THE WESTBURY HIGH FILES

Six /Amelia

And it was the way he just said thanks and left that made me stop. It was another friendship that didn't fall through. I watched him leave. My phone buzzed, it was a text from an old friend.

Charlie — hey chicky, saw some wild stuff about a bucket list on the Westbury high blog, ya gotta complete it with me!

I ignored it. The bucket list was none of my business. I wasn't born to fulfil others dreams. I lay on the field behind the school. It was slightly damp but the sun was out for the first time in a week or so. I felt lonely, but not in a sad way. Sometimes I wished I would cry. Just to know that I did feel lonely, the proper lonely, not the just feeling alone type lonely. I was disrupting a soccer game happening, a year nine was yelling at me to move. In a nice way, though.

I moved and watched the game span out across lunch.

The bell rang and I had class to go to.

—

Starting a new school goes like this: two weeks of getting to know your classmates, teachers, the flow of the school. Which toilets are the better toilets. What food to order at the canteen. Which people you like. By the third week, you've decided which group you're going to attach yourself to. By week four you have their phone numbers, know general interests and talk regularly. By mid-March, you should be so ingrained in the ways of the school no one remembers you're the new kid.

I fucked it up though.

It was mid-May and I had fucked up yet another perfectly good friendship. I don't even know how. I don't think Harry liked me. I don't think Avery liked me either. I don't know. Maybe I was getting too much in my head. Not to mention an old friend kept trying to get in contact with me. I wanted to smash my phone, no one would find me. It would be better that way.

I was on one of my many runs. I liked to run; the suburbs were pretty and the creek was calming. Ma was cooking dinner, usually we got take out, she was cooking tonight and I was happy. She worked a lot. And I was banned from cooking after the spaghetti incident. I smiled to myself, letting my feet pace down the pathway. It was getting dark. I did a u-turn and started up the hill. Starting a new school required being good at friendships; I was always a shitty friend. I'd never call you on your birthday. I'd buy a present a day late, but lie and say that I had left it at home so you'd think I was a good friend. When I'm not. Probably why Harry and Avery hated me.

I'm being stupid, I could make it work.

I could make this friendship work.

I needed a plan.

—

            'Amelia, you're all sweaty and gross, can you at least shower before dinner?' Ma was serving okra soup.

            'Aw Ma I'm famished, just a little sneak of dinner?'

            'Hell no 'Melia, you'll go shower.' Ma raised her eyebrows at me.

            'K Ma, whatever you say.' I smiled toothy. She rolled her eyes and went back to her soup. I love Ma. She works so hard, Dad left when I was five. He lives ages away and I barely see him now. I towelled myself dry and debate whether putting my hair in twists. But dinner was almost ready and I didn't have an hour to spare. I liked my natural curls anyway. Ma always said I'd look good with it in a weave but there's no way I'll let a flat iron near my curls. Spent way too long getting them as healthy as they are.

            'I pray for my girl Amelia to find her footing at school, god knows it's been this long.' Ma was saying Grace. I wasn't catholic but when you're under this roof you be grateful for what God has given you, so I guess I'm not catholic until my Ma says I am. I don't mind it, it's more for her than for me. Makes her feel like I'm going to be guided and heading into a good life.

            'I pray this meal is so good, so damn good oh my god I'm so hungry for some good food.'

            ''Melia. Say a proper grace.' Ma gave me a look

            'I pray Ma is healthy and happy for a long time 'cause I love her so.' I gave a cheeky smile.

            'Thank you.' Ma slurped up a spoonful of soup. 'Really Amelia, are you doing okay at school? This move was your idea; I just want to know that you're making friends and doing well.'

            'Yes Ma, I'm fine.' I didn't meet her eye. 'I guess I'm not very good at making friends is all.'

            'You were the lone wolf type of kid.' Ma agreed. 'Maybe you just need to stick to yourself this year, get some good grades, get into a good uni. Give yourself a drive, baby.'

            'Yeah, Ma. I'm trying.'

            'I know you are baby.'

—

I had it all planned: Avery was the silent achiever; Harry was the band geek. They liked conspiracy theories and ghosts. Urban legends...and cryptids. I drew it out on a piece of paper, hunched over my desk. Harry on one side, Avery the other. What did I know about them already? I knew Avery did debating, she wore her badge proudly. By the looks of it, she must polish it as well. Harry was the electric guitarist and occasionally bassist. I've never seen him play acoustic, he sticks to jazz. I assume. Harry always looks a nervous wreck and Avery looks like she has an assignment due the next day. Where do I fit in?

I drew a cross through the page. I was going about this the wrong way.

Ghost stories. I said I'd read up on ghosts. Learn their language. Slipping into friendship groups required talent and commitment. I would be the best friend. The very best.

My phone buzzed. I saw the message glow on the screen, I was tempted to answer it. But the wound was still red; it didn't need salting. They didn't care before; they shouldn't care now. I looked back at my computer screen. Flittering between articles of The Salem Witch trials, the more I dug into ghosts and the supernatural the more I felt like Harry and Avery were haunting me. Not the other way around.

'Amelia, you should be getting to bed.' Ma said in her gentle voice.

'Sure thing Ma.'

'You better not be getting messages from those girls again,' She poked her head around my door; she looked tired, 'yes, I am psychic, delete their numbers or something. You left that world behind, I want you to have a proper fresh start. Now get some sleep.' The light switch echoed in my brain, the glow of the computer screen leaving me alone in a dark room.

'Sure thing Ma.' A whisper alone. No one was listening to my voice; did it even exist?