Dregs

1

Everyone else can hate me for it, but I have always loved Mondays. They're like a fresh start, time and time again, the beginning of a new time in your life where you can be someone else, make better decisions, preferably not ones that end with you being watched by not only the police but also - you can sense it, no matter how much the police tell you that no one knows where you are - by Them. I decided, as soon as I moved to London, that every Monday I was going to make a change. One small thing after the other, until by the time the next year rolled around I would have changed half of a hundred things about myself.

Maybe that would make me someone completely new. Someone who wasn't a victim and wasn't in hiding, either.

So, this Monday. The start of the week before winter social for everyone who actually had a life. The chance for the rest of us to ignore the perfect people storming past with fervour in their eyes about the newest lot of leaflets coming out of the photocopier, and instead dye our hair bright red. This was one of my more unoriginal changes, that's something I can admit. But really, I was running out of things and it had been just two weeks so far.

It happened when I was walking to registration. A glimpse of the school's oh-so-famous bad boys which left the majority of the girl population drooling for more. I would like to say I was not in that majority, but let's be real. I'm no different to the next girl when it comes to admiring black hair and abs from afar.

This time was different though. As I pretended indifference, leaning against some locker and pulling my hood up to cover up the crimson that had seemed like a good idea at the time, Chet turned and actually looked at me. I stood so still, I nearly fell over. Once I stopped blushing (and freaking out over whether the fact that he looked at me could have  meant that he was, in fact, one of Them and after me), I carried on my merry way to registration. Alone. No friends for Jasmine.

Becca had been different. Becca had had friends, and a place on the winter social committee. Becca would never have thought twice about Chet, because she had a loyal and beautiful boyfriend who would always be enough for her.

The thought of Jason turned my stomach, and I quickened my steps along. Not quick enough, though. I was late, and the new girl who slouches in her chair without an attempt to pick up the pen doesn't get a free pass. Detention. Yes. Of course I would turn up.

To explain something: Jasmine Keller (me) is not a bad person. It's just that she used to be someone very different, who cared about stuff like school, and now that she's not that person anymore, it can be hard to start caring again. There is nothing I would like more than for things to back to how they were. But because they won't, there isn't much point pretending.

Maybe that's how it always is. Maybe I'm not special. Maybe all over the world, other girls and boys are finding out that it is so hard to concentrate on your A levels once you've killed someone.