Lobsters by Lucy Ivison Read Free Book Online Page B

of Hollyoaks . He had one of those Mr Men T-shirts on (he’d gone for Mr Messy) and a blond quiff that laughed in the face of gravity.
    Most appallingly, though, he was wearing a waistcoat. A fucking waistcoat . Unless you’re a snooker player or a magician, wearing a waistcoat outside your own house is surely not an acceptable thing to do? If you’re the sort of person who can get up in the morning, put on a waistcoat and walk out of the front door, what other atrocities might you be capable of? It doesn’t bear thinking about.
    I suppose it was strange to feel jealous over someone I’d just met, but I did. Or, I don’t know, maybe not jealous , exactly. It’s not like we had some major moment or anything, but we got on well and what are the odds of getting on well with someone you bump into outside a toilet? What are the odds of getting on well with anyone ? Especially when most of your conversation revolves around Ribena.
    I couldn’t watch any more. I turned around and pushed my way out of the kitchen. I was about to head into the living room to try to find Robin and Chris when I heard what was unmistakably Robin’s high-pitched cackle coming from inside the cupboard under the staircase.
    I opened the door, and a cloud of weed smoke hit me full in the face. I peered through it to see Robin and Ben crouched inside, smoking a spliff the size of a Cornetto. This probably makesthe spliff sound impressive. It wasn’t. It had major structural design flaws.
    Robin threw his arms up in greeting. ‘Yes, Sam! We’re hot-boxing Harry Potter’s bedroom,’ he laughed, clearly not realizing that any credibility he hoped to gain from talking about hot-boxing was immediately wiped out by his encyclopaedic knowledge of the Harry Potter franchise.
    â€˜Come on in!’ said Ben, a Cheshire cat grin splitting his face in two. He was very, very stoned.
    I shuffled inside and shut the door behind me.
    Hannah

    Freddie was out for the count. I think I even heard him snore. I sat next to him thinking about Stella and what the fuck she was playing at, and wondered whether other people had this much trouble losing their virginity? I suppose Bella Swan did have the whole potentially-being-killed-accidentally-in-the-moment thing. But at least they were on that tropical island, not a bloody trampoline. And I bet Edward didn’t taste like Wotsits.
    That was it: Freddie and me were dead in the water for tonight. I decided to just leave him to sleep it off and stood up, but the movement woke him. He opened his eyes.
    â€˜Freddie, do you want a drink of water?’
    â€˜OK, let’s go inside,’ Freddie said, sitting up. He had drool coming out of the corner of his mouth. ‘We can find somewhere quiet.’
    I wondered whether he actually still thought we were about to have sex. Really? I linked arms with him as he clearly needed support and we went into the kitchen. All of a sudden he seemed to get this fresh wind of energy and he went to kiss me again. I pushed him back firmly.
    â€˜Freddie, why don’t you have a glass of water and a nice sit-down?’ I sounded like my mum.
    I wasn’t sure if he heard me; if he had he wasn’t bothered. His eyes stayed closed.
    â€˜I think I’m going to puke,’ he said.
    â€˜Oh my god, can you get to the sick bin?’
    But he was already heaving and I knew the answer. I looked wildly round the kitchen, snatched the kettle and took the lid off. But it was too late. Freddie grabbed my waist in an effort to stabilize himself. And then he vomited. All over Stella’s blue dress, down my legs and on to my shoes.
    I heard a group of boys laugh and some girls ‘oh my god’-ing. Freddie lurched out towards the toilet. Grace and Tilly, who’d been watching the whole thing, ran over to me in a fluster. Grace had a tea towel in her hand and started to hurriedly wipe me down.
    â€˜Do you want me to find you