searching for bugs together in the mud. A bit like someone I used to know…
“I don’t know, Hollie, it’s complicated.”
That’s what Mum always says when she wants to fob me off, so it sounds like the right thing to say in this situation. Hollie seems satisfied; she nods and finally decides to skip ahead of me. This is good as it leaves me to wallow in my own worries, these being:
1) Going back into school, after bunking, with no note to explain why.
2) Going back into school and facing Kez again.
3) Going back into school and facing PE, with no note to excuse me from it.
I’m particularly annoyed about 3) as I’d asked Mum last night to get me away from the HELL that is PE but she forgot. So now I’m going to be subject to the torture of undressing in front of the other skinny, perfect girls and then made to run around in shorts that are far too small for me. It’s not as though the PE teachers are even that horrible. Miss Gregory is sweet, blonde and perky with lovely long legs and a bright, barky voice that bounces through the gym. Miss Frazer, who’s much older but even more muscular, even tries to encourage me, tells me I’d make a good hockey player if I’d let my confidence issues go. It’s just neither of them really understand how hard PE is for someone like me. It’s not just the session itself. It’s the before and after. The constant humiliation.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t wobble. It wouldn’t be so bad if my skin wasn’t such a ghostly white, marked only by the bluish stains of bruises and veins that stand out like tattoos.
It wouldn’t be so bad if it were just me in the room.
“Jess! Jess!”
Hollie is tugging on my arm. We are at the gate on the school. Throngs of children are pushing their way through.
“You stopped,” she says. “Why did you stop?”
She is looking at me so confused. I had no idea I had just been standing there. “I’m sorry,” I say, grabbing her hand, “let’s go.”
“You looked sad. Like Mum does.”
I stare down at her wide eyes. Sometimes I forget just how small she is. She must get so scared too.
“I’m not sad,” I say, as firmly as I can. “I’m not sad at all.”
I march her into school, forcing all the worries into the back of my mind.
Silly worries. Not important.
It will be OK. It has to be.
“So this Lyn… What sort of name is that anyway?” Phillip is looking particularly confused. He’s studying me like I’m some kind of weird insect that he’s just found on the chair. It’s a bit unnerving.
“It’s short for Lyndon.”
“Oh. I see. So, this Lyn, he’s decided to invite you to his party and he just happens to be dating the girl you hate the most?” Phillip’s nose wrinkles. “Interesting.”
“I guess, when you put it like that; but we used to be friends, good ones.”
Phillip is sitting in the library, working on his maths project. He looks more relaxed today. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because he’s allowed his hair to fluff out a little. It kind of suits him.
“I take it you’re going?” he says, not looking at me now as he adds more lines. He is so careful with each one.
“Well, I said I was, but I wasn’t really thinking then. Now I’m not so sure.”
“Why?” Phillip waves his ruler at me. “The host has invited you. It would be rude not to go, surely?”
“Duh! Kez will be there. And Marnie! Or have you forgotten that? If they see me there, they will tear me to pieces. I’m sure Lyn doesn’t want his living room redecorated with my body parts.”
Phillip seems to be considering this. His forehead wrinkles and he looks like he’s going into some kind of trance. “But surely she wouldn’t do anything in front of Lyn?”
“Why not?”
“Because that would make her look bad in front of him. If she finds out he invited you, she has to respect that or risk upsetting him. You’re his friend; surely she has to begin to recognize that?”
“I
“I don’t know, Hollie, it’s complicated.”
That’s what Mum always says when she wants to fob me off, so it sounds like the right thing to say in this situation. Hollie seems satisfied; she nods and finally decides to skip ahead of me. This is good as it leaves me to wallow in my own worries, these being:
1) Going back into school, after bunking, with no note to explain why.
2) Going back into school and facing Kez again.
3) Going back into school and facing PE, with no note to excuse me from it.
I’m particularly annoyed about 3) as I’d asked Mum last night to get me away from the HELL that is PE but she forgot. So now I’m going to be subject to the torture of undressing in front of the other skinny, perfect girls and then made to run around in shorts that are far too small for me. It’s not as though the PE teachers are even that horrible. Miss Gregory is sweet, blonde and perky with lovely long legs and a bright, barky voice that bounces through the gym. Miss Frazer, who’s much older but even more muscular, even tries to encourage me, tells me I’d make a good hockey player if I’d let my confidence issues go. It’s just neither of them really understand how hard PE is for someone like me. It’s not just the session itself. It’s the before and after. The constant humiliation.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t wobble. It wouldn’t be so bad if my skin wasn’t such a ghostly white, marked only by the bluish stains of bruises and veins that stand out like tattoos.
It wouldn’t be so bad if it were just me in the room.
“Jess! Jess!”
Hollie is tugging on my arm. We are at the gate on the school. Throngs of children are pushing their way through.
“You stopped,” she says. “Why did you stop?”
She is looking at me so confused. I had no idea I had just been standing there. “I’m sorry,” I say, grabbing her hand, “let’s go.”
“You looked sad. Like Mum does.”
I stare down at her wide eyes. Sometimes I forget just how small she is. She must get so scared too.
“I’m not sad,” I say, as firmly as I can. “I’m not sad at all.”
I march her into school, forcing all the worries into the back of my mind.
Silly worries. Not important.
It will be OK. It has to be.
“So this Lyn… What sort of name is that anyway?” Phillip is looking particularly confused. He’s studying me like I’m some kind of weird insect that he’s just found on the chair. It’s a bit unnerving.
“It’s short for Lyndon.”
“Oh. I see. So, this Lyn, he’s decided to invite you to his party and he just happens to be dating the girl you hate the most?” Phillip’s nose wrinkles. “Interesting.”
“I guess, when you put it like that; but we used to be friends, good ones.”
Phillip is sitting in the library, working on his maths project. He looks more relaxed today. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because he’s allowed his hair to fluff out a little. It kind of suits him.
“I take it you’re going?” he says, not looking at me now as he adds more lines. He is so careful with each one.
“Well, I said I was, but I wasn’t really thinking then. Now I’m not so sure.”
“Why?” Phillip waves his ruler at me. “The host has invited you. It would be rude not to go, surely?”
“Duh! Kez will be there. And Marnie! Or have you forgotten that? If they see me there, they will tear me to pieces. I’m sure Lyn doesn’t want his living room redecorated with my body parts.”
Phillip seems to be considering this. His forehead wrinkles and he looks like he’s going into some kind of trance. “But surely she wouldn’t do anything in front of Lyn?”
“Why not?”
“Because that would make her look bad in front of him. If she finds out he invited you, she has to respect that or risk upsetting him. You’re his friend; surely she has to begin to recognize that?”
“I
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