The Budding Roses

The divinely magical, out of this world amazing, Butterworth twins

Sunday 25th August

I've been so tirelessly bored these past few weeks that lying face down in the dew smeared grass, listening to the planes taking off and land, has become a favourable pastime. Oh how I long to board one of them, to get out of here for just one day, from the big fat back end of this no man's conurbation, a place so devoid of cultural significance that not even the IRA can be bothered to bomb here.

'Life is boring, accept it,' Mother's eyes glare from above her copy of The Guardian. Oh how to encourage my aspirations, dear Mother, but I don't doubt that life is boring if you insist on reading that rubbish.

Typically, as the end is fast approaching, like a tornado touching land, something exciting has only gone and happened, whipping up a frenzy in my own front yard.

Today was spent just as it was yesterday, and all the days before it, with Natasha. We were just languishing about on the kerbside outside my house, throwing stones in to the grate, when "boom", I fell in love.

And here I am, never the slightest bit so greedy as to dream it possible to love anyone other than Eddie, but it seems that such a fortune can come true. Lightening really does strike twice, and in its wake has delivered to my kerbside, the divinely magical, out of this world amazing twins, Michael and David Butterworth. Twins! And living across the road from me too for all this time. This level of luck has to be unparalleled, right?

Not only are they three years older than me, not only are they super gorgeousamundo, but the good Lord has decided that not one of them will suffice, and so he has kindly given me two. Two actual breathing, speaking, tangible men (that's right, MEN!), not merely of celluloid fiction. I can't even re-call what they look like so as to describe them to you, for I'm too dazzled. It's not that there's anything significantly different about them, no special feature to mark them out against the rest of the male population. They just had this glow, an aura omitting from under their skin and circulating like a luminous wave around their beings.

Now that I'm aware of their existence I think it's time enough to put a stop to my immature fantasies of soap stars and boy band members. Any little girl can love Robbie and Mark, but it takes a woman to love a real life man. And even more of one to love two.

How I've failed to acknowledge their existence sooner is quite the nuisance, since so much vacation time has been wasted. All these weeks spent procrastinating up and down the driveway when we could have been putting our time to good use, studying their movements, formulating an action plan of how we might possibly say 'hi'.

Monday 2nd September

The doomed day has arrived. So cruel it is since we've only just found them, but today is the last day of the hubba bubba twin watch, for tomorrow it's the start of High School.

I'm not in the least bit concerned about the significance of this landmark event anymore; it's just another rubbish day to me. Who cares if I get to wear a blazer or that I have to catch the bus to get there? I'm too distraught at the idea that we might never see them again. But the reality is how are we ever going to when they insist on attending school at somewhere as ridiculously far away as St. Leonard's. Why the moon would be closer. Plus as autumn progresses it's going to start getting dark earlier, and then that's it, six months of a dead end night time.

Wednesday 4th September

Holy moly macaroni cheese and sesame seeds! I just knew that all our hard work hanging around the bus stop, practising looking cool wasn't to go wasted, because well whaddya know, even more good luck has landed on my luckiest of lucky heads (note, I should definitely start playing the lottery as soon as I turn sixteen): Michael and David ride the same bus as me to school! So it turns out that despite St. Leonard's being a zillion miles away, the 136 stops there too and joy to my life is at last restored.