Pride and Premiership (3 page)

I bought an LBD, a flowery maxi dress and some killer heels. And now I’m going to eat an apple. Yesss!

OMG! Malibu’s wearing high-waisted hot pants with a black vest and black-patent wedges for her date with Goldenballs. Before she left work Natasha topped up her spray tan, so she looks double, triple hot. She put on a French accent and said to me, “Monsieur Gary Johnson weell find me irreeseestible.”

“Remember you’ve got to hold out,” I reminded her.

“Of course. It’s my bloody rule,” she replied.

She’s meeting him at the top of our road because she doesn’t want Mum and Dad sticking their noses in.

I asked her why. Mum would love to know she’s finally pulled a footballer.

“Yeah, but she’ll probably make it really obvious that it’s her dream come true and scare him off. He’s not in the bag yet… Plus Dad will just give him the eyes,” she added, imitating the look Dad gives to boys when we first bring them home. The one that says, “Mess with my girl and I’ll knock you into next week!” And we giggled.

“Good point,” I told her.

When she was leaving, Dad said, “You can’t go out like that!”

And Mum shouted at him, “Just bloody leave her alone,” because she’s still upset with Dad after their (secret) argument last night.

Googled Robbie and zoomed in on a picture of him in his football kit. He has thighs like a Greek god! His birthday’s on 3 November, which makes him a Scorpio – just like Leonardo DiCaprio. And there’s no mention of a girlfriend. Yesss! Move over Leonardo, there’s a new Scorpio in town.

I’m depressed. Went on Robbie’s Facebook page and it’s full of blonde, skinny “friends” with pneumatic bazookas. Need to lose weight, pronto!

Malibu woke me up to boast about eating in a posh restaurant called Nobu.

She said Gary has a Bentley convertible and it’s like riding around on a £120,000 sofa. One hundred and twenty grand!! That could buy me a flat!

“What car does Robbie drive?” she asked.

I shrugged, then moaned, “I was sleeping, you know.”

Now feel guilty about cutting her off in her prime, but think I’m still hurt that Blow-dry Sarah knew she was going out with Gary before me.

Plus I’m bloody starving!!

And I need beauty sleep for my big date tomorrow. (Can’t believe I’m going out with an actual Premiership footballer!)

Now I feel like this:

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Robbie just texted:
Will pick you up at 6 princess. Just tell me where. x

So I gave him the salon address. (Malibu’s right – don’t need Mum or Dad getting involved this early.)

It’s so–oo exciting!

Shall I wear the new LBD or the maxi dress? Hmm… I’ll phone Kellie and see what she thinks.

Kellie said she can’t tell without seeing them both. She’s the crappiest best friend ever. I’ll phone my BMF – James is a fashion guru, he’ll know.

Just remembered, James isn’t my best male friend any more – after our little disagreement about me “borrowing” his GHDs.
I managed to end the call a microsecond before his phone rang. Phew!

As Robbie’s picking me up from work, I’ll take both dresses in with me and see what the girls think.