Tuesday 25th January

Oh ever since my dear David and Michael departed for University, so many long months ago, I've been searching, yearning, seeking out a target, desperate to fill the boy shaped void that is gaping wide within my brain, and which left empty for too long has rendered me a vapid, plastic individual, so bored with life that I have resorted to entertaining the murky depths of my own year group.

'What are you moaning about?' Of course Natasha offers little sympathy, 'you've got your fan club on demand and offering constant attention; although I wouldn't get too used to it, because I already heard Harry asking out Katie Birkenshaw this morning. So it seems that he's not solely dedicated to the pursuit of you after all.'

'Well thank goodness for that, because as I've told you so many times before, I've got absolutely no interest in Harry Styles, or any of the other boys in our class for that matter.'

Were the Gods listening to our little tiff and kindly reasoned that I have suffered long enough?

'Who's he?' I whispered.

'Erm, Luke Hemmings, obviously.' Obviously. 'Why do you want to know? Do you fancy him?'

'No, of course not!'

'Well that's a shame because I can get you a date if you want?' How could I possibly forget that Natasha can get me a date with anyone who ever existed?

'What year is he in?'

'The year above.'

'The year above, wow. Well he's got the dreamiest blonde hair I've ever seen.' And he really does. I can't stop thinking about it, tucked coyly behind his ears, and the way he leaned so nonchalantly against the window at the far side of the Hall, but most of all I can't stop thinking about the Adidas tracksuit jacket he was wearing instead of his blazer. I'm going to beg Mother to buy me the exact same one, right now, for if we are wearing the same jacket then that's it, I'm one step closer to making it, to really belonging, to being with someone as cool and gorgeous as Luke. Just imagine!

Wednesday 26th January

I've been overdosing on glee these past twenty four hours, the effects of which are evident for all to see.

'Someone's happy today,' Mother remarked annoyingly at breakfast, whilst I ate my toast giggling, 'is it a boy?'

'No! Aren't I allowed to smile anymore?' Damn her for being so perceptive, but it's irritating that she's right; my buoyant mood is of course entirely linked to who I encountered yesterday and to the revived feelings of exhilaration and anticipation which I've been bereft of for so long. Oh how wonderful it is to feel alive again.

'What are you staring at?' Sarah smelt my sickened agitation as my eyes flicked between the far door and my suddenly repugnant ham and cheese sandwiches.

'Nothing!' I pulled my straining neck back in, embarrassed at being caught so easily.

'She's looking for Luke Hemmings,' Natasha intercepted, 'she loves him.'

'She loves who?'

Whilst Natasha explained to Sarah who Luke was I became deflated with waiting, accepting that he probably wasn't going to show up today or ever again, in fact it's likely he never even existed, he was merely an apparition, representative of all the hot boys lost forever.

After so many years of frustrated clock watching, waiting at the bus stop for Michael and David to arrive, I can't bear the thought of it happening again, only this time in the Lunch Hall. But alas it seems that when it comes to good looking boys, why they seem to be controlled by some sort of radar system, a programme designed to torment and which instructs them to descend at precisely the right moment to exert maximum torture upon their victims; never quite disappearing forever and allowing us the relief of forgetting them, but timing their entrance so that they keep dangling that slither of hope, because the fact that they keep turning up, well it might just mean that they're here to see you too?

Observing Luke's appearance, my cheeks flamed and heart raced, as an uncontrollable pulse of adrenalin whooshed through my body, infiltrating even the tiniest cellular structure, causing each goose bump to stand to attention and ready to march to the sound of this joyous dream. What a drug it is! Why I might float around the room like a balloon pumped full of helium, bouncing in ecstasy against the ceiling. But my restraint, as always proved too weak, and unwilling to co-operate with such stringent regulations as the need to appear cool, I had no choice but to stare at him.

Aware that some insane object was watching him, his response boasted a confidence which could only be afforded by someone from the year above; he stared back! Damn me for being spotted so readily, what with all my years of practise, I'm supposed to be a master at the art of discreet observation. But despite such a retarded display on my part Luke continued to look back at me, making no expression except to keep his eyes transfixed. Now what do you think that was all about?

'Maybe he's got a lazy eye?' Natasha offered. Yep, that will be it.

Thursday 27th January

A terrible pattern of addiction is developing. I'm like a drug fiend desperately searching for my next hit, to feel the rush, the wave of splendour which descends upon my head each time I see him. But my behaviour is escalating and I'm beginning to worry that I need help, or at the very least some sort of intervention. For I feel sick all the time, ready to puke at a mere mouthful of sandwich, forever gnawing at the same piece of bread, never quite able to swallow it down. But why is my reaction so strong; he's only a boy for God sake? I'll tell you why Simone, because on this occasion, is it possible, that this could be real, his continued reciprocation forever hinting that maybe, just maybe, he's thinking the same as me?

Monday 1st February

Well the boy is clearly in possession of a more sensible mind than I am, and surprising the entire student body, but no-one more so than me, why he's taken the mature approach, by attempting to change the pattern of obsessive lunchtime staring. Possessing a strength which far surpasses my own he has ploughed ahead with this bold and life changing action. He only bloody well went and smiled at me! Yes that's right, I could sing it from the rooftops, "Lujke Hemmings just smiled at me". The gorgeous blonde boy hanging out in the corner smiled at me, Simone Rose! Hallelujah, there is a Lord!

But damn my cloth eared head, for I've not the simplest clue what I'm meant to do now, since a boy that I fancy never actually acknowledged me in a positive manner before. Of course even the simplest common rules of engagement would suggest that it's polite to smile back, but as ever my dumbass brain knew no etiquette, and with my facial muscles clamped rigid, I was rendered mute, a purgatory trapped ice maiden. Still my legs remained active and judged that it would be wise to shift gear, shooting me up from my seat and ejecting my out of the door like a fighter pilot undertaking an emergency exit. Why the cruelty of my own mind!

'Hey Simone, what's the hurry?' Escaping across the quad I smashed into Liam, who was grinning at me like a dizzy chimpanzee.

I needed to get away from all this craziness, to escape and gather my thoughts, alone amongst the safety of the Science block steps. Alas why is such luck never to be mine? For that other chimp was there; Harry Styles, perched on the bottom step and bouncing his football. If he dared ask me out again I swear I would grab his ball and throw it at his head.

'You got any Hubba Bubba?' He grunted, as I slumped down exhausted, 'strawberry; the best.'

Wednesday 3rd February

'Will you be joining me today?' Liam interrupted my soporific thoughts, beckoning me to take my seat at the lab station. Can't he see that I'd much prefer to loiter about the window, dreaming of an escape, to flee from the door and run free across the playground, than inflict upon myself the nervous twitch which fires each time I'm forced to converse with him?

But never mind him and his science book inclinations, for distraction greeted me in the shape of my most favourite face which was sparkling up at me, a delightful hologram, twirling and dancing and stroking me gently in to the delights of hypnosis. Holy crow it was Luke! Where had he come from? "Right, this is my chance. Smile back, you fool". Like I'm ever going to be able to undertake such a simple task, when it would be much easier to just duck out of sight and run away from the window.

'At last,' Liam grinned as I took my seat, 'So how are you doing?' How am I doing? I've just run across the classroom like a demented hunch-back, how do you think I am doing?

'Fine,' I squeaked. My strength is sapping.

Tuesday 9th February

Whilst it's certain that this tortured saga cannot continue, I fear that my constant panic stricken state is indicative that I'm not able to handle any further progress, considering that a simple smile has driven me to the edge of psychosis. Why I'm cursed to be stuck within this purgatory forever, a goldfish that has spent too long from the safety of its bowl and without sight of anyone coming to rescue it. But Luke persists with chipping away at the boundaries of my mental health, dragging me further in to this sickened state of agitation.

'Simone, get your ass over here now!' Flora Sidebottom's caustic tones boomed, halting another round of high energy staring. What could she possibly want with my company, and wait, why was she standing next to Luke? Holy crow she was with Luke - she can't possibly know him, right? Eww, this isn't a good indicator of his standards.

'Oi Swot Face, are you listening to me, I said come here now!'

Staring death in the face, I waited for my life's montage to flash in front of me, before the guillotine struck down up on my head, spurting my embarrassed blood about the Hall.

'Go on then!' Natasha pushed me out in to the wilderness. Wait a minute; let me gather myself, my cool, my hair, is it curling just right? But Flora was grabbing my elbow, dragging me up to the spotlight of the pulpit, to the place where Luke was standing, leaning against the window and talking with two boys and a girl, all from the year above.

'So our Luke wants to know if you'll meet him after school tonight?' Our Luke? Please dear Lord don't let them be related.

'So what's your answer Swot Face? Meet him outside the Offie at seven, right?'

'What was that all about?' Natasha panted as I was sent back to where I had come from.

'Erm, I think Luke Hemmings just asked me out. Or at least Flora did. For him I mean, not her.'

'And so what did you say? Please tell me you said yes?'

'Sort of.'

Good gracious don't let it be so, but alas it was coming, there was no holding it back. My copious reserves of neuroses, for so long restrained by the barrier that had struggled to contain them, now spewed over the edge of my self control.

'What am I going to do?' I whimpered.

'What do you mean, what are you going to do? Just turn up and have a good time. He obviously likes you.'

'He likes me?'

'Yes he likes you.' Since when has Natasha been so rational?

'But if he likes me then do you know what that means?'

'Erm, it means that you can get a life and stop following me around?'

'No, it means that he might want to have sex with me, dummy! I mean Luke Hemmings is totally gorgeous, but we've not even so much as spoken to each other, plus my parents are home, so where could we possibly do it? And well, I'm just not ready to have sex with a real boy. What would I do? What would I say? But if I don't do it now then everyone will know that I'm a virgin, but not just an ordinary virgin, a terrified virgin. I've got to get out of this. Oh Natasha, how am I ever going to get out of it? Okay, it's simple, I just don't show up. That's right, why put myself through this entire trauma when he couldn't even be bothered to ask me himself. But if I don't show up then I'll have missed my one chance with Luke Hemmings, who let's not forget is holy smoking deliciously divine. I've got to go, otherwise I'll regret it for the rest of my life, and I'll end up an old lady crying alone in to a pillow of remorse. I'm going to do it. I'm going to be brave.'

Later

Never again shall I be able to show my face at school, for the shame I've subjected myself to is revolting. I'm going to have to transfer to St. Leonard's for sure; otherwise I'll have to live everyday looking at the plaque they've erected in my honour; "Smelliest turd the school has ever produced", and all because of this whole Luke debacle. Oh why can't I just act like a normal human being for once?

The walk to the shop was monstrous. Still wrestling with my decision, wanting nothing more than to just turn around and run home to watch Eastenders, I fought on determined to see through the arrangement. I clung to lamp-posts and gates for stability, all the time taking deep breaths to suppress the rising vomit. Why must I feel so sick all the time? If nothing else this obsession is keeping me thin.

There he was, Luke, walking up the hill, on his way to meet me, little SimoneRose. But there was no hope of saving me for I'd already set sail on the local loony boat, and unable to contain my panic any longer; my mouth watered and the sick came out.

Unaware of my unexpected and unfathomable decline, Luke continued with his swagger dog approach, but his coolness soon turned to dismay, as I covered my mouth and ran. Not towards him, with the open arms and full of joy as I had for so long imagined, but in the opposite direction, as far away from him as I could get. Whoever heard of a girl running away from the boy of her dreams before? And as I ran, the vomit spread across my face and in to my hair, and I cannot lie, I did not care, for all I felt was relief. If only I could escape my own mind so easily.

Now totally exhausted and humiliated by the nothingness that has resulted from this pathetic flirtation, I have resolved to find a more calming focus in my life. The sensible option, for both the safety of me and the male population, would be to register my name at the convent or take up the arts or something of the like. Mother would be so proud if I were to have a cultural interest such as European cinema or art history. But Daddy's words echo in my mind, that "fortitude is the key to success", and so I will not to give up on my pursuit of a connection with a like-minded male so easily. There has to be someone out there who I can lust after but who doesn't cause me to puke all over them each time I see them?

If nothing this experience with Luke has raised the now thorny issue of having sex for the first time. Maybe I should just face my fears and do it already, so that I can move on with my life, like everyone else? But if I'm to make such an idea a reality then, alas, the time is nigh to get real, and start the selection process for a more attainable target than an emotionally retarded boy from a more senior year.