Good Luck Anna

Self Care

 Trudging into maths class I slump into my chair next to my best friend Becca, our other friends Lindsey and Ellen fill out the row. The two of them are in deep conversion about something that clearly doesn't interest Becca as she gives me her full attention as soon as I arrive.

  "How was your weekend darling." Tears are already filling my eyes before I even lay eyes on her, I give my head a shake in a pathetic attempt to clear them but ultimately fail.

  "Settle down kids!" Mrs Sneddon bellows over the rabble of our class.

   "Shit, I will get us out of here, OK?" Becca whispers while I'm seriously regretting cutting off all my hair as I could really use a curtain to hide behind right now.

  "Miss, Anna is feeling sick. Can I take her to the nurse please." Keeping my head down begging she doesn't ask me any questions or I might have a another very public breakdown.

  "Of course, you can, but come right back miss O'Brien, we need to have words about your last test." Becca sighs dragging me to my feet with ease.

  Mrs Sneddon is too busy confiscating a phone to notice Becca picking up her bag while we leave. Thank fuck I don't foresee myself being in any fit condition to let her go anytime soon.

  Stumbling behind her mane of poker straight ash blonde hair. Becca is so damn tall and beautiful she could be a model, its truly a waste that the whole world doesn't get to witness her perfect features.

  I don't even need to ask where she is dragging me to, the bathroom on the third floor is our designated "breakdown zone."

   The west wing third floor bathroom is rarely used since its just admin and the staff room up there, most people don't even know that a toilet is up here, so we've commandeered it for whenever we need to have a meltdown away from prying eyes.

    Becca checks the stalls, all I can do is cry, once she deems us alone she wraps me in a tight hug, smushing my face straight into her double D's.

  "Is this turning you on?" Becca asks curiously.

  A gargled laugh erupts from me, "sorry no it's not"

  She huffs dramatically, "God you Thomson children are impossible to please."

  I continue my slightly insane giggling when saying "Aw, Becca you always know how to make me smile."

  Glowing proudly I'm pulled back into another crushing hug. "Thanks, it's one of my many talents, who has upset you this early in the day? Does my hockey stick need to be put to use again?"

  Becca's hockey stick was already put to good use at the start of the year when Sean Patrick snapped my V card then told all his friends about it. 

  After a lot of persuading, she was willing to let it go, until I mistakenly told her how little care he had taken with me and when I told her that he left me to clean up the mess myself –while he left to go meet his friends- that is when she went nuclear.

  That dickheads car didn't stand a chance she wrecked it and her hockey stick in the process. When she informed her dad the reason for needing a new one, he bought her the best one on the market as a reward.

  We both settle on the counters next to the sinks before I recount every shitty thing that happened this weekend. I even tell her about being a total bitch to Alex, knowing that she would never judge me but hoping that she does, to ease some of the guilt churning in my chest.

   When done its blatantly clear that Becca is fizzing with rage. She had to get up and pace the length of the bathroom when I got to dad punching Alex and hasn't sat down since.