CECE, DISRESPECTFULLY | ✓

45: THE SLIP

            Diwa laughs at whatever extremely embarrassing and corny joke Noah has just made. The last of her chuckles are tucked into the corners of her smile. I've never realised before today but she has a slight overbite. And when she grins, the bridge of her nose crinkles.

Her black waves cascade down her shoulders, loose as has recently become her usual style, and she has the lesbian pride pin I stole for her attached to her jumper. Given that all I have at my disposal is a ballpoint pen, it's impossible for me to capture the colours in my drawing but I'd say I'm doing a passable job at replicating textures.

'That's proper good, Cece.'

I turn to Meira who has paused in packing up her things to look at the sketch. She even steps closer to see it better. When did she stop flinching every time she saw me?

'I didn't know you draw.' (Defanged and declawed. I've got no protection. Anyone who wants can kill me.) 'It's brilliant.'

I attempt to reciprocate Meira's warmth as she buttons up her raincoat. Her attention draws Noah and Diwa's to me too and soon I've sunk as low in my chair as I possibly can without falling off.

Noah claps me on the shoulder. 'Fuck, Cece, it's like you're good at everything!'

'Is that me?' Diwa asks in a horrible sing-songy way.

'No.'

'Well, it looks like me.'

'It looks fuck all like you, you fucking narcissist.'

Though heavily stylised, the portrait is immediately recognisable. Mega idea on my behalf to have drawn this in public. Absolutely fucking indescribable levels of wisdom yet again!

(Meira and Noah will figure it out. Then the rest will too.)

'Anywho, thanks for today,' Noah says, hooking the strap of his bag over her shoulder. He grins in the doorway. 'You know, I really reckon we've got a chance to win this year. Not that it's about winning. But it would be nice, wouldn't it?'

'Yeah, it would,' Meira says, grinning. 'I'll see you lot tomorrow.'

They leave and, per usual, I'm left in the room with Diwa. I clean the whiteboard from our group relay practice, unbothered to suppress my smile at the mouse Meira doodled out of one of the sevens.

'Got any plans tonight?' Diwa asks, dragging the tables back apart from our group sitting arrangement.

'I've gotta do biology coursework for tomorrow.' I turn around, waving around the whiteboard eraser in a loose grip. 'You know, now that I'm actually paying attention, that stuff is kinda interesting. Ó Ceallaigh recommended me this book about insects and the librarian actually ordered it for me from the city library. Did you know you could ask him to do that?'

Diwa scowls. 'Yes, Cece. That's how libraries work.'

'Well, I'm gonna show Nicolás. There's stuff about plants in there. Anyway...'

I squirm. Leaving the eraser at the corner of the whiteboard, I move back to my seat, hands tucked into my pockets.

'I thought about art college. And... maybe it's not such a rubbish idea. The one that's in Manchester, I mean, cause I'm not moving.'

Her face lights up as though I've offered to fund her a month-long holiday to Bali.

'The applications are probably closed already but–'