“Everyone’s looking.”
“You’re going to be OK,” Amy whispered. “Remember, it’s school. They’ll get bored by tomorrow.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“She totally is,” Kim said loudly, clearly enjoying the corridor parting for us.
When the bell shrilled, I hugged them both goodbye. They had a welcome back assembly, while I had an appointment with the school counselor: Wendy, a woman who looked like she slept in her pearl necklace. In her office, she relayed to me the wide variety of “measures” my school was taking to get me through my exams despite my mental illness. I could skip school assemblies. I could leave Physics early on Thursday afternoons for my CBT appointments. They’d placed me into top sets based on predicted grades, and we could see how I got on. As she outlined all the logistical gymnastics required for me to function like a normal teenager, I felt myself detach from my balloon string and float off again. My body was nodding and my mouth was saying “thank you,” but I was watching myself from the ceiling.
This wasn’t me. This wasn’t my life. It couldn’t be. Shouldn’t be.
“So, what’s your first lesson?” Wendy asked, and I snapped back into my body. “Let’s see? English? That’s one of your favorites, isn’t it?”
I nodded with a tight throat.
“What a great way to start.”
The bell rang, jolting me to my core. I’d forgotten the shrillness of it.
“And so it begins.” Wendy stood to usher me out, with a new firmness to her.
* * *
“Oh my God, Fern, how ARE YOU?” Abigail Goddarth sprang up to give me a hug as I shuffled into my English class, though we’d never really been friends. Her newly sprouted breasts squashed against my own flat chest as our jumpers crackled against each other.
“I’m good, thanks,” I mumbled. “How are you?”
“Yeah. Good. Are you OK?”
“Fine thanks. How was your summer?”
“Yeah, it was great. But how are you really?” Abigail tilted her head to one side in faux concern and her eyes drifted to my covered arms, scanning them for information she could use on the gossip black market that upcoming lunchtime.
“I’m fine. Like I said...” My lungs crunched in on themselves. This was just what I feared would happen. I strained my neck to the front, checking for Mr. Dudley’s presence to make it all go away. But he was late, leaving me the leading role in this play of faked sympathy disguised as curiosity.
But a distraction came from Richard—the biggest pervert in our year group. I yelped as my training bra strap pinged my back through my jumper.
“Fern! I heard you went nuts?” he said, before reaching over to ping Abi’s too. “Abi! These tits are new. You had a busy summer.”
“Fucking hell, Richard, you are so gross.” Abigail smacked him away and crossed her arms.
Richard laughed and followed me to the back. “So, did they, like, lock you up?” he asked, perching on my desk. “Were you in a straitjacket? Everyone said you overdosed. Or slit your wrists. Or both.”
“Oh my God, Richard, shut up,” I hissed.
A grin spread through his acne.
“Did you take pills so it didn’t hurt when you cut yourself?”
“Honestly, you sad pervert, shut the fuck up,” I said. “Maybe I’d rather kill myself than look at your fucking face every day.”
The class rippled with laughter, revealing they’d all been listening in.
Richard held both arms up. “Oooerr. Don’t go all psycho on me.”
“Oh piss off, you giant VIRGIN.”
Hilarity descended as Richard called me a fucking bitch, then slunk into his desk chair, just as Mr. Dudley blustered through the door in a cloud of teacherly obliviousness.
“Right class, settle down.” He clapped for attention. “Welcome to your English GCSEs. The good news is, you’re about to read one of the best novels ever written.” Mr. Dudley got us to hand out hardback copies of We Have Always Lived in the Castle, while he turned his back to write on the whiteboard.
I was initially so consumed in these normal activities—like getting out my notepad and writing the date at the top without crying—that I hadn’t noticed her. The new girl sitting in the corner behind me.
Abi passed me the pile of books, and I plucked one out, before twisting to pass them on. And there she was. Hair dark and long, hanging over her stunning, pointed face. Her jumper sleeves drawn down over her hands, like mine. Looking as scared and out of place as I felt.
“Thanks,” the new girl said, taking the pile and passing it on. Her voice was husky and sexy, and sounded way too old for someone our age.
“Are you new?”
She nodded and smiled, holding a hand up over her mouth. “First day today. I was so embarrassed when they introduced me in assembly just now.”
“You were great,” I lied, not wanting to admit I’d not been there. I wondered if she’d overheard Richard’s comments about me. “Do you like it here so far?”
“I don’t know.” The new girl paused. “It’s weird...” She wrinkled her nose.
“What’s weird?”
“This school...it smells exactly the same as my old school.”
I let out a cackle of recognition. The new girl joined in, revealing a set of small, pointed teeth. I felt the peculiar certainty of fate reach out and tug me toward her, and knew instantly we were going to become friends. That we didn’t even have a say in the matter.
“Right, everyone. Chapter one, page one. Who wants to start reading?”
I leaned over. “I’m Fern,” I whispered.
She smiled, and, in her eyes, I could see she felt it too. “Hi. I’m Jessica.”
31
now.
“Wow, Jessica.” My chair screeched as I pulled it back and sidestepped the table to hug my old friend. “Oh my God,” I kept saying. “Oh my God, oh my God. It’s been years.”
I felt her thinness as we hugged, the gaps between her body and her coat that scrunched as our torsos collided.
She laughed into my shoulder. The exact same gravelly laugh she’d always had, plunging me down a hundred memory wormholes. “Surprise!”
I laughed too, mostly in disbelief, as we released the hug and I perched on my table, taking her in. “It’s so crazy that you’re here.”