The Manifesto on How to be Interesting Read Online Free PDF

all. But then Mr Fellows sat next to them and opened up his suit to reveal a hidden hip flask of whisky.
    â€œYou might as well have some,” he’d said, passing them the bottle under the table. “It’s the only chance you’ve got of having any fun. Plus…” He leaned over to Bree. “You’re not my pupil any more, are you?”
    A couple of swigs of whisky later, and the three of them were dancing badly at the edge of the dance floor.
    â€œThis is great,” Bree called over the music. “I’m leaving this place and never coming back. I’m free to do whatever I want.” At which point she launched into some Irish dancing.
    â€œFreak,” she heard Gemma, Jassmine’s number one crony, yell across the dance floor. Eight times louder than the music.
    Mr Fellows clenched his fists and moved as if to go over but Bree stopped him, shaking her head. She didn’t care. She was leaving. For ever. It would all be a bad memory soon.
    Holdo went to pee and Mr Fellows leaned in, looking a bit sorry for her. Or maybe she’d imagined it. She hoped she had.
    â€œDo you want to get some air?”
    She nodded and they both stumbled out onto the gravel driveway of the posh golf clubhouse.
    â€œI shouldn’t really be seen hanging out with just you,” he said, smiling. “You’re my student.”
    Bree walked round the side of the clubhouse and Mr Fellows followed until they were out of view.
    â€œI’m not your student any more, remember?” she teased. Was she flirting? Was this flirting? Did she even know how to flirt?
    â€œDon’t remind me.”
    The sun had begun to set in the summer sky and the golf course around them glowed pink. It was a scene in which romance could happen.
    â€œI’ll miss you, sir.”
    She wasn’t sure why she said it. Probably the whisky. But it was true. She felt a sudden rush of loss gush through her at the thought of not seeing him every day.
    He waved his hand away. “Nah. You’ll be too busy having fun with all those poor people.”
    She laughed. “It’s still a good school. It’s just free, that’s all.”
    He laughed too. “I know. I think you’re making the right decision. Queen’s Hall doesn’t really fit you, does it?”
    She shook her head, sadly. “No.”
    Then he was clasping her hand.
    â€œIt’s not your fault, Bree,” he said, his heartbeat pulsing through their entwined fingers. “You’re different, that’s all. And I know it feels like it’s you, but it’s really not. You’re a special person and you deserve happiness. Just because you don’t fit in with all the other millionaires’ offspring doesn’t make you the problem. It’s another world out there and it will suit you better. I’m just going to miss you, that’s all. Who’s going to run the creative-writing group with me now?”
    â€œI’m sure you’ll find another social outcast,” Bree said.
    â€œYou’re not a social outcast. You’re my favourite student. I’m allowed to say that now you’re leaving, aren’t I?”
    She didn’t think he was allowed to say or do anything he had said or done that night. But that was the thing about Mr Fellows. He didn’t fit into Queen’s Hall either. They were like two sore thumbs, being luminous together on a perfectly manicured pair of hands.
    She looked at his hand, still holding hers. “You’re my favourite teacher. My favourite person probably…”
    They both looked at their interlocking fingers and life paused for a moment. Until they heard a group laughing round the corner and the spell was broken.
    â€œI guess we’d better go back inside,” Bree said reluctantly. “Holdo will be out of the loo by now.”
    They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them making the move to leave. And