All Evie wants is to be normal. And now that she’s almost off her meds and at a new college where no one knows her as the-girl-who-went-nuts, there’s only one thing left to tick off her list…
But relationships can mess with anyone’s head – something Evie’s new friends Amber and Lottie know only too well. The trouble is, if Evie won’t tell them her secrets, how can they stop her making a huge mistake?
Praise for Holly Bourne
“The banter and bitchiness is UTTERLY ADDICTIVE.” Non Pratt, author of TROUBLE
“Bourne is the writer I’ve been waiting for.” Escape into Words
“So very readable.” The Bookseller
“Bourne is a prodigiously talented author who has the gift of making fiction seem real.” Lancashire Evening Post
“[The Manifesto on How to be Interesting is] probably the best YA novel I’ve ever read, and that’s a strong statement to make.” Emma Blackery, Youtuber
“Full of wisdom, heartache, and honesty, The Manifesto on How to be Interesting tops John Green in my book.” Never Judge a Book by Its Cover
To Mum and Dad (again), for making me strong
Contents
About this book
Praise for Holly Bourne
Dedication
Recovery Diary
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Recovery Diary
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Recovery Diary
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Recovery Diary
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Recovery Diary
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Recovery Diary
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Recovery Diary
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Epilogue
Exclusive preview of How Hard Can Love Be? by Holly Bourne
About Holly Bourne
Q&A with Holly Bourne
Am I Normal Yet? online
Read it. Love it. Share it.
Acknowledgements
The Manifesto on How to Be Interesting by Holly Bourne
Soulmates by Holly Bourne
Copyright
One
It started with a house party.
This wasn’t just any house party. It was also My First Date. Like first EVER date. In my entire life. Because, finally, following all the crap that had gone down, I was ready for boys.
His name was Ethan and he liked the Smashing Pumpkins (whatever that is) and he’d managed to grow real stubble already. And he liked me enough to ask me out after sociology. And he was funny. And he had really small, but cute, dark eyes, like a ferret or something. But a sexy ferret. And he played the drums and the violin. Both! Even though they’re, like, totally different instruments. And and…
…and – oh, Christ – what the HELL was I going to wear?
Okay, so I was stressing. And obsessing. “Obstressing” times a million. In an utterly deplorable way. But this was a big deal to me. I was doing something NORMAL for once. And I reckoned I could just about pull it off. And I did know what I was wearing. I’d run through every possible clothing combination in existence before opting for tight jeans, black top and a red necklace, i.e. what I reckoned to be the safest date outfit ever.
I was going to be normal again. But I was going to step back into it safely.
The outfit
JEANS = Cool, just-like-everyone-else, and I-won’t-sleep-with-you-right-away-so-don’t-even-think-about-it-mister.
BLACK TOP = Slimming – yes, I know…well it was a first date, and my drugs had made me a bit…puffy.
RED NECKLACE = Hints of sexiness underneath, for when you’ve been a good boy, and in six months’ time, when I’m ready, and you’ve said you love me, and lit some candles and all that stuff that probably doesn’t actually ever happen to anyone…
…Oh, and you’ve been deep-cleaned and put through ten STI tests.
Nice. Safe. Outfit.
Put it on, Evie. Just put the damn thing on.
So I did.
Before I get into how it went and how it was the beginning of something, but not the beginning of Ethan, I guess you’ll want to know how I met him so you have some emotional investment.
Bollocks. I just gave away that Ethan and I didn’t work out.
Oh well. Whoever had a great love affair with a guy who looked like a sexy ferret?
How Evie met Ethan
New college. I’d started a brand new college, where only a handful of people knew me as “that girl who went nuts”. Despite my tiny collection of mostly-home-educated GCSEs, the college let me in to do my A levels because I’m actually quite smart when I’m not being sectioned.
I noticed Ethan in my very first sociology lesson. Mainly because he was the only boy in there. Plus, the sexy stubble ferretness.
He sat across from me and our eyes met almost instantly.
I looked behind me to check who he was staring at. There wasn’t anyone behind me.
“Hi, I’m Ethan,” he said, giving me a half-wave.
I waved back with a flap of my hand. “Hi, I’m Evelyn…Evie. Always Evie.”
“Have you done sociology before, Evie?”
I looked at the crisp new textbook on my desk, its spine still utterly intact.
“Erm, no.”
“Me neither,” he said. “But I heard it was a Mickey Mouse subject. An easy A, right?” He did this big grin that caused all sorts of stuff to happen to my insides. So much so that I had to sit down in my chair – except I was already sitting in it, so I just sort of wiggled awkwardly, panicked, then giggled to cover it. “Why are you taking it?” he asked.
A question. You can answer questions, Evie. So I smiled and said, “I thought it was safer than psychology.”
Oops. Think. You think before you answer questions.
His face wrinkled underneath his mop of unruly hair. “Safer?” he repeated.
“Yeah, you know,” I tried to explain. “I…er…well…I didn’t want to get any extra ideas.”
“Ideas?”
“I’m very impressionable.”
“What sort of ideas?” he leaned over the desk with interest. Or confusion.
I shrugged and fiddled with my bag.
“Well in psychology you learn about all the different things that can go wrong in your brain,” I said.
“So?”
I fiddled with my bag some more. “Well, it’s more to worry about, isn’t it? Like, did you know there’s this thing called Body Integrity Identity Disorder?”
“Body Identi-what-now?” he asked, doing the smile again.
“Integrity Identity Disorder. It’s where you wake up one day, convinced you shouldn’t have two legs. You suddenly hate your spare leg, and you really want to be an amputee. In fact, some sufferers actually pretend to be amputees! And the only way to cure it is to get a limb hacked off illegally by this special leg-hacker doctor. People don’t usually get BIID, that’s what they call it, BIID, until their early twenties. Either of us could get it. We don’t know yet. We can only hope we stay emotionally attached to all our limbs. That’s why sociology is safer, I reckon.”