Everybody's Girl

4.

I kept my head down through form, only lifting it up when Mrs. Reynolds called out the register in the same dull tone she had called out the years before. 

Some teachers were amazingly consistent with their unenthusiasm.  Mrs. Reynolds, tedium in a grey pencil skirt, was one of them. At least she didn't mind what you did in form. Some teachers insisted on making you doing something hellish like icebreakers. 

The first few periods passed without incident. I didn't know anyone well in my form, and they all played their part in staying away from me.

I kept to myself in classes, even though I was actually kind of excited for them this year. I knew it would be tough, but my A-level choices were something I had complete control over. 

We had Madam Binoche for French. Tough, but a great teacher. I had the Biology cheat-code with a nurse for a mum. 

But it was English I was excited about. With no one calling my phone, I spent the whole summer reading and falling into stories. 

Some not appropriate to talk about in public. 

They were a great distraction from facing it all. A great comfort. 

We had Mr. Pearce this year. No one knows his real age. He's about 85-102, exclusively wears bright colors. 

Mr. Pearce can always be found feeding ducks in the garden outside his classroom, or telling questionable stories about his youth. 

He was positively nuts, but known to be a good teacher. Before everything, I would have been really excited for this class. 

Thankfully, I got to choose my own seat. The beige L-shaped tables meant that you had to at least choose a partner. Hattie and James who sit on the other side of the L nod at me while I take my seat. 

They seemed cool, just not part of the group I used to hang around with.

 I was the first here so I chose the seat nearest to the window. It looked like it had the least gum stuck under.

 Then she walked in. Golden hair in braids, overalls, and trainers. I used to have a matching pair. Giselle. It used to be Giselle and Aisha, the latter now expelled from that duo. She walked in with Kiki. Matching braids. Giselle and Kiki. She only moved here last year, but we all got close in Year 11. Past tense. They take the closest seat to the door. 

 Mr. Pearce begins his introduction just as the boy from the hill walks into the door, this time with chunky headphones around his neck. 

He mutters a sorry and blends into the class. I pretend not to notice a few girls giving him the up-down. Who wouldn't? Now that I look closer at him closely, I can see that something about him.

 He's pretty in a way that only some boys can be. He has brown skin slightly lighter than mine, a dusting of freckles at the bridge of his nose, a buzzed black head, and a nose ring I'm sure causes a lot of double-takes. 

His backpack has a badge of a band I've never heard of. 

Unfortunately, the only seat happens to be beside mine. Without hesitation, he sits down.

"Hi."

Having magically lost the ability to speak since his arrival, I don't respond. Instead, I try my best to concentrate on the class and ignore the glares I'm receiving on the other side of the room. 

Mr. Pearce goes into the historical context of the play, Tis Pity She's a Whore. I read it over the summer in case it was chosen for this year's texts. To put it innocently, it was controversial. 

Mr. Pearce wrote "whore" on the board and opened up to the class for discussion. 

Kiki begins. 

"I think we shouldn't be discussing the why but the who. Obviously, there are people who relish in being whores and make it their whole identity."

She looks straight at me as she says it, earning a slight smile from Giselle.

 "Anyone else?" I avoid eye contact with Mr. Pearce as he says this. 

"Aisha."

"What's the question?"

"Just some thoughts or ideas."

"Well the whore is a social construction, and wouldn't exist without societal expectations placed on woman to keep their imaginary virginity." I try not to look at Giselle as I say this. 

"Brilliant." I feel slightly less anxious when he acknowledges my comment. 

"Virginity isn't imaginary. It's science. You either have it or you don't." Paul, a guy I used to have Maths adds. Notorious bell-end. 

"Right." Kiki agrees. 

"Keep discussing." Mr. Pearce urges.

"But it's not science. If you have a vagina, you can "break" your hymen riding a bike. You need society's ideas of virginity to exist before you can attach it to a biological phenomenon."

Mr. Peace writes society on the board while I talk.

"Still. It exists in society."

My deskmate who's been taking notes puts his pen down to respond to Paul. 

"We are society." His voice is deep but soft, choosing his words carefully. 

"These ideas exist because of how society views people of different genders. The same rules of virginity don't apply to men. If you lose your virginity, you get high fives. I don't think the same applies to women like Annabella."

So he'd also read "Tis Pity." Maybe I wasn't the only one with nothing to do this summer. I look down at his paper and see what I thought were notes. A flower trail through his border.

"Excellent contribution, Lucien."

"Luc."

"Class is dismissed. I want everyone to have read the first act by next week. On Thursday we'll be talking about character."

"Sir." Luc calls, immersing himself into a chat with Mr. Pearce. 

I try to catch up with Giselle before lunch. 

"Hi."

"So shameless." Kiki says.

"I didn't hear anything from you all summer."

"I was busy." Giselle's disinterested expression is a knife through my heart.

"Did you get my text?"

"None of your business."

"I'm talking to G." Kiki rolls her eyes.

"Don't call me that."

"But G- Giselle." I reach out to touch her hand. She pulls back as if I were contagious. 

"You know what you did." 

Giselle and Kiki walk away. 

I watch her run into her boyfriend Damson's arms, hands around his neck. 

I was guilty of something. Something I could never tell Giselle.

 Exactly 3 people knew the truth. 

One doesn't have the courage to speak up. 

One is trapped between them.

 And one is staring back at me, pleading for my silence, as he squeezes Giselle tighter around him. 

----

unedited