The Debt & the Doormat Read Online Free PDF Page B

his long hairy legs dangling over the edge. 
    ‘Yeah cool,’ he grunts barely looking up. 
    Great.  He’s going to ruin my evening. 
    ‘Super-duper,’ she beams.  ‘We’ll leave at about 8, ok?’
    ‘Yeah sure,’ I say, exhausted at the thought of it.  God, I wish I could just stay in and watch a DVD.  I barely feel like I’ve had any sleep at all.  I pull out my phone and text Jazz as I walk back to the bedroom.
    ‘Going out as you wish.  Remember to stay in and watch a film.  There’s food in the fridge.  Do not get a take-away!  Even if you think you can sweet talk Raj for a freebie!  Do not spend money!xxx’
    I go into the room and open her wardrobe.  What on earth am I going to wear?  As if reading my thoughts I get a text back from her.
    ‘Great – wear my yellow one-shoulder dress with the pink shoes.  I will be miss boring tonight.  But remember you have to be naughty!  Flirt, laugh and get drunk!  Xxx’
    Responsible as ever I see. 
    *                            *                            *
     
     
    When the taxi pulls ups I look outside the window at the queue of young girls in sequins, all seeming desperate to get into what looks like the door of a grotty garage.  I take a deep breath to try and calm the butterflies in my stomach.  It’s been ages since I’ve been on a proper big night out and I’m not sure I’ll fit in.  I mean, what if everything is different now?  What if there’s a whole new ritual and it doesn’t involve dancing around like a twat? 
    Plus, it doesn’t help that I’m going out with three models.  I haven’t actually found out what they really do – they could be important accountants for all I know – but for now, in my head, they are models.  I’m not used to hanging around with such gorgeous people.  I mean Jazz, of course, is gorgeous, but even she has slight imperfections, like her almost invisible upper lip and scar above her left eyebrow from trying to pierce it herself.  But these people, they’re like aliens.  It makes me feel sick every time I look at them.  Especially when I compare it to my own average complexion in the taxi window.  I feel such an ugly duckling.  Especially with half a can of dry shampoo in my hair.
    ‘Come on,’ Izzy sings.  She smiles widely and takes my hand to help me out of the taxi. 
    I’m glad for the help.  These ridiculous shoes that Jazz has made me wear make me feel like I’m wearing stilts.  Plus, I’m wearing so much make-up I could possibly enrol in the circus as Bobo the Clown.  Note to self: must Google how to apply eye shadow.  Or stop attempting. 
    Jazz’s yellow dress is so florescent I could pass as a street cleaner on first glance.  And it barely covers my arse.  Great – a mix between a street cleaner and a high end prostitute.  I was seriously considering changing but then Izzy bounded in telling me the taxi was outside. 
    Izzy has on a leopard print boob tube dress which makes her look like Gisele, but has teamed it with casual converses.  She looks so cute and sexy at the same time it makes me sick.  If I tried to wear that outfit I’d look like a stuffed sausage.
    Grace has on a stunning black bondage dress.  It's basically ripped and completely see-through everywhere, apart from a tiny patch by her vagina, ass and her boobs.  She can't be wearing any underwear.  It shows off how slim her tiny waist is and her long brown legs seem to go on forever.   Her hair is tied into a pony with a backcombed quiff at the front.  Her eyeliner is heavily applied, done to make her eyes feline like a cat.  She’s basically dressed as intimidating as her personality. 
    Ryan on the other hand is wearing a pair of dark denim jeans and a v necked black t-shirt.  The only effort it seems he’s made is to have a shower.  This guy clearly thinks he’s too cool for school.  What a knob. 
    We get straight in, avoiding