Fifteen Love Read Online Free PDF

checking herself out from every conceivable angle, doing every conceivable thing with her bum. After a long discussion, she decides to ‘maybe not buy them’, if she can ever get them off again.
    Between the two of them, I swear, Vanessa and Renata have tried every diet on the planet: the low-carb diet, the low-fat diet, the low-joule diet, the liver-cleansing diet, the snack diet, the no-snack diet, the all-greens diet, the all-yellows diet. Vanessa went vegetarian for a month. She even tried going macrobiotic for an hour, but all that chewing made her jaws cramp. These days Vanessa prefers what she calls the ‘supermodel’s diet’: she eats what she likes, then she goes to the toilet and sticks her fingers down her throat.
    â€˜It feels really good,’ she says. ‘Like cheating and getting away with it.’
    If you ask me, it’s disgusting. In fact, the best advice I ever heard for losing weight is: eat less. There are fewer calories in a single scoop of extra-creamy ice-cream than a bucket of low-fat goo.
    Vanessa is on the floor again now, keeping her bum in the air while Renata and I take hold of one leg each, trying to get the jeans off. We’re rolling around laughing when suddenly a giant shadow looms in the doorway. It’s the dragon lady – the change-room attendant – and she is not smiling.
    â€˜Can I help you girls?’ she asks, frowning severely.
    â€˜They’re stealing my pants!’ shrieks Vanessa.
    WILL
    There’s only one place to get your hair cut and that’s Mondo for Men. Two guys work there, Matteo and Ricki. Matteo is an artist – he does exactly what you say. Ricki is a madman – a danger to society.
    Most guys won’t admit it, but getting a haircut can be a bit tense. You have to trust the guy to do what you say, so you have to be certain to say what you want. It has to sound casual and unimportant, but clear and unambiguous: Just a trim, thanks. I practise it going to sleep, then in the shower, over breakfast and, finally, on the bus. Just a trim, thanks . . . Just a trim, thanks . . . It’s best to be prepared.
    I enter Mondo for Men and proceed to the plush leather couch with the men’s magazines on the tinted glass coffee table. I wait my turn, watching Matteo and Ricki, trying to predict who I’ll get. Ricki is faster than Matteo. Matteo is a perfectionist, whereas Ricki is more like a shearer, racing against the clock. He’ll take the guy before me, meaning I will get Matt. Not a problem. Just a trim, thanks.
    I open a magazine and start flipping through the pages. There’s a helpful article about how to deal with stress. You have to block out what’s going on around you, it says. You have to learn to focus on the task at hand . . .
    â€˜Next?’
    With my head in the magazine, I hear the voice of doom above me. Ricki has already finished, and I’m next in line. I could let someone go ahead of me and say I’m waiting for Matt. I could get up and run from the room. But Ricki has already dusted the seat and is motioning for me to sit down.
    â€˜How you doin’, all right?’
    â€˜Just a trim, thanks.’
    Nervously, I climb into the chair. Ricki clips a smock around my neck and tries to choke me with paper towels. He is too busy talking to Matteo to notice how uncomfortable I am: ‘She was comin’ on strong, but she was keepin’ her distance. She was hot, but she was cool, know what I’m sayin’?’
    I sit watching helplessly as Ricki goes to work. He starts with his scissors and a fine-toothed comb that he digs into my scalp. The scissors snip around my head at lightning speed. I’m sure he’ll nip off a piece of my ear, but I’m more worried about my hair.
    To calm my nerves, I start whispering, ‘Just a trim, thanks . . . Just a trim, thanks.’
    Good news. Ricki has put away the scissors and picked up the electric shears. My