Monday's Entry

MONDAY:

There were such a lot of people in the front yard that I had to make Michael go for more donuts. Of course he complained for nearly twenty minutes until I promised him a new videogame, and then he hopped on his bike and pedaled off. My brother really does have to be bribed to do everything, but in this case I don’t blame him, because the whole garden was just packed with reporters, and they were awfully pushy. I had to laugh when he nearly knocked over one. She planted herself right in his path and shouted questions, but Michael can only focus on one thing at a time and didn’t even see her. The only bad part was that she jumped out of his way and landed in the tulips. Mum’s, of course, and she’d been working on those for months. Oh well. As it was, the whole garden was a shocking mess and she was going to have a fit when she got home.

I tried to do the washing, but I was bombarded with twenty questions for every clothespin I stuck up, and finally I got very cross and told them to bugger off.
One of the posh-er blokes got in my face at that. “Miss Smith, what do you have to say about the events which have transpired here today?”

Well, he had such a nasty sneaky tone in his voice that I stuck my tongue out at him and told *him* to bugger off, and then I banged back inside. Having to hang the clothes all over the stairs did not improve my mood and I said some really awful things at the top of my lungs, which I regret now because I suppose somebody’d recorded it and later it’ll be on YouTube and won’t I be in a scrape then? Only the other day mum was complaining about people who use vulgar language, and made me promise not to ever use it.

Though I really do feel that I deserved a bit of a shout. It was turning out to be such a trying day.

I made a really savage cup of tea to let off some steam and cheer myself up, and then I went to the kitchen cupboard and poked my head in. It smelled awful, like cheese and sewage, but I tried not to show how horrid it was.

The aliens were huddled in the far corner, looking wretched. I felt sorry for them, really I did, because they were such pale, miserable-looking things, and I could tell they were cold, ‘cause they kept shivering. I asked them if they needed anything that I could give them, and they very politely said no thank you. They didn’t talk, not properly anyway, but it was like I just knew what they said. I could tell they felt rather sick, and I offered to get them some tea, but they weren’t interested.

Your planet is very . . . dry. And . . . pretty, the one said. I could tell he—it? I dunno—was trying to be nice, but it was obvious that he thought it was awful. Which didn’t bother me, because at the moment I really realized how much they looked like frogs, and I thought that they must be used to more humidity.

As soon as I thought that, I had a brilliant idea and ran upstairs. You see, the upstairs bathroom is lovely in the winter, because it steams up like everything, but awful in the summer. It gets so hot and wet that you feel like you haven’t gotten clean at all, and so we all avoid it. But I figured that they might appreciate it, so I hurried up and turned on all the taps to hot—a waste of the heat, and I knew that there’d be another row about that, but they looked so unhappy downstairs that I couldn’t help it. The air got real thick real fast, so I hurried back to the poor creatures in the cupboard and made them come with me. They were real reluctant, but I could tell they were so confused that they’d follow anybody who was bossy enough.

And as soon as they went into the bathroom I could tell that I was right, because they sighed really very hard with happiness and settled into the tub itself. There were clouds of steam coming off it, and I thought it must be scalding, but they were very glad to have it. The smaller one said thank you very politely, but it sounded more real than anything else they’d said. I told them “welcome” and then scarpered because it was bloody awful in there. Like jumping inside a dryer with all the clothes in it still sopping wet.

The doorbell rang, and I raced for it because I remembered that Michael had forgotten his key, as usual. He had his face squished against the door, his eyes all desperate because there were three reporters stuck right up with him, jabbering away like anything. I let him in and made ugly faces at the cheeky blokes and told them to piss off. Michael threw two boxes of donuts behind him and made it inside with the third one.

“I’m not going out there again!” he grumbled, stuffing a chocolate donut in his face. “Not even for two videogames, and I mean it. They chased me halfway up the road.”

“Well, you’ll have to go out eventually, ‘cause mum made me promise to take Mrs. Carper her groceries,” said I.

He shoved another one, cream this time, into his mouth and didn’t even bother to chew. “That’s you, not me,” he said. “It’s your own fault for promising. You can take my bike, but I’m not going out there again.”

Well, I couldn’t believe him! Sending his defenseless sister out there in the crowd like that, but he wouldn’t budge, and I really think I won’t buy him that videogame after all. Serves him right.

Although Mrs. Carper really is ancient and sweet, so I did feel a bit guilty about complaining, because she lives an awfully long way from the shops, and can’t really move much from her chair. So I put on my noble face and said I’d go. But I made sure to eat three donuts first to keep up my strength for the ride.

Michael’s bike is awful rickety, but it’s quick, which I needed to get out of there, I’m telling you. One of them actually grabbed my arm and didn’t let go until I started shouting that he was touching me inappropriately, and then he let go pretty fast, that’s for sure. Some of the other reporters started laughing and I took my chance to speed out of there.

And of course it had to be Steven at the shop, and of course I was all out of breath and red-faced and looked truly awful. He acted like he didn’t notice, but I know he had to of. I had to pedal really fast to get there, ‘cause it’s at the top of this hill, and so I was sweating like an utter pig.

Or worse, he didn’t notice because I’m not worth noticing! Bloody hell.

At least Mrs. Carper was grateful to get her food. She called me a “lovely girl” and gave me two pounds, which was nice. I think I’ll buy some new make-up, no matter what mum says. She always goes on about animal testing and whatever but if I don’t do something, I shall have to go alone to the Christmas Dance, and then I shall truly feel like an utter loser.

The garden was still full of reporters when I got back, but I just pedaled right at ‘em until they got out of my way then jumped in the door. The whole house felt like a swamp and Michael started shouting at me as soon as I walked into the kitchen.

“They have got to go, Fee, I can’t stand it! My mates called to see if I wanted to go out, only I couldn’t because of those idiots from the paper, and because those things upstairs have got the hot water running from all the taps. I don’t know how come they haven’t run out yet, but I’m dying in here.” He was lying on the floor, eating an ice pop, but he was still sweating like anything. “Why’d they land here, anyway? They could have landed in a park or something. More room, yeah?”

I grabbed an ice pop too and sat next to him. “I dunno. I think they said they got lost or something. And come on, Michael, they’re scared and miserable. Can’t you give them a little bit of a break?” We only had grape left, but it was better than nothing. “I mean, they’re aliens! From another planet! Aren’t you just a bit excited?”

He shrugged, the little twit. “They look like frogs. Not very exciting.”

I tried to look offended, but had to admit he was right. Even I’d noticed. “Just shut up and be nice, yeah? I’m gonna go check on them.”

I tell you, it took every bit of my willpower to go upstairs again—it was truly awful, like three jungles stuffed into one house. When I looked in the bathroom, would you believe it? They’d left already, didn’t say goodbye or nothing! They wrote “thanks” and some numbers in the steam on the mirror. Well, that’s not really what was there—it was some weird scribbling alphabet—but somehow I knew what it meant in English, which was really weird. I turned off the taps—thank the Lord—and opened the window to try to get some fresh air.

Michael was a bit heated over it when I told him, and even though we shouted out the door, the reporters stuck around, so that was a real pisser, but they have to go eventually, right? Especially since the aliens left and took their spacecraft-thing off the roof.

Oh, crumbs, I’ve just peeked out the window, and the garden is practically trampled. Mum is going to have kittens when she gets home.

But, yeah. So tomorrow I’m gonna go up to the chemist’s and get some lippy and stuff for my nails and head up to the shop again, see if Steven’s working. I mean, I know that Melissa said that he likes Camilla, but I think that Melissa’s just upset because she broke up with Davy again. Camilla’s a total slag, and Steven would never go for her. He’s way too great for her.