CECE, DISRESPECTFULLY | ✓

55: HARD TO SWALLOW

            We have to wait for the judges to count and recheck our point totals before they announce the winner. I follow Noah off the stage, my legs feeling like those bendy pencils I were always jealous of other kids having in primary school.

Adrenaline continues to scuttle in my arteries as I walk along the edge of the audience. I keep as far away from the crowd as possible. My arm grazes the wall. Each step is heavy.

Thankfully, Nicolás meets me halfway. Stares stick to him as he passes, like hair snagged in his accessories, but he don't seem to mind judging from the way he smiles. It don't show teeth but his gaze cradles me with warmth.

'You did so well.' He pulls me into a one-armed hug but retreats quickly to reveal a yellow orchid hidden behind his back. 'I got you this. Paid for and all.'

When I don't take it, he presses the rim of the plastic nursery pot into my chest. Even so, my hands are slow to grab onto it and do so only as an automated response my conscience disapproves of.

I stare down the cellophane cylinder. 'Er... why? We don't know the results yet.'

'But that's not the point. The point is that you're here and you tried your best.' He wipes summat off my cheek, a smudge of eyeliner or a streak from the whiteboard marker. 'You're doing well. You deserve to celebrate that. I'm proud of you.'

The statement scales my cheek like a draft and I turn away. I find instead his cluster of friends, still in their seats and animatedly discussing summat most likely entirely irrelevant.

'Your mates don't mind being here?'

Nicolás glances over his shoulder. 'Course not. They'll take any excuse to get to craft signs. Sides, we've sat through one of Rishi's Shakesqueer plays in the park during a hailstorm, so...' He waves a hand to dismiss himself. 'D'you wanna come say hi?'

I shake my head, affixing my focus to the yellow petals of the orchid.

'Alright,' Nikki soothes. 'That's alright. You don't have to.'

'Thanks for coming. You know, I–' my eyes flick up and drop again '–appreciate it. I appreciate you supporting me.'

'Of course,' he says, but there's a grouse of summat else in his voice. Guilt, maybe.

Or maybe it's my own guilt rousing in my gut. Because what is he proud for? I don't deserve it. We might have lost.

'Sorry but I've gotta go find Diwa.'

Nicolás assures me not to be sorry and rejoins his friends while I swivel around. Diwa's not on stage and I don't spot any pink in the crowd so I exit the hall.

The corridor is vacant and, as I get further from the doors and the chatter spilling from them, my footsteps begin to echo. The pale paint of the walls teeters somewhere between grey and blue, disorienting in it's ability to change on every step. I almost expect the crucifixes to turn over as I pass.

(Evil.)

I find Diwa in the entrance, a reassuring splash of pink in the greyscale of this school. Hugging herself, she studies the framed class photos hung on the wall. Her phone is in her hand. Waiting for a call or having just come off one?

Diwa glances at me when I stand beside her but says nowt before she returns to the photos. My gaze traces the mahogany frame in front of me, the text engraved at the bottom "Year 10, Class of 2014, St Aquinas Preparatory School".

'This is you.' She points at a withering face in the second row.

The grey uniform washes out my skin. In the picture, my hair is skinned to my scalp. Mrs Harland had no patience for the shoulder-length coils Lailah so carefully nurtured before I moved here. Bags blacken my eyes, similar in shade to the bruise on my jaw.

Unable to summon words, I nod.

'Is there a school in all of Greater Manchester you've not been expelled from?'

I bite down my grin. 'One or two.'

Her lips twitch upward but then her eyes find the yellow orchid resting against my shoulder. She focuses instead on the trophy case to display every victory of this school. There aren't many. St Aquinas might be posh but this is still Wigan.

'I'm sorry your parents didn't come. They should be here.'

'They have to work. It's not like they're on a beach drinking pina coladas. Money don't grow on trees.' She turns back to me, pinning up a smile—not to disguise her hurt but to thank me for seeing it. 'But yeah, it sucks.'

I'm sure Nicolás could be at work. Or at the gym. Or on a date. Or on a beach drinking pina coladas. But he always makes time for me, even when I push him away. How could I ever let Beewolf convince me his intentions aren't pure?

'Are you in a hurry back after this?' I ask. 'I know a place that'll make you feel better.'

Diwa raises her eyebrows, scepticism sketched across her features. But for once she decides to not listen to it. 'Okay.'

'C'mon.' I nod at the corridor. 'We need to get back. They'll be announcing the winner soon.'

            We win. We actually win.

Isaac Evans Community Academy, that's what the host just said. But it can't be... We only finished first in one out of four rounds. Don't make any sense.

It finally gets into my skull when Diwa knocks into me for a hug. We actually won. Won. Maybe "slowly but surely" isn't complete bollocks.

Somehow we manage to bring Noah and Meira into the hug while also bouncing with excitement. I forget the audience and the other teams, safe in a kaleidoscope of joy. Swear down, even Apostolou looks happy.

It's just a secondary school level maths olympiad in Manchester so it's not like we get some massive trophy but we do get ribbons and a picture taken for the local paper. The best price is the sour expressions of the St Aquinas kids when we shake their hands.

Nikki squeezes me into a congratulatory hug the moment I step off the stage.

'Ready to go?' He offers Diwa a smile. 'You need a ride?'

'Actually, we're gonna stay here.' Surprise licks at Nikki's face, maybe with a flicker of concern too. 'We'll get the bus back.'

'Alright.' Nicolás offers to take the orchid home with him so it don't get damaged with whatever possibly illegal and corrupting activities we're about to do. 'I'll see you later then. Congratulations both of you.'