Tuesday, 1st March. Martha Bradshaw's Academy for Girls. English class.
1. Iron school uniform
2. Clean out whatever is under Bridget's bed
3. Write to mother
4. Start healthy diet plan
5. Remove chocolate bars from under pillow
6. Find fave lip gloss
7. Lose virginity to Adam
I can explain.
Adam Kepperton, my boyfriend of, well, two weeks, is back from his small trip to his parent's house. Can you believe he's actually staying here permanently? Mrs Bradshaw actually got him a job here! Oh, it's perfect for us! Not that it's anything grand, I mean, he's only a cleaner and all, but still...big things come from small things, right? Or dirty and unclean things, in Adam's case...but whatever.
He turned up yesterday and we straight away got into chatting-mode. After dinner, we had the chance to discuss more relevant topics, such as-
; 'Die Hard' or 'Terminator'?
; Is Mrs Bradshaw's husband imaginary?
and finally ;
It's not like I didn't expect it. We're both old enough. But admittedly, I was a little taken aback when Adam mentioned that he was looking forward to it with me. He didn't actually specify when, so that sort of helped, but I know he's eager. If the condoms under his work-desk are anything to show for it.
And, yes! Okay! So I might've sneaked around the staff-room for a while! Remember, I'm his girlfriend! I'm perfectly entitled to!
Anyway, I told him when I'm ready, we'll "Do It", and he was fine with it. It just feels so weird. Three weeks ago and I would've gladly jumped him any chance I got. Now that we're together, well, it doesn't seem right, now that it's allowed...
Which just proves I am an EXCUSE of a being, but oh well.
I haven't even mentioned said impending disaster, ie. sex with Adam, to Bridget. I know she's a little suspicious. But I keep leaving it. I'll tell her soon, of course, but I'm still kind of coming to terms with it myself. The last thing I want is for my best friend to be worrying about me. Which she's already doing, anyway, since Adam is STILL a favourite amongst all the girls here. I suppose it's the hormones we've built up.
Ah, well, must be off. Homework is getting out of hand. Really.
xoxo. Mrs Nina Kepperton.