THE WESTBURY HIGH FILES

Two /Harry

'I fucking hate Thursdays.' I stared at the ceiling fan, feeling alone. I may as well have that as my alarm for every day of the week. I fucking hate Mondays, I fucking hate Tuesdays, I fucking hate Wednesdays. I shuffled deeper under my covers. I could hear Dad moving about downstairs. I hated getting up when Dad was still home. Glaring phone in my face, I checked the time. 5:46 stung my eyes, I rubbed the stars away and rolled over. Avery would still be sleeping. I heard the front door close, followed by a car door and an engine igniting. I sat upright, face up against my window. I watched the car turn out of sight before I slipped on my slippers, manoeuvring through my room, collapsing into routine. I fucking hate Thursdays.

I went downstairs.

I ate a bowl of cereal.

Made a sad sandwich.

Shrugged my uniform on.

I was in my room again, guitar ready to play. My hands were stiff cold so I stuffed them in my pockets. Teeth clenched, my brain finally awoke. Why does it take so long for your brain to awaken? I could physically be awake for hours before my brain finally jolts awake and be present. I needed to practice, but my hands were cold and I was thinking about Gina. I don't remember the best of her. She was the pianist in ensemble, I would stand at the back next to her with my electric guitar. I remembered rolling my eyes at her every time she messed up. She just smiled and shook her head. I did remember her being a good pianist, or maybe I'm just pretending I remember that to try and make her better than she was. No — she was a good pianist; she was in senior ensemble. I didn't like thinking about Gina and how I'll never roll my eyes at her again, so I plucked a steady slow rhythm. I was waiting for the zoning out, letting the rhythm take over, but it never came.  I was too absorbed. I needed a numbing distraction.

            I felt around my blankets for my phone, watching the time tick over from 6:34 to 6:35 as I clicked it on. Avery should be up by now, I didn't check. I went to Tumblr instead. I usually don't go to Tumblr when in distress, I had a CD collection and a good set of headphones for that. Nevertheless, I was scrolling the unofficial school Tumblr. It had blown up after the news of Gina's death had streaked through the school. It was fucking bullshit posts. I'm going to miss her so much she was such an amazing person so wonderful I knew her so well we were so close I love her so much she was a wonderful amazing brilliant fantastic superb interesting kind great and good person okay, I'm overdoing it. But it was along those lines. I didn't take any of it in, the school Tumblr was infamous for being shit. I wondered if Avery had seen it. I hovered my finger over the call button. I decided against it. I'll see her in a couple of hours anyway.

6:45 and I'm walking to school. I didn't take the tram that morning, I think it was because I liked the autumn sunrise. Or maybe it was the distraction I needed.

—       

I could hear Billie practising her solo in the second practice room, I gave her a nod as I passed. She saluted back as she ended on a low riff, or whatever it's called when you sing a riff.

            'Gooood morning Harry,' Billie smiled, following me to the instrument storeroom. 'How you doin'?' She leant against the doorframe, arms crossed and snapback on backwards.

            'Absolutely superb, the sun is shining, the birds are singing and!' I exclaimed, 'It's a fucking Thursday.' I deadpanned, Billie snorted.

            'Every day is another fuckin' day for you, right?' She adjusted the height of a music stand as we sat around the upright piano. 'You been reading the blog?' Everyone knew the Westbury gossip blog. It was a hell hole of broken friendships and backstabbing ass hats.