The Boy IN My Phone

Psychotic Pets Text-gate

Lisa

It was tough having two men in your life, Lisa decided. Even tougher when neither man actually knew they were in your life and one of them was probably barely even aware of your existence.

But all that could be about to change as she was spending eight days in Cornwall with both of 'her men'... oh, and two rugby teams and a batch of teachers and supporty-type staff.

The teachers included Mr Gander; one of 'her men'. Her dreamy biology teacher was a living lesson in evolutionary hotness; talk about survival of the fittest!

She had saved herself for 'Goosy' (strange nickname but it seemed to suit him) for at least three months, fantasising about driving around with him in his overly-polished retro sports car. She pictured herself playfully throwing away the ridiculous suede hat he insisted on wearing when he drove.

Of course, it had been frustrating – the whole teacher-pupil taboo thing – but she was only two years from her eighteenth birthday; Goosy was worth waiting for, she'd thought. She didn't mind admitting that some of her fantasies had been getting kind'a fruity, though. She shuddered as the one featuring tight chain-mail and black forest gateau came back to her in a flood of tangled stickiness. Too-oo much?

It was perhaps timely then, that in January, Calen transferred into their school. Unlike Goosy, Calen was her age and immediately available – only nothing in Lisa's life was that easy. For one thing, they barely shared any classes. For another, she wasn't entirely sure he'd even noticed her despite her pushing all her best assets forward (within the absurd limitations imposed by the school uniform, which had probs been designed by 18th century nuns on a remote Scottish isle, where gannet-skin parkas were the last word in style). Thirdly, Calen's arrival had hardly gone unnoticed in Kingsmead School; there was no shortage of competition. Lisa had just been about to return her unspoken, illicit affections to their original Goosy settings when Calen started messaging her. That was a week ago...

'He won't be there,' warned Sharl (wrongly as it turned out).

'Oops I think the hem of your jealousy may be showing, Sharlene,' Lisa responded, 'just 'cos you fancy him.'

'Everyone fancies Calen, girl,' said the friend Lisa would be sharing a room with for the duration of the Cornish rugby tour, 'but he's only got eyes for Isabel.'

Fortunately for Lisa and unfortunately for Calen and every other red-bloodied Kingsmead schoolboy drooling over the blonde fifth-year with a model body and queen-bee status, Isabel only had eyes for Isabel too.

Then the texts came.

The texts Calen had started sending Lisa appeared after one of the regular verbal jousting sessions Lisa was prone to having with Isabel. This spat followed Lisa slipping over on the badminton court in P.E. at the end of term.

'Did you take a tumble out there, Wenge,' cooed Isabel as Lisa returned to the side-lines. 'Wenge' was Isabel's new nickname for Lisa, apparently inspired by a set of bathroom cabinets of indeterminate brown colour that her parents had recently purchased. Lisa felt Isabel was being en-suite-ist but wasn't going to let it get to her. 'Only, I felt a tremor.'

A mini swarm of Isabel's acolytes snickered over-enthusiastically.

'Yes, I did,' admitted Lisa rubbing her bountiful hip. 'You know the last time I tumbled was at Krakatoa, and,' she added, 'that caused an eruption to rival your last bout of acne.'

She wasn't sure she'd actually won that verbal exchange, but she had got a bigger and more genuine laugh than her adversary and Lisa had noticed a nearby Calen joining in, which added to Isabel's annoyance.

The texts had started a couple of days later after school broke up with Calen writing how much he'd enjoyed her witty remark.

He must have been keen she reckoned, keen enough to ask around Lisa's friends to get her number and he invited her onto a messaging service. The conversations had been innocent enough at first, chatting about school-mates, the forthcoming rugger trip – Calen was a powerful centre – and the psychotic pets each of them had owned. Then they had started to get a bit flirtier and more suggestive (Lisa couldn't remember who had started that). So far, she had steered clear of texting about medieval armour and creamy chocolatey dessert classics, but she felt that may be just around the corner of the curve they were on.

And here, in Cornwall, in the last hour, she had received a text that read, 'Coffee in the campus shop cafe? My treat, it'll be like our first date - C.'

Unable to contain herself, Lisa had messaged back '30 mins' and confided in Sharl, who, untypically, had done her best to pour cold water on Lisa's enthusiasm.

Sharl was usually only too happy to encourage Lisa to up the number of hunky boys in her life. Sharl was widely imagined to be the most sexually accomplished girl in the school – and that included a coterie of pretty sleazy sixth-formers. She had claimed the role of hooker in the girls' rugby team on the grounds that she was best qualified, and she gave Tinder for Dummies sessions to a select few on Tuesday break every week.

'Calen's undoubtedly the hottest and most widely fantasised-over guy at school,' Sharl said. 'Plenty of girls have tried to worm in there but he's not date-hardened.'

'I'm good with a little innocence,' said Lisa. 'Somewhere in that adolescent hormonal goulash boys call a brain he's convinced himself that if he doesn't make-out with other girls, Isabel will eventually notice and swoon in his direction. It's sweet.'

Sharl made a face. 'That don't make him the sharpest éclair in the bakery, but he's stuck with that strategy for six months; I can't see him changing now.'

'He hasn't said – well texted - as much,' Lisa studiously applied generous sweeps of mascara, 'but I think he's finally wised up to the fact that only the hottest boy band lead singer will ever be good enough for Izzy, so he's decided to hunt out a girl who's not so up herself, not to mention a bloody good laugh.'

'He looked around, saw lovely witty Lisa, and suddenly...' Sharl threw herself onto her bed, 'shazam! OK you gotta go, girl. I expect a full report on your return.'