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Okay, so I'm writing this stupid 'feelings journal', and it's only because I'll get an F in English this year if I don't, and I really can't afford that (not with my other grades, that is). Some of it is made up of jottings I did earlier, but some entries, like this one, are'well'entries (Mind-Father says 'dud').

So yesterday, I skipped fifth period (which was textiles, and I doubt I'll ever need to make a 'nifty' pin cushion soon), and headed off to the shopping arcade. I'd changed into my 'Oh My Goth' disguise; my eyes are smothered in kohl eye-shadow and eye-liner, and something that only half-resembles lipstick is lathered upon my lips. I also wear my three quarter length purple top under my plaid, short-sleeved shirt. My lower half is primarily covered by my jet black pencil skirt, topped of with fishnets, biker boots and wristbands. Oh. My. Goth.

So (like I said), I ventured off to the closest shopping centre, which was only a three minute walk from school. I climbed over a fence and under a hedge so I didn't get spotted, although I could have sworn that some year seven boys were staring at me through a window. Or that could just have been me being paranoid ' either way's good for me.

On arrival, I headed in a beeline for the music store, but some guy was giving me 'the look', so I turned my beeline back round again. It took me three seconds to realise that Some Guy was actually Amber's older brother, Allister. I had had a crush on him a few years ago, and whenever he would saunter into the room, my face would go into Super Red Blush Mode (also known to Mind-Father as S.R.B.M.). It seemed that, in the month and a half it had been since I saw him last, Ally (he has a nickname!) had grown his hair down to his shoulders, and that he'd started straightening it; his usual bush of curls was gone ' no wonder I didn't recognise him as first.

'Monday?' Allister pondered out loud as I shuffled away. 'What have you done to your'everything?'

I dragged him closer to my face, my shifty eyes making sure that his boss wasn't anywhere near. 'It's a disguise, monkey brains,' I barely whispered in Ally's ear. 'I skipped school, and I can't let anyone know.'

'Won't your teacher know? And why do you, of all people, even care?' he said, pulling himself back from my hold. He did pose a good point though; I'd skipped quite a few classes before, and I hadn't worn a disguise then.

'I care because you can't possibly get into Oxford (or Cambridge, for that matter), if you go skipping year nine textiles! What if they want you to sew a 'really nifty' pin cushion?' The words came out of my mouth with more than a hint of sarcasm. 'And'I hadn't thought about a register ' they're stupid.' Allister shot me a cheesy grin and led me into the store.

'Still liking your indie music, Monday?' Ally was sorting through some stock CDs, looking up every once in a while. I was happily sitting on the counter, swinging my legs and reading a music magazine I'd found in Ally's bag.

'Yeah, why not?' was my reply. Allister smiled another one of his cheesy grins again (this time to himself), and put something on my lap. It was a bundle of CDs by my favourite artists, some of them weren't even meant to out now. I glanced down at him with a puzzled look on my face. I opened my mouth to speak, but '

"It's okay, Monday. The boss won't mind ' as long as he doesn't find out, that is,' Ally answered before I could even ask the question. 'I'll just scan it and put my gum in the till instead of money.' And so he did.