Love Is for Losers by Wibke Brueggemann (motivational books for men .TXT) 📕

we have to do all the party decorations and food for Sunday.

Can’t believe it’s been half a year since Mum left.

PPS: Most bizarre news from Bill.

He’s joined Instagram and now posts daily about #MowglisNewAdventures. Apparently he already has 385 followers.

Seriously, I can’t even.

And because everyone loves him and Mowgli, people have been messaging him to ask where he got the kitten from, and Kate now has ten requests for kitten viewings, and they are all coming on Monday.

PPS: Tomorrow is the last day of school. How did that happen?

Friday, July 13 #Surprise

Mum isn’t going to be here for my birthday after all.

I told Kate that my birthday is canceled.

We never went to Kingston.

11:07 P.M.

I just threw a massive tantrum.

I’m so embarrassed, and I’m not just saying that.

Kate hasn’t tried to talk to me since, which means it was bad. Like, really, really, really bad.

I kicked a wall.

Like, really, really, really kicked a wall. My foot is throbbing.

And then I threw my school shoe against the front door so hard that it left a mark.

And I screamed like I was losing it, calling Mum every name under the sun.

And then I went to my room and slammed the door so hard that the whole house shook.

And then I cried for, like, three hours.

I think that’s what they mean when they say “she lost her shit.”

I can’t see myself ever getting out of bed again.

I love Emma so much.

Saturday, July 14 #Whatever

I didn’t go to the thrift shop today, because I’m

a)  still too angry with Mum and

b)  too embarrassed to face Kate and

c) unable to deal with Emma.

I’m not even mad about Mum not coming home for my birthday even though she promised that she would, but I’m mad because I’m mad.

Because I should have expected it, because this is what always happens.

I canceled my party via Instagram, and literally five minutes later:

Polly: Are you okay?

Me: Yes, fine.

Polly: Party canceled. Why?

Me: Mum’s staying behind for a patient, so she won’t be home until next week.

Polly: That SUCKS.

Me: She sucks.

Polly: Why is she staying?

Me: Someone’s having a baby, and apparently women haven’t been able to give birth successfully without her since always, and so Mum needs to be there. Naturally.

Polly: But I’ve got a present for you. Can I at least come over tomorrow?

Me: I’m not in the mood for anyone. Sorry.

Polly: I respect that. But I’ll call you.

Me: Okay.

Polly: Don’t be sad. Love you.

Me:…

Then I watched Love Island.

Luckily the show is so dumb that my brain literally switched off to protect itself from further deterioration, and I fell asleep.

I only woke up when Kate got back from work, and I swear my whole body felt broken.

Kate (looking down at me lying on the sofa): Do you want to talk about last night?

Me (new tears rolling out of my eyes): I’m so sorry, Kate.

Kate: Thank you.

Me: It won’t ever happen again.

Kate (nodding):…

Me:…

Kate (putting her hand on my forehead like she’s checking if I have a temperature): Have you had food today? Water?

Me: No. And yes.

Kate (sitting down, putting my feet on her lap): I know you find emotions hard, Phoebe.

Me:…

Kate: But they make us human.

Me: I hate that.

Kate: I know. But what happened last night is not acceptable.

Me: I know.

Kate: I know you know, and that’s why we don’t have to talk about it again.

Me: Thank you.

Kate: Emma tells me you canceled your party.

Me: So?

Kate: So, when were you planning on telling Alex? He’s not on Instagram.

Me: Shit.

Kate: Yes, shit. But don’t worry, I spoke to his dad.

Me: I’m sorry.

Kate: You’re welcome to change your mind, you know. We can go to Morrison’s right now.

Me (shaking my head):…

Kate: Okay. But we are going to go out for lunch.

Me: I’m honestly not in the mood.

Kate: I wasn’t asking you, pet, I was telling you. I feel like telling the story of how your clever little head breached your mother’s vagina and you plopped out into my hands sixteen years ago.

Me: I guess I owe you that.

Kate: You do, pet.

10:43 P.M.

I wonder where I’ll be in a year from now.

11:15 P.M.

I’ve never cried as much as I have in the last twenty hours. I thought I was done crying, but then Kate made me a cheese toasty, and I started all over again.

Sunday, July 15 #HappyBirthdayToMe

12:01 A.M.

I’m sixteen.

11:35 A.M.

Thirty-five people have already messaged me wishing me a happy birthday, including Miriam Patel.

Emma hasn’t.

Kate gave me a card Nan and Granddad sent from Hong Kong. They say I should visit soon. Maybe I should spontaneously go this summer. It’s not like I’m doing anything else. Maybe I’ll ask Mum.

She hasn’t messaged me.

Kate, James, and I are going out to lunch now, but we have to go via the thrift shop, because Kate forgot her wallet there, and she’d never let James pay.

Monday, July 16 #HereBeDragons

So, yesterday was basically insane.

We got to the thrift shop, which was obviously shut because it’s Sunday.

Kate unlocked and shimmied inside, and James was all rubbing himself up against her back in the process, and Kate was like: “Phoebe, can you see if my wallet’s on the stockroom table?” And I was like: “Check yourself,” but Kate was like: “I can’t, because I’m kissing James.” And then she went and kissed James, and I was just like: gross.

So I walked through the shop, and into the stockroom, and suddenly all these people shouted, actually shouted:

“SURPRISE!!!!!!”

And I swear I screamed and fell to the floor.

Kate was laughing and clapping, someone switched on the lights and opened the back door, and then everyone was singing “Happy Birthday.”

Everyone was there.

In the stockroom.

Singing.

Polly, Tristan, Emma, Miriam Patel, Alex, his parents, Bill, and even Pat.

I think I must have said “fuck” about a thousand times, but no one was outraged, they just laughed at me.

My eyes kept bouncing back to Emma, and my heartbeat was all over the place, but that could have been the shock of the surprise. She smiled at me, but I knew straightaway that something was off. Missing.