LEECH: a sapphic boarding school bully romance (chapters 1-4)

LEECH: Chapters 1-4

Chapter 1

Shannon

The splintered windowsill scratches my cheek where I rest on it, squinting against the harsh sun rising over St Chesters. The tatty bin bag doubling as a curtain ghosts across the back of my head, feeling horribly like spiders in my hair.

Every time I blink my watery eyes, sunbeams scatter across my vision and with everything silhouetted against the light like this, I can almost pretend I'm somewhere else—somewhere pretty. 

But then the sun's obscured by a tree and the estate comes back into focus—the rusted playpark that hasn't seen an actual kid play in it all year; the wheelie bins that were knocked over by the wind in the night, strewing rubbish; a group of boys raging a path on their bikes through the green already, like a family of foxes out on a scrounge.

'Shannon, get the baby, will ya!' Mum's voice hacks up the stairs and I grit my teeth as the illusion shatters completely. 'She's eating the cat food!'

'She's your fucking kid!' I shout back, releasing the bin bag and throwing my room back into darkness. I kick the lump at the end of my bed—'Emily, up'—then swing my legs to the floor. The morning chill rushes over my bare legs and they goosebump as I peer around for my trackies.

Jogging down the stairs, I scoop Mila up from the kitchen floor. She screams indignantly, kicking at me with her unsocked feet which feel as cold as ice cubes. The gnarled scar on her tiny leg peeks out from where the cuffs of her onesie have rucked up. I pull the clothing down to cover it and give her a shake. 'Stop!'

Mum glances at me from where she stands at the sink in her dressing gown. 'She might get—what, salmonella, is it? Damn thing's had about three handfuls. Make her breakfast, will you?'

I roll my eyes. 'Not from cat food, Mum.'

'Well, whatever.' She throws out a hand. 'You know more than me. As usual. Just get her off the floor. Swear she thinks she's a cat, amount of times she's crawling round down there. She's got mud all up her clothes, look.'

'Yeah, well you treat her like one.'

'Oh, piss off. Here, I made you tea. I can't wait for some pissin' peace and quiet! Are they all back at school today?'

'No, Mum.' Plonking Mila down at the table, I quickly whip up a bowl of Ready Brek and put it in the microwave. 'I told you. The nursery's not open until Wednesday.'

'Right, yeah.' Mum sits down at the table with a heavy sigh. Picking up a packet of cigarettes, she taps one out with an acrylic nail. Red, this time. Last month they'd been pink. Love to know where she gets the bloody money. 'Nearly out,' she mumbles.

'Not in the house, Mum, for god's sake. It's my first day back, I can't go smelling like a smokehouse.'

Mum leans back in her chair and gives me a look. Flicking a lighter, she lights the cigarette. Then she points it at me. 'Kettle black. That place is turning you into a snob, you know that? Told you that would happen.'

'You were also the one who told me to apply. Not sure if you remember that?'

Mum huffs. 'Yeah, well. Last year for you, init?'

I nod. A mantra I've been repeating to myself all summer as my stomach twisted into knots at the thought of going back. Last year, last year, last year. Nine more months of all those rich kids, nine more months of never feeling quite worthy, nine more months of Frances. My stomach clenches again.

'You're gonna have to feed them this morning.' I stir the steaming bowl of Ready Brek before sliding it in front of Mila. 'That's hot, don't let her burn herself. I'm getting the early train today.' When Mum rolls her eyes, I say, 'And remember, Mila goes back Wednesday, not today. The others all go back today. I'll go wake them up.'