Leaving London

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

By Friday, things have changed. It slowly dawns on me that it's the last time I will see my friends, walk down the Maths corridor, get shouted at by Mrs Langdale and have to choke down stale sandwiches in the canteen - because I will be leaving in less than two days. In the past few days, I've been taken shopping in Covent Garden after school with Eve and Kayla (Amy mumbled something about a family event and refused to come), where I purchased new sunglasses and a pineapple crop top for New Zealand, and all of our stuff has been piled into two colossal removal vans and kept in storage until Sunday. Last night I had arranged with Alfie for us to meet up at the local shopping centre. We had a laugh; he introduced me to his favourite place for food - the small Indian restaurant tucked away behind a clothes shop - and we just hung around for a bit. He told me that he'd asked his parents about the leaving party, and he could make it.
I've also helped arrange the leaving party for this evening - piling crisps and drinks in the living room, and handing out invites, and whispering excitedly in Biology with Kayla and Eve who have promised to come home with me after school, to get ready. Amy, however, gets handed an invite, regards it as if it's going to give her the flu, and mumbles away to Eve about being busy, but maybe popping by later to see her and Kayla. Well then.

I pretend not to be upset, watch as Amy shrugs on her jacket and heads over to her next lesson, but I can't help feeling rejected. Like somehow, that when it came down to it, I discovered who my real friends were, and who wasn't. In Maths I catch myself watching her chatting away with Kayla, without a care in the world. She's swishing her golden hair and her cornflower eyes open wide with amusement as she giggles along with something Kayla has just said. I feel my stomach grating, my mouth sinking into a frown.

However, I smear a plastic smile on my face as I receive goodbyes, good lucks, and the odd bracelet or bar of Galaxy, which I accept with gratitude. It reminds me that for every person who doesn't care, there are several that do. This makes me feel lifted, so my smile becomes genuine.

∞

My final lunchtime is spent on the front field, where we sit in the dappled sunlight, and I can tell Kayla and Eve are trying really hard to make me feel better. They keep trying to crack jokes, to make me laugh, but it doesn't really work. I just sit shivering in the cold breeze, trying to keep the smile from falling off my face. It seems that overnight everyone has suddenly heard that I'm uprooting and leaving, because in every lesson I've had quite a few people asking me if its true, and heard quite a few whispered conversations mentioning the words 'Fearne' and 'New Zealand'. It's all a bit much if you ask me, I mean sure it's pretty surprising to find out a classmate is travelling around to the other side of the world, but still, it's pretty pathetic how it's become the gossip in the corridors. Even a whiff of some sort of interesting gossip here spreads like wild fire over dry bracken. By the time it circulates back round to my ears again, there's been mutations. Some people ask me if it's true that I'm transferring over to a New Zealand boarding school for a year, and there's even a rumour that I'm leaving because of something to do with Amy? I'm guessing they're referring to mine and Amy's argument, but seriously? Why would I leave the country because of that?

"So, what are you guys wearing tonight?" I ask warmly, whilst deftly lacing daisies together to make a bracelet. Engulfing my brain by keeping myself busy seems to be the best way to make sure my spirits remain lifted.

"The dress I got for my birthday, you know, the spotty one," Kayla informs me, "I brought some hair curlers as well!" One thing you should know about Kayla, is her hair skills - her ability to turn even my tumble of caramel strands into a delicate plait or a decadent bun, within only a couple of minutes.

"Good idea!" Eve says, "I'm just gonna wear jeans and a top I think, what about you, Fearne?"

"I don't know yet, actually," I admit, and wrap the daisy chain around my wrist, "I wonder if Amy will actually come." A sigh escapes my lips, hovering down to flutter over my wrist in a slight breeze. The daisies are pretty much dead anyway, curled up and wilted from the late October sun, but the softer stems made it easier for me to thread them.