How to be kissed this summer

2: Game start

As she watched the rippling raspberry jelly, closely followed by a barrage of meatballs, arch through the air in a graceful line, it was as if all the secrets of the universe came to Calla at once.

Secondary school was really just one big, convoluted game of musical chairs. You were flung together with a thousand or so kids of your own age, cramped together in this tiny building. And there were only so many places for an easy ride full of parties, boys and sparkling friendships – and so the carnage of scrabbling for one of those was inevitable. Some people were naturally born with the toolkit for survival, whether it be looks, charm, brains – or sheer ruthlessness to climb your way to the top.

Dior had them all.

Others – didn't.

Calla winced as Heidi made impact with the floor – and then her lunch made impact right on top of her, the tomato sauce making for a gory sight on the linoleum floor of the canteen. It could have just as easily been her, with her two left feet.

The laughter was instantaneous, every head turned her way as Heidi tried to stand – then doubling as she slipped over again. Her blonde plaits were splattered red at the tips, like paint brushes. Calla knew it was the right thing to go and help. She'd never spoken to Heidi, like she'd never spoken to the majority of her class, but she remembered how Heidi had spoken to the Ukrainian students when nobody else would.

However, Calla just couldn't afford to do the right thing right now. Not with her stepping on eggshells all around Dior.

"What a mess." Dior rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her turkey sandwich, scarlet coffin nails piercing the bread. Whenever asked the secret of her perky arse in the hallways, she waved them in the direction of her favourite food group: god-blessed carbohydrates.

"What are you looking at?" She snapped at Calla, who hurriedly averted her eyes.

"Can the girl not even walk down a hallway without making a scene?" Hepzi nibbled at her salad. "Such a pick-me."

Calla was tempted to remark on the fact Hepzi was far more a pick-me. She had been following Jack England around at week, gushing about football when she had the least interest – but stopped herself saying it with a mouthful of pasta. It wasn't as if she had any clues on how to get boys either.

At the mention of boys, she was reminded of the bet hanging over her currently, and the time she had to get that kiss ticking away.

There had to be some boy she felt ok talking to. She scanned the cafeteria, but all she got back were a few awkward eye contacts.

Her stomach dropped at the hopelessness of her situation. She hadn't even had a conversation with a boy since primary, since their voices dropped and they began gaining inches on her. She was sure none of them even knew her name. How was she supposed to get one to kiss her?

"Girls – " Dior looked to the ceiling.

They sat at the very top of the vast, rectangular canteen – furthest from the bins, natural light from the window illuminating those who sat like fallen angels – but at that sharp word from Dior, even the year sevens, all the way over by the kitchen, glanced up.

Her voice was just that magnetic.

Dior noticed the drop in chatter around her, and signalled for them all to lean in. "Ow!"

"Sorry." Calla mumbled, rubbing her own head after colliding with Dior's bony scalp. The rest of the group rolled their eyes as Dior gave her look. Great, now she hated her even more.

"About Cole..." Dior pouted, eyes open wide. "So I might have... Dumped him."

"What!" Marianna squealed. This time, everyone in the canteen looked over.

"You've been together for four years! It was your 1500 day anniversary in a week!" Hepzi gaped.

"He's your true love!" Flo blinked. Her big blue eyes were shining more than usual. "You guys were literally the only reason I still believed in love...That I still had hope of sharing hot chocolate in that cute cafe..."

"Flo." Dior patted the girl on the shoulder sympathetically. "Your lesbian ass has no hope at this school. All the cute girls are straight."

Flo sniffed, dropping her fork with a dissatisfied clatter. "Yeah, you're right."

"I just have to focus on my studies at the moment." Dior unfolded her hands from her lap, fluffing her glossy waves. Hair was pretty much the only style element they had control of, as they wore uniform – so she changed hers almost every week, pink, long, short, curly, straight – and pulled off every one. "I don't have time for a relationship."

It was so fast, Calla wasn't sure if it was even there. But Dior's eyes, as she'd said the word 'relationship', might have flickered over to the end of the jock table for a moment - she couldn't tell to what boy, though. 

Marianna must have seen it to, because Calla met her round green eyes for a moment. She'd never really spoken to Marianna before, understanding she was closest to Dior, therefore, it would be wrong of her to speak to much to Calla. But for a second, Calla swore some fizzle of understanding passed between them, her eyes flinching like a cat's.

"Dior, have you seen Ms Ingram's grim new bag?" She looked away, and the moment was broken. 

Calla returned to her chips, watching Heidi as she knelt down, helping the dinner ladies clean up the mess. 

Sure, high school was like a game of musical chairs - but the chair underneath you might be kicked over any time soon. 

-

tensions are already high first chapter... What do you think of Calla's little analogy of school? Agree? Disagree? 

Looking forward to posting the next one 💖✨

Esther Xx