentine's day, Aimee, anyone gettin' you stuff?" I simply said "No." She lifted a thickly powdered eyebrow and said between donkey-like laughs "Well-honk- that wasn't-honk- unexpected," she cleared her throat, chewed her disgusting gum, and said "You do realise that's really bad, right?" her friend guffawed and I just ignored her and walked quicker so I could catch up with Helen and the rest of the crew. Wow, that sounded clichéd.
