𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘵-𝘋𝘰𝘶𝘹

Chapter 4 - Daisy

Anglicisms to Americanisms:

Primary school: Kindergarten-Grade 5 (i think?)

xxx

Monday alarm. Waking up groggily, at 7:30 am, followed by a feeling of lethargy at the idea of school. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and step onto the sheep-skin rug I bought yesterday, beaming at my room finally feeling more cosy. It also makes me look up at my ivory walls, now emblazoned with fake Nirvana and Grandson records.

Dragging myself to my feet, I open my wardrobe doors, removing my school uniform from it. Not in a rush but not wanting to be late, I slide into my basic outfit; black skirt, tights, blazer, the only splash of colour being the red tie around our necks.

The school I go to is honestly apathetic, not really giving any feeling other than school, which is pretty crap. Thinking about it, I wonder if schools should or are supposed to give off particular emotions, like ambition or seriousness? I suppose they should, depending on their slogan.

When I reach our kitchen/living room, Jack and Mum are conversing at the table, fending me off to the kitchen half of the room. Without a word, I find myself a breakfast bar, ambivalent whether to eat it here - with them - or on the bus to school. I conclude that I will eat it in my room, not ever in the mood to talk with them. I nod at them and manage a tight smile.

'Morning sweetheart!' my mum says, brightly. I bristle at this.

'Morning,' I mumble. Jack shoots me a look, which I ignore, passing them to go back to my bedroom. Taking a bite out of my breakfast bar at the same time, I browse my phone for a while before deciding to message Hannah and Daisy on our group chat.

You: hey girlies, getting the bus? x

They both reply at the same time, announcing they will be taking the bus. Of course, Hannah sparks up the conversation about Valentines Day being tomorrow.

'Have you got your love note ready for Aiden then?' I hear her tease Daisy as the texts appear on my screen.

'Hannah!' Daisy squeals sheepishly through her message (I can clearly picture her pretty face, red with embarrassment). 'But yeah, I have. He's just so dreamy! ;)'

'Why don't you just say it to his face instead of sending him an anonymous note?' Hannah scoffs. 'Every boy wants to hear that he's "so dreamy".'

I don't intervene, finding silent enjoyment by watching them bicker like primary school kids. While they do, I continuously check the time, itching to get to school.

After what felt like ages watching the Hannah and Daisy Show, I leave to go to the bus stop with five minutes of spare time in hand. Hannah will already be on the bus and I'll be able to meet Daisy at the stop. I call my goodbyes to Jack and Mum to let them know I'm leaving, and I hear a distant reply. I put my shiny, black school shoes on. Weirdly, one of the few pieces of decoration around the house is a photograph on the doorway wall of all of us: Jack, Mum and I, maybe about 5 years ago. There's a person next to Mum, but I'll never be able to decipher them due to most of them being cut off by the photographer.

Tittering quietly to myself about the title I gave the 'Hannah and Daisy Show', I check my bag is packed then swiftly make my leave. Despite being a hellhole, school is a stress relief from here.

'Hey, Jojo!' Daisy exclaims in her feathery voice, giving me a friendly hug. 'Are you okay, babe?'

'Yep, thanks, what about you?' I eye her as she smiles awkwardly.

'I'll tell you on the bus,' She whispers, mysteriously, with a shy giggle afterwards. I'm not going to lie about this; I forced Hannah to let Daisy hang out with us. Daisy is, in our year and our hometown, what resembles a social outcast, acquiring a high-pitched voice, bashful personality and fairy-like appearance.