It used to annoy him at first, but now I think it just amused him. He smirked and rolled his eyes-his here she goes again look. Basically, I was screwed and downright lucky that Lewis was so blind. I wasn’t model pretty or Playboy sexy, and I didn’t have bucket loads of confidence. But what did you do if you weren’t confident? That couldn’t be faked without it being obvious. Do I look okay?Īpparently the most attractive thing was confidence. No matter how easy the steps to the perfect bedhead look were in a magazine, I never could make it work. My hair was boring, flat, and never looked right. I shrugged and studied my reflection in the mirror. You’re supposed to accept someone you love for who they were, so I accepted his messiness. My mum was right: the longer you were with a man, the grosser they became. Sometimes I missed the time when Lewis didn’t tell me he was getting off the phone because he needed to pee or when he would pick up his dirty underwear before I came over.
We’d been together over a year, so we were more than comfortable with each other now. He let himself into my room-as usual-and sat down on the bed. Hey, what time are you leaving? Lewis asked.
Tonight I was going to celebrate the end of the school year at a gig by a school band, and I was determined to have some fun. The heavy clouds made it look way too dark for July, but not even that was going to faze me. Looking out my bedroom window, I’m faced with yet another dull English summer day.
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