CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The Maisie Diaries
So after talking to Fergie, I’m now ABSOLUTELY SURE that Reuben did know I was asking him out, even though he pretended not to.
So, dear diary, after all the worry and the what-if-Reuben-says-yes feelings that were making me all fizzy inside with hope and excitement, I’ve now landed flat on my face.
Getting up again is going to be hard. But it serves me right for thinking a boy like Reuben would even look at someone (me) who let’s face it is only average in the looks department (and that’s on a really good day when my hair is doing what it’s supposed to).
Every time I think of facing Reuben again at rehearsals, I start sweating and I’ve nearly run out of anti-p!
I’ve decided to tell Mrs Proctor that my GP thinks I’m dangerously stressed and should avoid all exercise and dancing (high blood pressure), and that I should definitely NOT be performing in shows on stage OF ANY KIND, because the stress could actually kill me.
I don’t think she’d believe that, though. Mrs Proctor isn’t stupid.
I’ll probably just go along anyway and ignore the knobhead.