The Bex Factor Read Free Page B

trying to have a private conversation here.’
    ‘I bet you are.’
    ‘And do something about Yazz’s nappy,’ snaps Bex, handing her the burbling bundle. ‘If I had a beautiful daughter like that, I’d make sure I looked after her
properly.’
    ‘You don’t know what it’s like,’ says the girl with the baby. ‘Anyway, who’s your boyfriend?’
    ‘His name’s Matthew . . . and he’s not my boyfriend. Now, could you just get out, please?’
    The girl with the baby rolls her puffy eyes. ‘You want to watch her, Matthew, she’s evil.’
    ‘Sorry about my sister,’ says Bex, slamming the door behind her. ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure she won’t come back.’ She takes a piece of paper from under her
pillow, sits down on the edge of the bed and gives me her serial-killer smile. ‘Now about that favour. You see what it is . . .’
    Her mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. Time stands still as we size each other up, like boxers at a weigh in. I was right about her eyes – they are brown. The rest of her’s
not bad either. She looks quite pretty with her hair tied back.
    You see, when I said I don’t do girls, I didn’t mean I don’t want to. But it would be pretty embarrassing bringing anyone home with Mum the way she is. Which is probably part
of the reason I haven’t even kissed a girl, not properly, let alone . . . you know.
    It’s the only thing they ever talk about at school. The other kids are always bragging about the latest girls they’ve got off with. According to Mr Catchpole, it’s probably
just a ‘crude display of adolescent bravado’, but even Curtis went out with Demi Corcoran a few times.
    I’m pretty hot on the theory. It’s practically all we’ve done in PSHE for the last four years. (Apart from drugs and bullying, of course.) What if this is my only chance to put
it into practice?
    OK, supposing I just kiss her? I mean, it’s what she wants, isn’t it? If I don’t do something soon she’ll probably jump on me anyway. I’m kind of thinking that a
pre-emptive strike is the only way to go. So I sit down next to her and make a grab for one of her curves.

Bex

    ‘What are you playing at?’ I yell.
    ‘It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?’ he says.
    ‘Get off me, you idiot.’
    ‘What’s the matter, aren’t I doing it right?’
    ‘Look, stop it, will you or I’ll call my dad.’
    He flies off the bed, like a human cannonball. ‘But I thought . . .’
    ‘You thought what exactly?’
    This time he’s the one having trouble getting his words out. ‘I thought you . . . I thought you wanted me to . . . you know . . .’
    I’m not sure whether to laugh or smack him in the mouth. ‘Why would you think that ?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ he says, grabbing his face and hiding behind his hands. ‘You seemed pretty keen that’s all. What else was I supposed to think?’
    Now I’m sure I want to smack him in the mouth. ‘Don’t worry, I get it, OK? You took one look at where I came from and thought I must be gagging for it.’
    ‘No, I . . .’ He peeps out from between his fingertips. ‘You mean you don’t want to . . . you know?’
    ‘In your dreams, sad boy.’
    ‘Oh right,’ he says, letting out a rather insulting sigh of relief. ‘So what do you want?’
    ‘Forget it, it’s not important.’
    ‘Come on. You might as well tell me now.’
    If it wasn’t the most important thing in my life, I’d be telling the geek with the guitar where to get off. If I didn’t want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything, I
wouldn’t be handing him this piece of paper. ‘I got the music off the internet. Do you think you could play it?’
    He takes one look and smiles smugly.
    ‘On the guitar, I mean. You could play it, yeah?’
    ‘You’re really into this stuff, aren’t you?’
    ‘What, so you’re not then?’
    ‘It’s an OK song, I suppose. If you like that kind of thing.’
    ‘I don’t care what you think of it. Can you play it?’
    ‘It’s got