The Colour Of Us ✔ | Funny new Teen Fiction |

Chapter Ten | Castaway

Chapter Ten

Monday 20th, April

Castaway 

I am so deliriously happy, so fuelled by adrenaline and relief, that when I collide into the glass double doors that lead out from the Media block, I hardly feel a thing.

And I run and skip towards the sunken garden like my feet are made of springs, not caring that the sketchbook hanging from my backpack is three seconds away from falling out.

I don't care about anything.

There's no worry left in my tummy or in my head. The word presentation no longer induces fear or a persistent sheen of panic.

It's over. Finally and I didn't fall flat on my face or blush that much. I didn't end up in a hospital side room. My parent's weren't called. There was no syncope to be had this time around.

Jamie even offered his congratulations as the class filtered out after my unbelievable but very real triumph over mind and matter, and all the mess nerves, but more importantly - Idiopathic Craniofacial Erythema.

Josie 1 - ICE 0

Now, I'm a master of speaking words publicly, even if some were possibly in-audible or mumbled.

And I'm so beyond ecstatic about semi-acing my three minute and twenty-nine second presentation that I plan on thanking Max with a spontaneous, all expenses paid fish and chip lunch. Followed by any kind ice cream his heart desires. All the ice cream, if needs be.

I feel like a Queen whose just recaptured her castle.

Fearless. Unstoppable. Ready to conquer the damn world.

"Max!" I shout, out of breath but not joy, which I've got it in buckets, even if it does make my head feel a little dizzy, like it's not screwed on right. As he slowly turns his own, I begin to wonder if this is how lottery winners feel.

The rush of adrenaline blurs most of those around me, as if riding a wave across to the sunken garden, and to Max who I'm chuffed to see has kept to his word of coming to console or congratulate, dependent on the outcome.

But he barely glances up as I slam my backpack down onto the wood beam beside him. His eyes obscured by the mop of hair that falls over them are focussed on his guitar case laid out by his feet.

I swing my legs round and nudge his shoulder. "You'll never guess who just aced their presentation...?"

I'm met with silence.

Jubilant pride pushes me to continue. "Well, I say aced...maybe it wasn't quite The Gettysburg Address, but I did it. I suffered through. Didn't faint. Blushing was minimal," I ramble on, keen to relive it second by second and to ham it up a bit, for dramatic purposes. "And of course, I have you to thank for that - although I didn't take your advice to picture them all naked...!"

"I'm really happy for you," Max says finally speaking up, though his tone sounds anything but. "Well done Josie."

"Thank you."

He nods at me, offers a weak smile.

"What's wrong..?" I drawl, catching my breath back along with fresh worry about why he's acting like this. Why he's so quiet.

Why he looks so upset.

"Max, come on, what's up?"

"It's nothing. I'm fine."