Read Pride and Premiership Online
Authors: Michelle Gayle
For Isaiah and Tony
This is the diary of Remy Louise Bennet
Read it (Mum) and I’ll never record
Corrie or EastEnders for you again!
Remy + Leonardo DiCaprio 4ever!
Shia La“Buff”
– Phwoar!!
Team Edward
Oh–hhh M–mmm G–gggg. I’ve just snogged a Premiership footballer! His name’s Robbie Wilkins and he plays for Netherfield Park Rangers. OK, it’s not a massive club like Man United, or Chelsea, which Gary (the one Malibu got off with) happens to play for. But Robbie’s still a good catch. Malibu says that players at smaller clubs get about £20,000 a week. TWENTY GRAND!! That’s more than I’ll make in a year manicuring and waxing people at Kara’s.
Robbie is twenty-one and blonde, with highlights – eugh! (Highlights will have to go.) But apart from his hair (and slightly big nose), he’s buff beyond belief.
He’s proper charming, too. He told me I look like a young Julia Roberts.
Although, to be honest, I don’t think he’d have noticed me if it hadn’t been for Malibu’s plan. That girl is so clued up. She went to the Lounge four times just to do her research and has seen six different Premiership players there! Apparently they usually sit in the VIP area in the back of the club and they’re always surrounded by girls who act like lap dancers in front of them, or reach over to pass them their phone number.
“If they get lucky, some girls even leave with a player or two,” said Malibu. “But we’re not aiming for that.”
“Huh?” I went, confused.
“No,” she said firmly. “The same players come back the next week, blank the girls who were all over them last time and move on to a fresh set. We’re real WAG material, Remy. Not bloody wannabes.”
Yeah, right
, I thought. I mean, Malibu is WAG material all day long – blonde, skinny, big boobs (lucky cow) – but ME? I didn’t think I’d stand a chance, but my genius sister had it all worked out.
Her carefully calculated strategy was for us to separate ourselves from the WAG wannabes as soon as we got there.
“They’re so–oo easy,” she said, “and boys, especially footballers, are all about the chase.” (See what I mean about being clued up?)
When we arrived there was a massive line of people waiting to get in, and when we finally got up to the door, the bouncer double-, triple-checked my fake ID. I thought he was going to turn me away, so I threw him a massive smile and made my eyes say, “Purle–eeeease.”
“Go on then,” he said.
Sucka!
The Lounge is like nowhere I’ve ever been before. Everything about it says: money.
It also happened to be full of good-looking girls aiming to pull themselves a footballer. And with me in my white jeans and Primarni sparkly top, and Malibu in her denim jumpsuit, we looked like we were going skiing compared with those WAG wannabes. They were half bloody naked!
The boys there weren’t exactly shy either. I got my first chat-up line within ten minutes: “Get your coat – we’re going home,” he said.
“We’re not interested!” Malibu snapped before I could say a word.
The WAG wannabes weren’t interested either. They were turning boys away big time, waiting for the real deal – and then … Robbie and Gary stepped through the door. I knew they were footballers straight away. I’d like to say it was because I’d done my research (like Malibu) or because they were dressed immaculately (which they were) and walked with a swagger (which they did). But, to be honest, the only reason I knew they were footballers was because those WAG wannabes swarmed round them like bees to a jar of honey.
Robbie and Gary fought their way through the heaving breasts and plonked themselves down in the VIP area. Then Malibu looked at me, gave me a wink, and we strutted straight past them without (and this was important) even glancing their way, and hit the dance floor. This worked out perfectly for me because Malibu may be the blonde, prettier and skinnier one, with those boobs, of course (which just isn’t fair), but she can’t dance to save her life! When “Crazy in Love” started, she looked like she was having a fit, while I did the dance that Beyoncé does in the video – “Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh…” And that’s when Robbie tapped my shoulder and asked me to go outside with him for some “fresh air”.
We talked about the usual at first – what’s your name, age, etc. And when I told him it was my half-birthday tomorrow, he said it was a cool thing to celebrate.
“Thanks,” I replied.
“Pleasure,” he said, then he threw me a look that made my stomach do a double somersault.
I knew what was coming next and couldn’t wait – but also remembered what Malibu had said about how if a girl holds out, a footballer will want her more because they love to win. So (gutted) I told him I was only up for kissing.
“That’s new.” He smiled. And then we got STUCK IN!
His kisses were a bit sloppy, to be honest, but I put that down to him having had a few drinks. Anyway, who cares? When our lips unlocked, we exchanged numbers and he said he was dying to see me again. Just like Malibu predicted.
She did a right number on Gary, too. When Robbie walked me back inside, we couldn’t find them for ages. So I decided to check whether she was in the loo and spotted her and Gary propped up against the wall beside the fire exit – snogging!!
“Your sister,” Gary said when he realized I was gawping at them, “is the most stunning girl I’ve ever met.”
Malibu’s proper. She says it’s a big sister’s job to educate. And she’s put all her years of reading every WAG interview ever to good use by making the WAG Charter. It’s a five-point plan that Malibu reckons will get us a footballer quicker than we can say Frank Lampard. And it seems to be working. Yay!
I’m going to write it down so that in weak moments I can look at it and think of the big picture, because I’d love to marry Robbie. So I can jack in my job – and shop FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!!
THE WAG CHARTER
AT FIRST, PRETEND YOU DON’T
KNOW HE’S A FOOTBALLER.
STICK TO KISSING ON THE FIRST DATE.
DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU DRUNK,
OR HE WON’T TRUST YOU WHEN HE’S
AWAY ON A PRE-SEASON TOUR.
WAIT EIGHT WEEKS TO HIT FOURTH BASE.
(FOOTBALLERS MARRY “GOOD” GIRLS
THEY CAN TAKE HOME TO THEIR MUMS.)
NEVER DISPUTE A THING HIS MUM SAYS.
(THEY WORSHIP THEIR MUMS.)