7
Wednesday 23rd of May. Somewhere in the world it was someone’s birthday. Four weeks and six days until my last day of school.
I was sitting up in bed, a cup of coffee perched dangerously on the mattress. It was early. Very early. Just getting light outside.
I switched on the laptop and sipped at my coffee. Birds were singing in an obscenely loud way. I imagined everyone still asleep. Eva in her single bed, red-ish hair splayed out over the pillow. Mum and Daisy downstairs.
I spent a whole two hours sorting things out. I searched for flats and for courses. I found a promising course in Bristol. Photography, of course. A year long, prep course. A recognised qualification at the end of it. Three, four month terms. £ 450 a term.
I took a note of it. Wrote down details.
I filled in an application form. Sent it off. I would tell mum later. It was probably all filled up. I had left it quite late.
It starts a month after I leave school.
I searched on gum tree for flats.
Nothing.
I got up then. Carried my empty coffee cup over to the chest of drawers. I looked in my grandma’s mirror. I noticed split ends so cut them off then and there. Each side was very slightly a different length but it didn’t matter.
I went into the en suite. I turned the shower on and waited for it to heat up. The sun was shining outside in that clean early morning way. I opened the window. I peed, washed my face in the sink and brushed my teeth. I pulled my tie-dye Dope Chef t-shirt over my head and stepped out of the green shorts I’d worn to bed.
I climbed into the shower. I washed my hair. Shaved. Passed soap over my body.
I switched off the shower and climbed out. I wrapped a towel around myself. Twirled one around my hair.
I went back out into my room. I pulled the curtains apart. I dried my body.
I put on a faded black t-shirt I’d owned since I was thirteen. It looked as if it would get hot later so I put on black, high-waisted shorts and a tattered black boys hoody that may have been Nico’s at some point. It smelt a bit like weed but I chose to ignore that. I located my creepers and my rucksack. I went downstairs. The second landing was silent. Down in the kitchen I put an apple and a bottle of juice into my bag. I wrote a note for mum.
Applied for college in Bristol. £ 1350. See you when I get home later. B x
My hair was still wet when I left the house. It was still too early. Everything was a little too quiet. I had time to kill so I walked towards Eva’s house. I stopped off in a child’s play park.
I sat facing seawards on a swing. I looked at nothing in particular.
I picked up my bag, swung it onto my shoulder. Two young girls walked past the park, chewing chewing-gum. They were wearing too much lipstick.
I walked back in the direction of school.
The roads were busier now. I walked slowly. When I got to the school, teachers were still arriving. No students yet.
I walked in through the doors.
The library was completely empty so I looked for a book. Settled on a play. The Man Who Had All The Luck By Arthur Miller.
When the bell rang I waited behind in Josh’s classroom.
He was covering another class according to his emails.
