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

about you. This is about Bill, so you need to get over yourself. And I’m sorry if that sounds harsh.”

So I sat on a bench, and the whole time, I was thinking: Don’t be sick, don’t be sick, don’t be sick, because I felt like I was going to vomit.

I sat against the wall in the third row from the front, and Emma sat to my left, then Kate, James, Alex’s dad, Alex, Alex’s mum, and Pat.

My stomach was fluttering like mad, and I was shaking, and when I looked over at Emma, she was crying again, even though the service hadn’t even started, and then I wanted to cry, too, because it made me so sad.

Bill looked very smart in a three-piece suit, and he nodded at us when he saw us. There were a gazillion old people there, and the place was absolutely heaving, and at one point, I turned around and saw that people were even standing in the back and in the aisle because there was nowhere left to sit.

Me (whispering to Emma): I think I’m going to be sick. What if I have to be sick, and I can’t get out, and I throw up all over these people?

Emma (unzipping her Topshop handbag and holding it open for me):…

Me: No way.

Emma: You’re not going to be sick, but yes. Just in case.

Me: Thank you.

And then Emma took my hand, and interlaced her fingers with mine, and kissed it the way I had kissed hers the day Melanie died.

I noticed that Kate noticed, but she didn’t say anything.

The whole funeral took no more than half an hour.

Because I hadn’t been to one I don’t actually know how good it was, but I thought it was nice.

The only awful part was at the very end when the coffin got transported out on a conveyer belt and they played “Fly Me to the Moon,” and everyone who wasn’t already crying burst into tears and watched Melanie leave the room. Then the curtain shut behind her, and the funeral narrator person was kind of like: Okay, everyone, show’s over, and so we weren’t allowed to sit there and digest what had happened, because the next funeral party was already outside, waiting to come in.

I can’t get over the fact that Melanie’s whole life was reviewed in less than half an hour.

Imagine it, you live for eighty-six years, then you die, and a stranger narrates the highlights, before gently yet firmly ushering your friends out of the chapel, because he has to do the very same about another dead person he never met five minutes later.

I’m not being funny, but emotional detachment is potentially the greatest superpower of our time.

After the funeral, we went on to Bill’s sailing club to have designer canapes and drinks, and Bill just said: “Thank you everyone for coming.”

This time last week he was giving a roaring speech about that Star Wars poster.

Saturday, June 16 #Pat

I know Pat’s the most horrendous person that ever lived, but turns out she’s really good in a crisis.

She’s basically living at Bill’s house, because he’s still so shocked he can barely get out of bed in the mornings.

According to Kate, Pat has repeatedly been threatening to send him into a home, which is a bit harsh, considering Melanie’s only been dead for a week, but it’s also a bit LOL, TBH.

PS: It also just occurred to me that GCSEs are almost over. All I have left is the certificate in Math 1 and 2, and then it’s done. How did that happen?

PPS: Polly has dance GCSE on Tuesday. I don’t understand how you can give an academic grade on dance, but best of luck to everyone. LOL.

Sunday, June 17 #ViolentDelights

Emma and I accidentally had a nap together this afternoon, and it was the best thing in the world ever.

She has no more exams, and so decided to spontaneously come over at lunchtime, and we made cheese toasties and cups of tea. Emma played with Richard, and then I was like: “What do you want to do?” And Emma said that she didn’t want to do anything because she was really tired, and so I was like: “Great, we can just watch some crap on telly.”

We put on old episodes of Love Island, and not five minutes into it, Emma was like: “These people are so redundant.”

I remember thinking about what a great word that is, and then the next thing I knew, I was waking up with Emma’s bare legs across me. She was asleep, and I was just like: This is nice, and so I went back to sleep, too.

We only woke up when Kate and James came back from their romantic brunch date (blech!) and Kate was like: “Phoebe! Emma!”

I felt busted, but I don’t think she meant it in that way, because she was smirking at me, and I was thinking: If you say anything embarrassing right now, I’m leaving forever.

Emma’s parents were expecting her for dinner, so she couldn’t stay, and I walked her home at five.

Just before we got to her house, she took my hand again, and I let her hold it, even though after, like, five seconds, I had a seriously sweaty palm situation going on, and my stomach was 100 percent literally fluttering, and then I was like: Remember the list, and then I forgot to breathe like a normal person, which made me so dizzy that I nearly passed out.

When we said goodbye, we hugged, and even though I’ve hugged Emma loads now, I still don’t know what to do with my hands, which is ridiculous, because when I hug Polly, I literally don’t even think about it.

I was just wondering if my arms felt at all awkward to Emma when she pulled away, and then suddenly her nose brushed along the side of my face, and it accidentally made me flinch.

Emma smiled at me, but her eyes looked like she was trying to work out