The Boyfriend Diaries

3) Damn you, Shay, and your ridiculous ideas-

    Chapter Three: Damn you, Shay, and your ridiculous ideas-


     "Hmm, who shall we pick?" I murmured as I glanced around the lush field, painted nearly every shade of green. It seemed to have been neglected over this past week, the stems were waving in the wind that swept between each individual strand, only to be caught by the current and rushing through my hair. Whipping it viciously around my face. 

    As I struggled with the strands that were lashing across my eyes, keeping me from seeing anything at all. I began to mutter, "So, Liss," sigh. "What exactly - oh my gosh - Liss, can you help me out here?" I stopped and turned in her direction...at least, I hope I was facing her. I couldn't actually see anything, so I was just taking a wild guess.

    I must've been facing her, as I heard her familiar giggle before she spoke. "Shay, how do you manage to get yourself so tangled up by everything?" Before she gathered all my hair up and tied it back with a bobble, her fingers catching a little in my knotted hair. Once she was back in my line of sight, I raised an eyebrow at her.

    "We need to go to the girls' toilet. Now." I pointed towards my hair, not trusting Melissa to have styled it properly. She raised her eyebrows back at me but was about to oblige, until my eyes slid to the left and I stopped her from moving any where. I twirled her around and waited for her response, knowing she'd be thinking the exact same thing I was. 

    "Shay," she began, looking out at the group of lads kicking a football around, in front of us. "What are you thinking?" Her voice was heavy with dread, her chin tilting up at me as her eyes scrutinized my face. Like she was trying to work her way into my mind to find out what devious plans I was plotting. Well, guess she wasn't thinking what I was thinking. 

    And people call us partners in crime, I thought sarcastically. 

    "What you're looking at right now, Melissa Jane Martins, is test subject number one." I said with an utter feeling of greatness. My voice was low but powerful. I felt like I was in the movies, and I was about to follow through with the most greatest, life changing experiment to ever have been attempted. 

     "No," Liss began, her monotone voice shattering my envision of shaking hands with the President - even though he's in America...but come on, shaking hands with the Prime Minister sounds rubbish! - "What I'm looking at, Shayenne Hall, is Darren Nevis, the football team's fit goal keeper." She seemed a little uncertain with her reply. 

    "Exactly!" I exclaimed, jumping in front of her and shaking her shoulders. "Darren Nevis; a popular, well liked guy who's good with the ladies. He's perfect!" 

    "Uh-huh." Melissa stared with disbelief. I watched as realisation crossed her features, before it washed into a look of complete horror. "Oh no, don't tell me you're thinking what I think you're thinking." 

    "Probably not, but hey-ho!" I delved my hand into my satchel and fished out my digital polaroid camera, which I'd sneaked from my dad's office. I quickly snapped a picture of Darren, just as he was diving for another save in the goal. I definitely took after my dad and his photographing skills. Pinching the polaroid between my fingers I waved it in the air for a few moments, before slipping it into one of the three diaries I'd brought along with me. 

     "Now, all I need to do is figure out what type of girl this guy's into. In order to do that, I'm gonna have to send someone in, undercover on a covert mission, to gather the information we need." I mumbled to myself quietly in thought, tapping the corner of lips with my index finger. "But first, I need to fix my hair." I announced to Liss, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the school building. 

    It was instantly silent as we entered the halls, which were completely vacated spare for me and Liss. Everyone was either still inside the dinner halls or out getting assaulted by the harsh British wind. The soles of my shoes hitting the laminate flooring with every step echoed around the empty space.