Leaving London

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

"Hey, where were you last night?" Mia's voice cuts through my daydream. We're currently sat in Maths class, and have just been assigned our homework. The homework here is awful - we get three pieces a day! Have they not heard of a social life before?

"Didn't you get my text? I was at the beach." I say, scribbling in my planner.

"Oh, you should've called me! I'd have come down to meet you." She smiles openly.

"I...I was having a surfing lesson, so I was busy..." I gulp, remembering the searing trace of Olli's fingers down my cheek, and snaking round my hand, the fizzle I felt as his skin contacted with mine. I feel my cheeks burning up so I speedily shake off that thought and replace it with algebraic formulae.

"Really? Olli was down there too, we could have all had a get together!" She squeals.

"I was busy," I roll my eyes, "If you must know, Olli was teaching me and my brother to surf." I see a flicker of something flash across Mia's face at the mention of his name, but she doesn't question anything, just shrugs. I sigh in relief.

"Just don't be getting with my boyfriend, eh?" Mia giggles, nudging me. I half-heartedly show a wisp of a smile, but my heart races underneath my shirt.

"Girls!" The teacher leers, "No, don't let me ruin your little chat. It's not like you're here, in school, to learn."

"Sorry." I gulp, shifting my gaze down to my book, which earns a few snickers from around the room.

"Don't let it happen again. Now get back to your work!" She snaps, as I turn, humiliated, back to a page of algebra. Fun.

Things worsen as I get home, confronted by Jake and Olli sat in the kitchen together over some sort of coursework. Olli makes a big deal of greeting me, saying 'hey' and trying to catch my gaze.

"Mum will be back in ten minutes to make dinner." Jake informs me, as I stomp my way through to the living room without making eye contact. Ugh. Why did Olli have to come over?

I hide up in my room for a while, dragging my duvet over me and lying there with my laptop. I don't know how long I stay curled up; my hearing muffled by the soft covers, but I'm eventually disturbed when my door swings open and I lazily sit up.

"Fearne, why didn't you come down? I've been calling you for your tea!" Mum says, a tea towel draped in her hands. I pull my hair off my face.

"I don't feel like it right now." I lie, "I...I'm ill." She's immediately by my side, pressing a hand to my forehead.

"Aw, sweetie, you do feel a bit warm. I'll bring you up a tablet and your food." She turns to leave, and returns with a tray of ravioli, water and an aspirin.

"Thanks...it's probably just from stress." I tell her, "Y'know...school..."

"Why, is everything okay at school love?" I know my Mum. If I tried to tell her about that group of girls, or about feeling like an outsider, she'll just worry. Even now, her face is scrunched into a weary expression and her frown lines have appeared. We used to be closer, I used to tell her every single detail of my day until she'd be fed up or bored. But not now, I find it too awkward to share much unless it's to my friends.

"No, Mum! Everything's okay, I could do with a bit of rest though."

"Okay, shout me if you need anything." She doesn't seem satisfied with my answer, but retreats back out of my room anyway.

Once I am left by myself again in my little sanction of pillows and covers, I tuck into the thick-cut pasta squares as if I haven't eaten for a week. I feel bad lying to my Mum, maybe I should've been honest about school...but I don't want to worry her. This is New Zealand! Our new home! We all need to be happy, right?