Leaving London

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

On Tuesday, I'm in the midst of shoving a load of folders into my locker, when Mia dashes up behind me and tugs my ponytail, making my books scatter all over the floor in a jumbled mess.

"Hey, Fearne!" She exclaims, "You finished yet? I could do with a bit of cheering up."

"I will be when I've got rid of my folders. Why, what's wrong?" I frown, scurrying to collect all my folders, irritated.

"Oh...nothing...I'll tell you over a coffee or something." She grimaces, her smile vanished. One thing I absolutely hate is when someone won't tell you what's wrong. I mean, I'm going to try and help, not backstab!

"Aw, c'mon, I'll be able to help you, I'm sure. And, wait, coffee now?" I ask, puzzled.

"Yeah, we can just bunk off Maths and head down to get a drink..."

She trails off as she regards my doubtful face. I snag my lip. I've never skipped class before and I'm still seen as the new girl here - I want to raise my reputation as much as I can before our formal examinations start.

"Really? I've got three Maths lessons to nail these quadratic equations, I'm struggling and I don't want to have a tutor-"

"Fearne, it's one lesson. One. C'mon. For me." She looks quite distressed now, threading fingers through her hair and picking at her cuticles, distracted.

"I don't know..." I ponder.

"School's only just started, there's still people arriving, we can just slip out. We'll be back by second period I promise."

"Won't Lara wonder where we've gone?" I ask, fishing for excuses, although I'm subconciously securing my Maths books inside my bag, and tucking my pencil case back out of sight.

"Fearne. She doesn't have Maths with us, it will be fine. Just come on, we've got to go now before it's too late." She pleads, tugging on my sleeve and I follow her as she scarpers down the hallway towards the fire exit door, out into the fresh air.

I feel guilt settling over my heart, like glazed, thick icing drying over fluffy cupcakes. I shouldn't be doing this, neither of us should. I've never been one of these types of students - the ones who skip the classes they don't like and desire the rush of exhilaration that couples with bending the rules. I'm not like that. Well I wasn't, I suppose. I had perfect attendance, always kept on top of my homework and I'd always flush crimson if a hint of telling off came paired with my name - usually for passing notes or chatting with Kayla. Now though, things have changed, I suppose. I was never like this in London - I didn't skip the classes I didn't like and I never craved the rush of exhilaration coupled with bending the rules. But as we quietly click shut the fire door behind us and skirt down the edge of the courtyard towards the gates, the pumping of adrenalin through my veins is actually quite comforting, and exciting at the same time.

"To the gates?" I ask, pausing for breath as we both skid to a stop by the wall, waiting for the knot of young kids to stampede past, as a frenzied teacher follows, shouting that they need to go to reception to sign in to the late book.

"She'll return back to the gates any second, we'd better take the fence." Mia says, her eyes alive. And so I follow her as she scurries down to the fence outlining the front yard, stopping suddenly to look for the teacher.

"She's there!" I hiss, spotting her storming back down to the front gates, "Hurry!"

"Fearne, calm down!" Mia laughs, throwing a leg over the fence and hoisting herself over. I do the same, jumping down on the other side in one neat sweep.