Paper Cuts (COMPLETED)

Chapter Ten: Cafe Society

When I came into school on Monday morning I found it hard to suppress the sick feeling in my stomach as I remembered only a week before - when we had been ushered into the gym and told that Clara had killed herself. I shuddered as I passed the dark gym on my way through.

When I got to the locker corridor, I found a dense crowd of students surrounding Clara's old locker door. I pushed myself up onto my tip-toes to sneak a look, and found the four girls standing in a semi-circle with the rest of the sixth form behind them.

The locker was covered in baby-blue crepe paper and daisies, as well as pictures of Clara and handwritten messages on pastel sticky notes. I felt my breath catch as I beheld the locker. A teacher trudged down the corridor, handing out reprimands with every step for us to clear the path and get to class. The teacher, a frail sixty-year-old woman in a brown cardigan, stopped herself mid-scorn as she, too, saw Clara's locker.

Everyone seemed to stare and watch, and I felt a presence at my shoulder. I looked beside me to find Shiloh, looking on with everyone else.

"Hey," she said, with an uncertain smile. I smiled back.

--

I stared at my lunch on the table, steam condensing against the plastic film. I pushed it towards Matt, who punctured it with his fork almost instantly. Shiloh exchanged small talk about Manchester United with Matt, who listened on with an expression of pure awe.

Harry wasn't at school, having had a relapse of his virus. I pulled out my phone, and frowned at the top notification:

Today, 09:32
Lola
'Hey. Can you please meet me at the Mountain Cafe after school? I really need to talk.'

I frowned and began to text back a definite no, but then reconsidered. With everything that happened, what was the worst that could transpire? Would I be accused of killing Clara again? I wasn't sure if I would be able to deal with that anymore, but then again, it was Lola. She wasn't one to scream and shout without laying out some kind of diplomacy.

Indecision gave way to impulse, and I replied:

'Sure.'

I turned off my phone and shoved it back into my pocket, exhaling slowly as I sunk further into my chair.

--

The Mountain Cafe was one of those indie cafes that only university students with half-shaved heads and hipster glasses worked at. Yellow bulbs hung by long black cords from the industrial ceiling, and the smell of ground coffee beans filled my nose. The bang of the Portafilter on the coffee machines and the gurgled screech of the steam wand drowned out the chatter of young people as they sipped on their coffee.

I scrolled through every social media possible on my phone as I waited for Lola, slouching behind the light-wood table in the corner. Soon enough, Lola's short frame and ombre brown hair made an appearance in the doorway, and she found me as I put down my phone. My heart began to race as she came closer, anticipating what she was about to say.

She sat down across from me and smiled, taking me by surprise.

"Hi," I said, unsure whether or not to return the smile. I swallowed, though my throat was dry.

"Hey," she said back in her Dutch accent, "I'm sorry to be so mysterious, but I really needed to talk to you."

I gave a forgiving smile and a shrug.

"I'll just say it, then," she said, and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear as she bit her lip, looking out the window as she presumably gathered her thoughts.

"With all that happened to Clara, and everything Thea said at the funeral, I know that it's hurting you just as much as it is hurting us.

"I know that with all that has happened this past year, you probably want nothing to do with us. But since this isn't about that anymore, I want you to know that we are all here for each other, no matter what happened before."

I didn't know what to say. It felt as though I should be grateful for her wanting to reach out, but all I could feel was a growing sense of discomfort as the silence hung between us.

"Thanks," I said. It was pathetic, given her lengthy speech, but it was all I could muster. I stood shakily, and offered a grateful smile, but wasn't sure if she received that or my look of complete terror as I lurched for the cafe door and stepped out into the cold autumn air.

I didn't look back as I hurried for the tube station, hoping that it was all a dream, and knowing that it really wasn't.