• I glanced at my watch, and hastily finished my chocolate bar. I needed to finish my homework soon, so I could have a decent nights sleep, no matter how maddeningly boring french homework was that night. It wasn't hard; it was the complete reverse. I had already learnt the passe compose until it was elude when it came to being interesting. The tea would keep me awake long enough to not dribble and snore over it, though. I picked up my slightly battered red exercise book from my bedroom floor.

    Qu'est-ce que tu as fait le weekend dernier? (What did you do last weekend?)

    Well, the honest answer should not be written down, even in the language of love. I blushed when I thought of what he said to me, and not to mention did. Wow.

    Oops. Getting off subject. Right, homework. I would have to write about this weekend, for I was handing this in tomorrow.

    J'ai fait du cyclisme avec mon ami Paul, et nous nous sommes bien amuses! on a recontre avec ses amis...(I went cycling with my friend Paul, and we had a great time! We met up with his friends...)

    I jumped suddenly, my hand flying across the paper, making a really funny shape across it. Let's say it was a very squashed rainbow with a small hat. I looked out of the window, to see if anyone was there, and I saw what looked like the American Bigfoot running on all fours across the front garden with a dinner service up his bottom...until I realised it was my Dad's car (a traditional volvo if you wanted to know. Snigger), and someone was driving it like they wanted to get the tyres off or something. My Dad often forgets to steer, so that couldn't be him.

    I yanked my window open, curious. Yes, I know he could be a communist chav screwing up my lawn, or a pervert with an organism, yet I was simply curious. However, when I leaned out, the volvo was in its normal place, and the lawn was stripy with grass mowing, not tyre tracks. I shook my head, more annoyed that I missed the car screwing than the fact I could be losing my mind.

    ...et nous avons jouons un jeux de foot, et, bien sur, j'ai perdie, car j'y suis la personne seulement en mon equipe. Cependant, plus tarde, Paul et moi sont alles au cinema, pour regarder "Deja Vu"...(and we played football, et, of course, I lost, because I was the only person on my team. However, later, Paul and I went to the cinema to see "Deja Vu"...)

    Again, I jumped (this is so cliche), for I swear my chair collapsed with me on it. Yet when it looked down, I was still on it.

    Frowning, I smoothed my hair down. OK, perhaps I am going mad after all. Oh well. At least I feel normal.

    ...C'etait tres cool. La film etait assez bien aussi. Puis, nous sommes alles chez lui, et il m'a donne du chocolat chic, d'Afrique, bien sur..." (It was very cool. The film was quite good too. Then, we went to his house, and he gave me some posh chocolate, from Africa, of course...)

    Christ. My head was spinning. My lower body burned, yet my upper body was frozen. I wobbled to the bathroom, unconsiously still holding the chocolate wrapper. Yet as I was about to do my business, I distinctly saw a message inside the wrapper, a piece of paper that must've come out of the wrapper. Despite feeling unsteady, I read and laughed,

    "If you can read this, it wasn't a laxative."

    Oh don't worry Paul...love is a drug indeed.