"I wish you would stop acting as if you don't know what's going on" she hissed at the boy next to her, who's name she hadn't yet bothered to learn. It was the fifth day back at school so Finn's fifth day of year 11, her last year, she reminded herself every other second, savouring the idea of leaving. So far, she'd had an English lesson everyday, and although she adored the subject, she was fed up of her tedious class members, especially the new boy who she'd had to sit next to because, once again, inexplicably, she had arrived late. During their first lesson of the term, she had thought him to be a trademark, no-good class clown who thrived off attention, for when her teacher asked him a simplistic question he replied with "I can't read Shakespeare" which seemed to amuse most of the class. Finn read the smile wrong, misreading shy embarrassment for a cocky smirk, further confirming that he was conceited. Finn just rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide the disdain on her face. Many a time she had been sat with the member of the class that seemed the least bothered (something that most of her peers seemed to be trying to accomplish), and she had tried to inspire them and spark in them an interest in literature not unlike her own, and on countless occasions she had failed miserably, retreating behind a book. Now she resolved to simply stop caring. However, annoyingly, this boy seem different. The well structured and surprisingly detailed notes that he took every lesson challenged even her own thoroughly written observations, and didn't quite match the lazy version of himself that he was presenting to the school.
He had caused a bit of a stir, especially with the girls. Anticipating the arrival of the new kid is part of the fun. If they're good looking, an eruption of gossip spreads out for the following days. If they're really good looking this continues for long, tedious weeks. Unfortunately, a lot of girls had taken to Alexavier, whose name just added to the ridiculous illusion that he was a prince come to rescue the damsel in distress, who was apparently every giggling, fantasising girl in Finn's year group, save for a select few (herself included) who saw past this exaggerated, and obviously false, character.
The one thing that struck her was the way that this boy hadn't picked his princess yet. At first, Finn assumed he was just waiting for the right girl, her cynical nature presumed he was looking for the prettiest, but after witnessing one encounter in particular she realised she may have been mistaken.
Finn noticed that every lunch time so far Alexavier has sat alone. By choice. It isn't like he hadn't had offers, but everyday he sits and just watches the people around him; he talks and shows the smile that Finn is still convinced is false if he has company but generally people get the message. Still, on his third day, Alyssa Coles joined him at his solitary canteen table. Alyssa is traditionally beautiful. She has the kind of chrome blonde locks that spiral down to her shoulder blades and fall perfectly every day to frame the blue eyes that seem to make just about everyone fall in love with her. She's extraordinarily popular despite having the personality of a brick, and an IQ to match. It probably helps that she has the kind of body that could be seen staggering down the catwalk in Luis Vuitton heels. Alyssa swans her way across the canteen flashing a grin as bouncy and bright as her hair and swishes over to Alexavier where she gracefully takes a seat and bats her eyelids at him. He grins back politely and says a quiet hello and she smiles more and it just all looks very bloody happy and pretty and just irritating, to be blunt. Finn thinks 'this is it, he's finally fallen'. But then, just as her opinion of him takes a nose dive off of the already low bridge it is balancing on, Alexavier politely excuses himself and exits the canteen leaving Alyssa looking rather like she's sucking on a lemon but trying to smile at the same time. Oddly, Finn feels a real pang of pity for her right then, for just about the first time, and taking advantage of the way that she grudgingly gets on with just about everyone because she figures there's only a few months of this daily monotony left, she goes and joins the irritating blonde bombshell at her table.
Finn delicately picks her way across the rubble that has taken the place of the pretty, roomy, two-storey, four-bedroomed house that she used to call her home. It hasn't been too tricky for her to adapt, all she ever does is get on with things. Her family, however, aren't so steadfast. Two months, and her grieving father and fanciful younger sister still haven't taken it upon themselves to crawl up from the basement to surface level and assess the damage done to the world themselves but she also struggles to blame them for their absolute uselessness because both have always been the type to wait for a solution rather than go out and make one. Naturally, Finn takes after her mother, whereas her sister, Ava, (regrettably) inherited their fathers traits. And Finn knows that Sammy, her mum, would never want to see her as the shrinking violet that it would be easier to become. Therefore, everyday, Finn throws her long, chestnut hair into a bun, drags on an old striped shirt of her fathers, yanks the laces of her tattered trainers into place, and proceeds to climb the creaking ladder that takes her to the desolation outside and helps to re-build a community that she never really felt comfortable in anyway because if she remained inside with her lonely, helpless family she imagines that she would lose her mind with worry.
In Cambridge where she lives very few people have ventured outside of their safe basements and dug-outs because of what everyone seems to be frightened of: a different world. All of the perfect buildings, pristine libraries and prestigious colleges are torn to the ground and Cambridge is what every other place has become, nothing. A pile of rubble where the fragments of idyllic human life lay destroyed and nobody is defined any more by social ranking or money because nothing but survival matters and no-one gives a damn what your job is. Finn cleans, communicates and transports bundles of medicine, food and water to the homeless. This means the people with out basements. Technically, every person is homeless now but if they're healthy and not desperate enough to come out and fetch food that is available for themselves, it isn't an option to have it delivered by a volunteer. Finn is part of a very small community that has been set up to restore a little fluidity back into people's lives. The benefits of this is that she brings food to her family and, through the higher members of the community who have connections, she can receive any letters sent to her immediately which, if she's honest with herself, is the most influential reason that she's so eager to help. Since she doesn't know where Alex is as he was travelling with his parents when the disaster struck, it is impossible to write, but she can hope. She feels that she would know if he were dead; she knows that she'd feel the hole he would leave in her life like a gun shot through her heart. She hates to admit it, but he's her weakness and she's excellent at blocking out emotion, she's had enough practice, but each night when she listens to her sister shuffling on her camp bed, her fitful sleep tossing her dreams around inside of her head, Finn buries her face in a moth eaten blanket and gives in to her fear, letting her silent sobs wrack her body until her blind terror exhausts her and she joins her sibling in a restless sleep.
