Love Is for Losers by Wibke Brueggemann (ebook pc reader .txt) 📗

cream should actually be green, white, and red? Because that’s the Italian flag.

We sat at Sprinkles for almost two hours. Partly because talking, and ordering, and Alex takes his time ordering and eating, but mainly because we had a really nice time.

Afterwards I walked them back to the thrift shop, and guess who we ran into outside Tesco?

Miriam Patel.

And Mrs. Patel, who must’ve had a facelift since I last saw her, because no one could possibly be that surprised to see me.

Miriam: Oh, hi, Phoebe.

Me: Oh, hi, Miriam.

Miriam: I’m out shopping with my mum. What are you doing here?

Me: I’m just out with my friends.

Miriam (looking at Emma and Alex, clearly judging): Oh, hi, I’m Miriam.

Me: Miriam; Emma, Alex. Emma, Alex; Miriam.

Emma and Alex: Hi.

Me: Anyway, we’ve got to go.

Miriam: Yeah, we have to go, too. Bye, Phoebe, see you next week.

Me: Yes, bye, see you next week.

And then I dragged Emma and Alex away, and I was just like: “Oh my God, that was Miriam Patel. She’s in my year, and she’s horrendous. She’s always really nice to your face, but as soon as you’ve turned your back, she’ll slag you off.” And then Alex went: “Takes one to know one,” totally suggesting I was doing the same thing, so I was like: “Oh, shut up, Alex,” and then Emma started laughing, and she ended up laughing so hard that she literally cried.

Thing is: Of course he’s right. I was doing a Miriam Patel on Miriam Patel, which means I can sink no lower.

And now I’m really worried that Emma thinks I’m actually like that, because I’m not. I’m the least two-faced person I know. Fine, I often say things, and people are like: OMG, Phoebe, you can’t say that, but nine times out of ten they were thinking it, too.

11:44 P.M.

Found this, written by a person called Thomas Moore: “Eyes of most unholy blue.”

Friday, February 23 #SocialMediaHell

Yes!!! Instagram follow request from Emma. She doesn’t hate me. But I obviously can’t accept straightaway, because that’ll make me look proper desperate.

I’ll wait until midnight.

I’ll finally be able to stalk her.

Four hours to go.

Why is this so stressful?

8:59 P.M.

Bored.com.

Three hours to go.

11:10 P.M.

Watched crap telly with Kate and already fell asleep once.

Fifty minutes to go. I can do it!

Saturday, February 24 #LukeSkywalker

4:15 A.M.

I can’t believe I fell asleep. Emma’s gonna be like: Why has she accepted my follow request at 2 A.M.? Anyway, I did, and now I can’t go back, and apparently I can’t go back to sleep, either.

The last time I went to such lengths to Insta-stalk someone was with Polly when she needed to know every last detail of Training Wheels’s life.

Thing is, after spending all that time I’ll never get back looking at Tristan’s Instagram, I knew everything about him.

Miriam Patel’s the same; nothing’s secret, nothing’s sacred, nothing’s even slightly intriguing anymore, because she has visually and verbally vomited her entire being onto the page.

Emma is the exact opposite. There’s nothing there. She only has one hundred seventy-five followers, which is way below average, and her last post is a picture of a Christmas tree from December 25. I mean, I never really post anything, either, but I’ve got five hundred and three followers, and I don’t even like people, nor do I ever follow request anyone myself, because it stresses me out.

In order to find out who Luke Skywalker is, I went through all her followers and everyone she follows, but I can’t see anyone who looks even remotely like him. Unless, of course, he’s an ex and she’s unfollowed him, but then she wouldn’t have that picture up anymore, would she? It’s also the first ever picture she posted, but he’s not tagged in it. Lots of people have commented, but it’s all like: “Lovely picture of you two,” or “Love, love, love.” So, that’s not really telling, either.

I’m giving up Insta-stalking for Lent, because the stress of not accidentally liking a picture from months ago (at three in the morning) or follow requesting someone’s random cousin twice removed is just too much. I mean, I love social media, but my God, I’m losing my mind.

And seriously, who’s Luke Skywalker?

Sunday, February 25 #GetMeOffInstagram

I Insta-stalked Emma again.

I think I need help. Social media addiction is an actual thing.

According to the internet, it affects two hundred and ten million people. That’s 3.2 times the population of the UK!

But I swear, as soon as I know what Emma’s all about, I’ll stop.

Here are the updates: Emma’s got three more followers since I last looked, all of them old, like forty, and there’s more comments on the Luke and Leia picture, but again, nothing that gives me a single clue as to who that boy is or when the picture was taken.

And still no posts.

WHY?

Where does she go, and what does she do?

And then there are people like Miriam Patel, and I can give you a detailed account of every single mundane thought they’ve had over the past twenty-four hours, as well as the nutritional value of their breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Monday, February 26 #TheEndOfABeautifulFriendship

Miriam Patel and I are over.

When I got to school, Polly was waiting for me by the gate, and she was like: “Miriam Patel is telling everyone you’re dating someone with Down syndrome.”

Me: Did she actually say that?

Polly: She was like: “Isn’t it sweet that Phoebe is dating a guy who is suffering from Down syndrome?”

Me (thinking: This is too good.):…

Polly: Tristan knows someone with Down syndrome.

OMG! Why do people always have to say things like that? “Yeah, like, I know someone who’s, like, disabled, too, like…” Shut up!

So, here’s what I did: I waited. Until lunch, when I sat down at Miriam Patel’s table.

Miriam: Oh, hi, Phoebe.

Me: Oh, hi, Miriam. Just FYI, Alex isn’t my boyfriend.

Miriam (clearly regretting her life choices):…

Me: He’s a friend I know from Kate’s thrift shop. And also, people don’t “suffer” (I actually drew speech marks in the air at that point)