Milais busy moving the contents of my wardrobe onto my bed and singing things like ‘DATE NIGHT’ at the top of her voice, which is doing drastically bad things to my makeup application. I rub off yet another wonky eyeliner wing and huff a bit.
‘Jas, you’re going on a date, not for a tooth extraction,’ Mila says, flopping onto my bed and sending clothes flying. ‘Can you at least try to be excited?’
‘Iamexcited,’ I say carefully.
‘Are you really?’ She’s suspicious. She knows me too well.
‘Yes! I am very excited. . . about pie.’
Mila groans. ‘And what about the fact that you’re meeting a new man for dinner?’
I make a ‘meh’ noise by way of an answer.
‘WHY?’ bellows my best friend.
I pick up a lipstick and decide to slick some on. Mila and Mike are going to the cinema and normally I’d be third-wheeling with them. Sometimes Mike buys me candy floss and I pretend that he and Mila are my parents. Wait, that’s a weird thing to admit. I definitely don’t do that.
‘Maybe because I’ve nicknamed him Unhinged Weirdo and not in a cute way?’ I say. ‘Not to mention the fact that he isn’t my type.’
Mila frowns ferociously. ‘That’s the whole point. Besides, French dude wasn’t your type either and you were excited about that date.’
She’s right. I rack my brains to get to the bottom of this funk. ‘I think the whole being in France thing made a difference. You just get giddy with the heat, you know? Plus, Too Much Thierry looked cute whereas I have no idea if Arnie is cute or not, because I couldn’t see past all that hair.’
‘Whichis exactly why you need to go,’ Mila says, handing me a pair of jeans covered in huge, rainbow-coloured sequins. ‘You’ve got to give him a chance. Never mind the fact that he has a beard, it should be what’s behind the beard that counts. You can be so superficial when it comes to what your date looks like and that hasn’t led to much success, has it? So let’s start focusing in on personality, okay?’
‘Alright Oprah. No, seriously, there’s a slight chance that you might be right about that and Iamgrateful for all of the effort you’re going to to help me out. I’ll tell you what you’re definitely not right about, though. These jeans. They’re covered in giant sequins! Do you want me to look like a knob on this date? Where did you even find them?’
‘They’re mine.’
‘Oh. Soz about the knob comment. Can’t I just wear normal denim jeans and a t-shirt?’
‘That’s what you always wear!’ She frowns.
‘It’s what I feel comfortable in.’
‘Okay fine, but at least sling on a necklace or some bloody earrings. What do you think Arnie will wear? Braces? Shoes without socks? A fisherman beanie?’
‘Stop! You’re winding me up on purpose.’
‘Maybe a little bit,’ she grins. ‘Listen, your date sounds like a snazzy dresser and I like that. Surely you’re bored of going out with boys in suits all the time?’
‘Maybe,’ I say, pulling on some jeans because obviously. I don’t own anything to keep my legs warm other than jeans and some unmentionable pink leggings that are for prancing about at home purposes only.
‘The answer is yes. So why are you being so sniffy about Arnie when it sounds like he’s the boy version of you?’
‘Becausethat’s not my. . .’ I stop short because Mila will kill me with her bare hands if I finish that sentence.
‘Just go and have fun. No pressure!’ she says, though it’s more of an order.
