THE WESTBURY HIGH FILES

Seven /Avery

Naomi was trying to convince me that completing the bucket list was a good idea. Naomi would jump in front of a bus for someone she's been friends with for a week. Loyalty was key, was what she often said. I'll see, but it's not likely. Was my response. I was a little disgusted by the bucket list.

            Amelia hadn't joined us for lunch, I was kind of sad about that. Not in a sad-sad way, the small bit of hope for a new friend sad way. That was sad, so I stop thinking about it. I was going to tell Naomi about Amelia, I stopped myself knowing her response. She was a natural at friendships; I did not want her coaching me.

It was getting late. By late meaning late for me; ten-thirty. I'm usually asleep by ten. In contrast, Harry, who barely got to bed before three in the morning, on a good day. I left my phone on the nightstand, the glare was giving me a headache. I picked up a book instead. I was too tired, or perhaps distracted, the words barely made it from the page to my brain. Amelia, the curly-haired, glowing girl; something was off about her. She seemed nice, but Avery could feel this invisible barrier she was holding up.

Amelia: a pretty face and a full laugh.

Who didn't believe in ghosts.

Harry and I have only had two people join our duo in the past. One of them was Joey in primary school. He ended up pressuring us to throw stones at the principal. Sasha was the other, they were sweet and kind, but their mother forced them to move to the girl's school even though they weren't a girl. I keep in touch with Sasha, try to at least. They were keeping a low profile until they finished high school. Get into a good uni. Finally, be themself. Amelia wasn't like Sasha. Sasha was soft spoken and thoughtful and open-minded and kind. Amelia was wide eyed and ready. Maybe she just wanted a friend. I wondered if she knew about the bucket list. If she'd complete anything off of it. Sleep shrouded me as I wondered if I made Amelia up and she was an angel that had come down to bless her and Harry with her presence. Perhaps she was a ghost and the non-ghost believer was a cover story. I wanted to share these theories with Harry, but my brain was already half unconscious. 

—

The winter school uniform was never warm enough and the jumpers were always too itchy from the wool and polyester it was made of. Cold months were hell for Westbury High. The week was a blur of students getting caught doing graffiti, a lot of shouting and running and mourning. Friday had rolled around in a storm of rain and hail the size of lemons.  A sea of umbrellas flooding through the gates into the schoolyard, the rain hadn't eased for two days, making the students even more restless. I, soaked to the bone, stupidly left home without my umbrella, it's fucking cold, you stupid fuck, I dashed across the yard. Harry, on the other hand, was asleep at the drum kit in the music room, warm and dry next to the heater.

            'You've got a nice cosy relationship with that drum kit,' I said slumping into the nearest chair.

            'Arnold is my dear boyfriend; I treasure him with all my heart.' Harry stroked one of the symbols looking up at me with a sleepy smile. 'Could you do me a favour and grab me a coffee? I'm dying over here.' He rooted through his pocket in search of some loose change. I rolled my eyes but gave him a look of alright then you sleep deprived fool. Harry just closed his eyes and shook his head softly. 'See you on the other side.' He mumbled, tracing a finger over the high hat.

            I stood in the line to the canteen which had curved around onto the deck. The rain was plummeting down. Umbrellas weren't enough to shield me from the storm. The coffee at the school was dirt. It tasted like it, and that was enough to turn me away from it. Harry, on the other hand, could drink anything with caffeine by the gallon. It was a problem. A short blonde girl was standing in front of me, I remembered her name as something like Rebecca or Ruby, one of the two. She was loud and opinionated, but sweet. She had her right arm linking with another girl, taller, but equally loud.

            'I think this bucket list thing is like, a bad idea, but it's not the worst, I mean, what? The school can't say, like, no or something. I mean whatever and all, but it's not gonna stop anyone from doin the bucket list. It's like all we have right now. Ya know?' Rebecca spoke fast, she was good at it.

            'That's true an' all, but like, the bucket list shouldn't even be allowed, it's like, promoting drinking and drugs and such, it's not like it's gonna be allowed. Hammord will just cancel it or something.' Her friend said.

            'But that's not how it works, it's not a club, it's not like he can cancel it like he can cancel a club, it's just this game. Can he cancel a game? I mean maybe, like he could cancel footy, but like this isn't like that, you know?'

            'But they can't cancel the Bucket List, cos it's all about mourning and such. So, it's gotta stand or there's gonna be a riot.'

            'More like a revolution knowing this school.' The two girls laughed, heads bobbing up and down. I sighed with relief as the line moved forward and I was indoors. I didn't know what this Bucket List game was, but I knew it was no good news. Westbury High wasn't exactly the top school in the state, it had links to quite a few drug problems and bullying cases. One of them being Harry's from a couple of years ago. I knew Rebecca and her friend was right, this Bucket List was going to tear this school apart. I ordered the coffee, cupping it in both hands to steal the tiny amount of warmth I could and shuffled back to the music room. Taking the long route around. I stuck to the indoor areas. No one had any idea that the bucket list was going to be this big, half a week had passed and people were still talking about it. Any longer and someone would get hurt.