𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ; [𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬]

[𝟏.𝟐] ; 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ― 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐋

As per usual, Clare Devlin, the little blonde brainiac, would be waiting on the corner of the estate for the girls. Alannah had wondered if she would actually make it past her own mother with a denim jacket on, for Derry mothers were all a lot like Mary. Lo and behold, Clare was wearing her denim jacket over her jumper, looking shocked and concerned when she saw Erin wasn't in hers.

"What's all this?!" Clare cried, her arms swinging down as they gestured to Erin's blazer. "I thought we were going to be individuals this year,"

The four girls started walking, Orla walking behind. "I wanted to, Clare, but my Ma wouldn't let me," Erin explained.

"She threatened her with the wooden spoon there, Clare," Alannah added, a smile plastered on her face where Erin's had a scowl.

"Well, I'm not being an individual on my own," Clare said. She pulled off her backpack and shoved it into Orla's hands behind, shrugging off her denim jacket and stuffing it into her backpack after pulling her green blazer out. The eldest McCool girl chuckled. She should have known Clare would come prepared.

They carried on walking all the way to Dennis's Wee Shop to pick up a pick 'n' mix each, except Clare who was sniffing the full boxes like she was being deprived or something. "You not getting anything?" questioned Erin.

"Sure, aren't I doing this fast for Ethiopia?"

"Not the fucking Africans again, Clare," Alannah muttered in disapproval.

Sure, didn't Clare every so often do a fast to raise money for somewhere in Africa and always crack before the day was up. "For Christ's sake, what is it with you and Africa?" Erin asked.

"Will you sponsor me?" Clare asked, pulling something from her bag.

"How much?"

"Two pounds,"

Alannah snorted while Erin screwed up her face, "Two pounds? Catch yourself on,"

Orla showed up behind the three with her own sweets in hand, listening in on the conversation. "What's happening over there is really lousy, Erin. Father Conway showed us a video. There's this one wee fella, Kamal-" Clare explained, her hands gesturing to how 'wee' the fella really was, "- He's only ten and every morning he walks twenty five miles to the nearest well,"

"Does he just really enjoy wells, aye?" questioned Orla.

Alannah scrunched up her eyes at her cousin, opening her mouth to correct her but then deciding against it. The last time she tried to correct Orla, she took over forty minutes and had somehow made it worse.

"Twenty five miles? How far is that?" quizzed Erin.

"Far,"

"Like, how far are we talking? From here to Buncrana?"

"Further. It's more like from here to Ballybofey,"

Alannah sucked in her breath. "Fuck off, no it's not," she said in denial and disbelief, but Clare only nodded. "Christ, but that's far,"

"Shut up. From here to Ballybofey? Sure, you'd be knackered," Erin admitted.

"Kamal is knackered,"

"Are you sure Kamal isn't exaggerating?"

"Look, stop slagging off Kamal," Clare told her, pointing her blue biro pen at the blonde girl. "Kamal doesn't have it easy. Now, will you sponsor me or not?"

Erin looked down at the tubs of sweets, then back to Clare, then back to the sweets. "Fine," she called out, tipping the bag upside down and allowing the sweets to fall back into the tubs. There was no way that Alannah was going to sponsor Clare after the last God-knows how many times she had packed it in.

"Ah!" shouted Dennis as he came around and saw Erin depositing her sweets. "You touch them, you buy them. That's the law,"

"I don't think that is the law," Erin said slowly.

"If I say it's the law, it's the law, smart-o!"

"Right. It's just I can't afford them anymore. I have to give all my money to Kamal," Erin said, not offering much explanation other than causing Dennis to wonder.

Dennis scrunched up his eyes, "Who the fuck's Kamal?"

"He's a wee Ethiopian fella from Ballybofey, Dennis," Orla replied.

Alannah took in a deep breath, rubbing her temple with her fingers. She watched as Clare held up the her sponsor sheet, a couple Ethiopian children on the front, and holding out her biro. "Do you want to sponsor me, Dennis?"

He looked between the girls and at Clare's sheet and then shouted, "Get out!"

Quickly, the four girls rushed out of the shop. Alannah was still holding the pick 'n' mix she had created whilst inside but hadn't paid for it. Dennis must not have noticed, thank God. And she wasn't about to go back in and pay for it either. Aye, it was considered theft but fuck it.

As she left, she pulled a coloured ribbon that was connected to the door curtain from her shoulder. "Good one, Geldof," Erin muttered to Clare. Alannah popped a sweet in her mouth when she heard, "Oh, my God, David. David Donnelly,"

Alannah looked up and she could see the red and black plaid jacket he was wearing and instantly recognised it. He had worn that the night they had kissed. Erin had always fancied David Donnelly so, to get back at her for ripping a hole in Alannah's favourite jumper, she had kissed him at a party. Since then, David had done nothing but flirt with her until a couple weeks ago when she had yelled at him that she wasn't interested. It took a while before Erin had accepted her apology.

"OK. Just act normal," she muttered. Erin began walking forwards, a spring in her step. She let out a ferocious and maniacal laugh, "No way! Are you serious?"

Alannah and Clare clocked each other, wondering what was going on. "What are you doing? Who are you talking to?" Clare questioned.

"Erin, have you got a light?" David asked, turning around and clocking the group. He pulled out a cigarette from behind his ear.

"Me? No, I don't smoke," she replied. "Why the hell do I not smoke?" she questioned, turning her head into Alannah.

"I have one," Orla said, tossing a red lighter into the air where David caught it, "I don't smoke either. I just like melting stuff,"

"Is she OK?" David asked.

Alannah scoffed, "We're not entirely sure," she answered him.

The McCool girl hadn't seen it but Erin was looking between the two and praying that there was nothing about to go on between the two so she quickly said, "Cool poster,"

"Oh, do you think so?" he asked before lighting up his cigarette.

"Yeah. Really nice use of, you know... letters,"

What the actual fuck, Erin?, Alannah thought. Erin was extremely bad at flirting. "Thanks. You should come along tonight,"

It sounded more like a courtesy than an actual 'I-want-you-to-come' thing. "You're inviting me to your gig?" she asked, smile bright and wide.

"Yeah, well, all of you. You'll come, won't you, Alannah?"

Alannah glanced up from her sweet bag with wide eyes. Before she could say anything, which would have been a polite decline, Erin said, "But you'd specifically like me to go, I mean, just so we're clear,"

"But Erin, Murder, She Wrote's on tonight. You never miss Murder, She Wrote," Orla added.

"Shut up,"

Clare walked forwards, "We're going to be late,"

"Aye, come on," Alannah said.

"Yeah, kicks off at six," David told them.

Clare grabbed Erin's blazer as Erin said, "Sweet. Cool. Maybe I'll see you there, then," And then all four girls left towards the bus stop.