No, We Can't Be Friends

by Sophie Ranald

how to be just the right level of funny and sassy and taking-no-shit, without being perceived as a threat.

‘Do you trust him to hold your heart in his hands and keep it safe?’

‘I gave him my heart to hold in his hand,’ she went on, ‘and he held it carelessly. He didn’t care if he dropped it, or crushed it, or if it got squashed up against one of the other hearts women gave him to carry. He had so many, you see.’

Don’t waste the best years of your life on a man who’ll only ever love himself. Don’t let it destroy you like it has me.’

‘He’s an utter wankpuffin, Sloane. A twatbadger, a cockwomble, a dickbiscuit. He is a miserable piece of knobcheese