Over the Moon by Jean Ure Read Free Book Online

day. I couldn’t even bring myself to write about it in my diary. I’d put a big STAR at the top of Monday, in anticipation, cos I’d been so sure it was going to be an over-the-moon day, but when it came to it I wrote just the one word:
Gloom.
    This is what I mean about ups and downs. For the past two weeks I’d been in a bubble, floating high, up amongst the clouds – and now, all of a sudden, without any warning, the bubble had burst and cast me down. Deep into a pit of total depression …
    But it is all a merry-go-round, cos three days later, guess what? I was back up!

    Met Simon at the station. He wanted to know if I liked football. I nearly went no, yuck, I can’t stand it! I went once with Dad and it was just sooooo boring. Fortunately, in the nick of time I remembered Simon telling me that sport was Matt’s best subject, so instead of saying yuck I went, “Mmmmm …” in that sing song sort of way that means – whatever you want it to mean! In this case, “Well, yes, maybe, quite. Sometimes.” Not actually committing myself to mad enthusiasm, but not betraying my true feelings, either. Which is just as well cos he told me that Matt isplaying in a match on Saturday and that if I liked I could go with him and watch!
    Naturally I said that I would. I am so excited! How boring can it be if Matt is there???
    So there I was, back over-the-moon. Just like that! I asked Hattie if she would like to come with me. She didn’t really want to, she said she had important stuff to put on her blog, but I nagged at her, reminding her that friendship sometimes meant
duty,
like doing things for each other even if it wasn’t madly convenient, so that in the end she obviously felt ashamed of herself and gave in. The reason I wanted her there: I had this idea that after the game we would probably all go off together somewhere, like the Panino Bar or Jolly’s or somewhere, and Hattie could sit and talk to Simon while I talked to Matt; but it didn’t quite work out that way. Well, actually, it didn’t work out that way at all.
    It was just me and Hattie and Simon, because Matt stayed on with the rest of the team for a general nosh-up so that I didn’t even get to say a proper hallo to him. That was a bit of a downer; I’d built my hopes up so high! But while we were sitting in Jolly’s, with Simonand Hattie going on at huge and boring length about the stuff she was going to put on her blog, I suddenly had this brilliant idea and without giving myself time to think, and maybe get embarrassed – because after all it could be said that I was being a trifle pushy – I leaned across the table and shouted, “Would you and Matt like to come to our after-Christmas party?”

    I don’t know why I shouted: nerves, probably. Hattie looked at me in amazement. Simon seemed a bit startled. He said it was very kind of me to ask, but he didn’t really go to parties. I said, “Not go to
parties?”
I’d never met anyone that didn’t go to parties! Simon explained that it was because he couldn’t dance, which was something that hadn’t occurred to me. I suppose it would be quitemiserable, just having to sit and watch everyone else, though goodness knows there are lots of other things to do at parties! But anyway, I hastened to reassure him. I said there wasn’t likely to be much in the way of dancing.
    “It’s mostly grown-ups … neighbours and stuff. Aunties and uncles. That sort of thing. It’s Dad’s special after-Christmas get-together. Dad
invented
it. It’s to keep people going between Christmas and New Year … it’s quite fun! Hattie always comes, don’t you?”
    Hattie nodded, without actually saying anything. It occurred to me that she could have been a bit more supportive.
    “What we sometimes do,” I said, “we sometimes go and mess around in the pool. We’ve got this indoor pool, it’s fun! Isn’t it?”
    I turned again to Hattie, who said, “I guess so, if you like that kind of thing.”
    I