Me: What are you talking about?

Kate: News.

Me: Can you stop saying news?

Kate: News.

Me: I think you may have actually lost the plot.

I’m not saying Kate was ever not crazy, but I swear ever since she’s fallen in love, we’re talking a whole new level.

9:04 P.M.

I had the best day, and for some bizarre reason (possibly sunstroke), I even found Tristan mildly tolerable.

And maybe I can be okay with just being Emma’s friend.

And maybe that would be better anyway.

Because friendships last.

I think Polly and I are finally okay again.

Monday, June 25 #ForeverHome

This morning I was like: What is life?

I hate that, you know, I’m so tired in the mornings, and then in the evenings I’m awake for ages because I’m finally no longer tired.

Tomorrow night people are coming over to look at the kittens.

Kate was like: “It’s time they go on to their forever homes.”

I’m obviously not their biggest fan, but it’ll be weird without them, because even though they’ve been a pain in the arse, they’ve been fun to have around.

Mum sent me a long email, because she didn’t get to speak to me yesterday because I’ve been “having way too much fun with your friends to think of your old mother.”

Why does everything have to be about her?

And I’m sorry, but yes, I honestly haven’t been thinking about her very much, because basically I haven’t seen her in five months, and I’ve been busy with GCSEs, the truth about my father, and people dying.

Emma keeps saying: “Oh, I want to be like your mum when I grow up.”

No, you actually really don’t.

Tuesday, June 26 #LiesAgain

I lied about the availability of the designer kittens (mainly Richard).

The first people arrived before Kate was back from work, and so I let them in and showed them the kittens, and I was like: “Those three are certified pure breeds, but the ginger boy one has been sold.”

So when Kate came in, the man was like: “We’ll have one of the girls. We’d prefer the boy, but I understand he’s already been snapped up.”

Kate looked at me like: What?

Me: The all-over ginger ones are always most popular.

Man: They sure are.

Kate:?

I’m glad she wasn’t like: What are you talking about, of course you can have the bloody ginger one.

When the people had gone, Kate just looked at me, crossed her arms, and was like: “Explain.”

Me: Please don’t sell Richard.

Kate (deep sigh): Phoebe.

Me: Please, let Emma have him.

Kate: Have you even asked her if she wants the bloody kitten?

Me: No.

Kate: Well, you need to have that conversation, don’t you think? And maybe while you’re at it, have that other conversation, too.

I stormed out like a proper dick and went to my room.

What’s wrong with me?

I need to stop this madness.

8:43 P.M.