Basorexia - J.MAGUIRE

[2.31] bus to belfast

Ciara walked into Erin's house, much later than she was supposed to have been there as they were on their way to a take that concert in Belfast, and was instantly met with the grumbles of Erin's grandad, "Why do they keep touching themselves?" Ciara's eyes widened as she sat down on the arm of the sofa, next to James who moved his arm to be behind her instead of resting on the surface as it had been before. The girls greeted her with smiles and Orla an enthusiastic wave.

"They're artists Grandad," Erin responded with a deep sigh.

"Dirty English bastards is what they are. No offence, son," Erin's grandad grumbled once again. James however seemed completely unbothered, attention focused elsewhere.

As the channel was switched, Erin's dad appeared out of nowhere already ready to leave for the concert. "Come on, girls. Time to hit the road here. Have they roped you into going as well son?"

Ciara sniggered softly, hiding it behind the sleeve of her jumper whereas Michelle laughed pretty loudly. "Roped in? Hardly. He's riding Gary Barlow," she grinned, nudging James in the ribs with her elbow.

James' voice came soft, almost as if he was getting bored of the constant ridicule of his cousin, "I'm not. I just respect him as a songwriter, that's all."

Chelle scoffed, "Aye, dead on James so you do."

"Is it not a bit early?" Erin asked her dad, redirecting the conversation once again.

"It's a two-hour drive with traffic, love."

"It's eight hours till the doors open..."

"Be back in a second," Ciara whispered to James, leaning just a little bit closer to him so as to not disturb the others. He nodded then she walked upstairs, heading to the bathroom. Ciara then sank onto the floor, placed her head in her knees to attempt to stop the sudden attack of dizziness that had felt awful sharp within her mind, like a blunt knife attempting to slice through her skull. Somehow, she did not know how or when it occurred as all memory of the action had vanished itself from her mind, Ciara managed to find herself leaning against the sink while she splashed water onto her face - luckily wearing pretty much waterproof makeup.

"Well, i'm not letting that fat furry fuck ruin the biggest day of my life!" Chip heard Michelle yell through the wall, leading her to somewhat stumble in that direction as the curiosity for what had happened beat her current pain. She had gotten pretty good at hiding it by now anyway.

"What's going on?" Chip asked quickly as soon as she entered the room, quickly shutting the door behind her so the adults downstairs did not hear the reply.

"Polar bear escaped the zoo, Ma's refusing to let us go," Erin explained with a deep disappointed sigh, flopping onto her bed.

"Right, so she is," Chip laughed softly, thinking that they were all joking.

"She's serious Chip," Chelle added, watching as her smile fell.

"Christ," she muttered, blinking a little too frequently. She was trying to fight the tears caused by the dizziness and was, thankfully, winning the battle. She just hoped no one would notice the wobbliness of her walk or the blurriness of her gaze. "What's the plan then? We're still going I take it?"

"Aye, of course."

"I'll kill that polar bear with my own hands if I have to!" Orla exclaimed enthusiastically, met with agreeing nods from everyone around.

Clare interrupted the minor celebration with another question, "What about our Ma's?"

Chelle grinned, "Simple. We lie our holes off."

-

Ciara strongly disliked the public buses, she hated the feel of all the eyes on her. So she was rather glad when the others walked straight to the back of the bus, sitting on the very back row. Instead of attempting to squish in, Ciara sat on the seat closest to the window on the second row back and was rather surprised and glad when James sat next to her without prompt. "We're going to get caught, I just know it!" Clare exclaimed almost as soon as the bus pulled off from the first stop. She could have at least waited a few minutes before even mentioning the risk of the situation.

"We're not going to get caught Clare because as far as our Ma's are concerned, me, you, Chip and James are round Erin's and Erin and Orla are round mine," Chelle explained quickly, her patience with the others starting to wear thin.

Orla frowned, "But we're not round yours, Michelle. We're on the bus to Belfast."

"What's in the suitcase, Michelle?" James quickly interrupted to prevent Chelle from snapping at Orla all over again. It had already happened twice already and each time the flare up had only been more severe.

"Vodka."

"You brought an entire suitcase full of vodka?"

"No! There's mixers as well. I'm not a savage," Michelle paused momentarily, voice quieting drastically. "You can mix vodka with cider, right?"

"Aye but it's not too grand on the way back up," Chip commented, turning around to face the group to feel more involved in the conversation. In doing so, she accidentally placed her hand on the top of James'. The pause that followed before she retraced her hand was far too long and there was far too much within it. Unspoken words all swimming in the look that the two of them shared, the warmth of his hand then the coldness afterward. They both smiled softly and awkwardly as she pulled away her hand, both their gazes snapping to the girls in order to hide away.

As Michelle grimaced at the thought of that concoction of alcohol, they all stopped their chatter as Sister Michael stepped onto the bus and walked directly towards them - as if she actually wanted a conversation with the students she supposedly loathed. With a story of a trip to a museum, the girls felt as if they could somewhat relax as Sister Michael was sitting far enough away that she would not hear their conversation.

"God, I'm sweltering here," Clare grumbled, tugging at her dozens of layers that were supposed to a sort of makeshift spy gear.

"Then take it off?"

"I can't take it off, i've nothing underneath it."

"What, not even a bra?" Erin asked loudly, looking rather outraged as she peered at Clare judgingly.

"I haven't got a bra on," Orla added with a soft grin, only adding to Erin and Chelle's shared outrage by the idea of going braless.

"Me neither," Chip shrugged, instantly accepting Orla's high five across the seats. She didn't see much point in wearing the uncomfortable things, given that she was barely even an a cup and always wore baggy clothing anyway - another side effect of her disorder.

James sighed aggravatedly, frowning deeply, "Can everyone stop saying bra?"

Ciara turned to him, still facing the back of the bus as she laughed, "Why you gonna burst into flames if we say it three times fast?"