Dearest Kit

Chapter Twenty Five

   “Are you and the guys going to start recording soon?” Gracie wondered, as we sat around the work table, scribbling down notes on the most recent topic we had studied in Biology. I was swapping pens frequently, using brightly coloured marker pens to make the topic marginally more interesting. 

   “I think so,” I nodded, “we had a practice last Sunday, we’ve got around five or six songs ready to record. Once we’ve done that, Jim said he’d take the lead considering he’s already dealt with studios and producing.” 

   “That’s exciting,” she looked up and grinned at me, curling a long piece of auburn hair behind her ear. 

   “I know,” I nodded in agreement, biting my lip. “We’ll start gigging soon, hopefully, I know it’s quick, but if we can start supporting local bands, playing at open mic nights.” 

   “I would have thought that you’d be able to start headlining straight away? No?” Sacha chimed in. “Surely you know a few people who could support you?” 

   “I’m meeting with James Cartwright next week,” I mentioned, “to discuss the band, to talk about options, but I don’t want to get there just by using connections, I think we should work our way up, become successful because people like us, not just because we were put on the radio.”  

   “Oh are you meeting James then?” She replied sarcastically. 

   “I didn’t say it like that,” I retorted. 

   “How about Rumer, are you meeting her soon? Kit might bring Isabel or Winnie over next week,” she laughed and I couldn’t help but narrow my eyes and shake my head in disbelief  as she ran off names of people Kit had starred in movies with; this was how she viewed me. I knew she was saying it as a joke, but behind all that, must be a little truth. I didn’t want to feed it though, so I didn’t respond, just carried on with my work. I saw her widen her eyes and look at Gracie comically, in that way she did when she knew she was winding me up. 

   I read through the last couple of pages of the textbook, trying to memorize a table of comparisons between prokaryotic and eukaryotic cells. I ran my finger down the page, reciting the facts over in my head, trying to work their ways into the recesses of my longterm memory. It was harder though, revising like this, when secretly, you were still thinking about what someone had just said, how upset you were feeling. 

   “I’m really excited, I’m going to be one of those people at university who can say, “do you know Lana O’Rourke? Well I went to school with her.”’ Gracie said happily, beginning to giggle as she put her pen down and sat upright. 

   “More than that, you’d be able to say that we’re friends, that you speak to me every week,” I grinned. 

   “Oh it would be so cool,” she sighed, “I’ve always wanted to be one of those people.” 

   “Have you decided where you’re going to go next year?” I wondered. 

   “I think Bristol,” she nodded, “I like it because it’s by the sea and the people seem really great.” 

   “I visited it,” I said, hugging one knee up to my chest, “it’s really nice there, good choice.” 

   “How about you, have you decided what you’re going to do?” Gracie asked, her brow creasing. 

   “I applied to Exeter, UCL, Cambridge and Bristol,” I explained, shrugging slowly and lowering my eyes to the piece of paper in front of me, as my fingers folded the bottom. “I have no idea what I’m going to do,” I confessed regretfully.