It's my life...

Yeah, I did get to college on the Monday, but Marz is still not better and I hated leaving her. Not that I can ever stop her drinking if she’s a mind to do it, but at least I can shop and cook her decent stuff and refuse to buy the vodka now she can’t get out. I came back that first day hoping not to bump into crazy Calla and wondering what the hell I’d find at home. I wrote to Danny too, then tore the letter up and threw it in the bin, all this pink confetti like I was getting married or something. Ha. I’m never going to get married. I asked Marz who my dad was once and d’you know what she said? She said she hadn’t the foggiest idea. I looked in the mirror then. I’m fair-skinned with pale hair and eyelashes, grey eyes, tho sometimes they seem blue. Maybe my dad was Scandinavian, I said, looking hard, thinking maybe I could crack her wide, get her to spill. Has she ever loved anyone? Who the hell knows.

‘Scandinavian?’ she said. ‘Maybe, but there were so many coming off the boats round about that time, and I was always one for the seamen, me.’ Then she laughs like a hyena and says, ‘Seamen, get it?’ and I feel sick again. I used to feel sick a lot back then, still do sometimes. And I saw myself in a shop window today and didn’t know who it was at first. Gave me a right shock. It wasn’t the black hair, which is coming up pale at the roots – shall I fix that? – or the chucking of the pink gear, although I can’t afford to go out and buy new. Lucky I work at Old Stuff cos Jo’s given me loads that she was going to sling out. I’m a bit goth now – all black like Danny, tho I don’t go for the weird make-up (not that Danny wears make-up, but hey, you know what I mean). No, it was the shape of me – I must’ve put on at least seven pounds. So it’s no chips tonight and just water to drink instead of chocolate.

I keep thinking of Andy, wanting to go and see him. Hate myself for that. I have to try to be alone and strong and other people always complicate things. Some of the girls at college wanted me to go shopping after lectures today, but I’m not getting into girly secrets and stuff. Before you know what’s happening they tell you theirs and you’re suddenly spilling and then you might as well be standing bloody naked in the High Street, and at seven pounds too fat I couldn’t cope. Joke. Ha ha.