Dance Your Troubles Away

Chapter Eight - Lily

Chapter Eight

Lily

"The dance is over, the applause subsided, but the joy and feeling will stay with you forever." - W.M. Tory

I haven't spoken to Leah and Kara for a week, but I know that it's time to face them, and talk to them, if they'll let me. I've changed so much over the course of this week (for the better, I hope) that I feel like a completely different person than the one I was when I was best friends with them. Seriously. I'm not looking forward to this.

"Hey, Leah, Kara, have you got a moment?" I ask, stopping them as they walk into the lunch hall with their trays of food. I usually eat on my own now, since the Art gang have a different lunch time, but it's okay by me. Apparently, sitting on your own at lunch isn't social death anymore. In fact, it's considered cool. I get a lot of attention, from obnoxious guys especially, and most of it is unwanted. I bring a book or a sketchpad to lunch with me most days, and sit with my sandwich, drawing and reading for the full hour, if I manage not to get interrupted.

Leah and Kara stop, looking surprised, and, if I'm not totally imagining it, a little pleased. We haven't talked for so long that they probably thought that was it for our friendship, but I don't want to break things off without talking it through first.

"Shannon, go save our table," Kara orders, and Shannon scurries away, her earrings jingling ostentatiously. The three of us sit down at an empty table and stare at our plates of food, while I try to remember what on earth I was planning on saying.

"What are you reading?" Leah asks, picking up the book on my tray to read the title. I know it's just small talk.

"It's about Andy Goldsworthy," I start cautiously. "It's really... interesting." I stop there, seeing in their faces that they are far from interested.

"So why did you want to talk to us?" Kara asks, all of a sudden looking a little vulnerable. Leah leans forward in her seat a bit.

"I just wanted to say..." I swallow. Now I feel like a horrible person. "I just feel like we've grown apart recently. We've been great friends, and we've had so much fun together and everything, but I don't think you know who I am anymore." I clear my throat awkwardly, then say in a quieter tone, "And I don't think you care."

"So you're dumping us?"

"I'm not dumping you. Of course we'll stay friends." Maybe. "But I don't feel like I fit in with your group anymore."

"And where do you fit in?" Leah asks. "On a table on your own in the lunch hall?"

"I fit in where I'm happy. And yes, sometimes that is on a table on my own in the lunch hall."

"Fair enough," Kara shrugs. There's a silence. They both stand up in unison. "Well, it was nice being friends with you, Lily Forrest." She holds out a hand for me to shake, and I hate the formality of it so much that I have to hug her instead. At first she stiffens, but then she hugs me back. She smells like a different perfume from the one she used to wear, and her clothes feel unfamiliar. I really can't connect the girl that I first made friends with with the one I'm standing in front of right now. Leah joins the hug and we just stand there for a bit, and somehow it's sad, even though this is my choice. Then Shaya shouts across the canteen, "Leah, Kara, get a move on!" and the three of us smile watery smiles and go our separate ways.

* * *

After school I go to the Art rooms. I haven't seen my friends all day because of our completely different schedules, and I'm aching to discuss Goldsworthy with Urban, work on my project with Christabel, and just generally relax and truly be myself after a whole day working and socialising. Cosima's been helping me with Maths too, because as soon as numbers become involved with anything I nearly pass out. But when I get there it's just Euan, Urban and Casper, and the two girls are nowhere to be seen.

"Where is everyone?" I ask, sitting down and kicking off my boots. The Art teachers don't hang around after school - they know us well enough that they can trust us on our own, even if we are in a room full of paper knives and toxic ink. They're pretty free and easy, and are so happy about our passion for art that they'll let us get away with just about anything... including not wearing shoes.

I start to get out my project and some watercolours, but then I notice Euan and Casper exchange glances and I instantly know something's wrong.

"What is it?" I ask. "Where are Christabel and Cos?"

Casper sighs and pauses for a minute before saying, "Christabel got dumped last night."

That's news. Not that she got dumped; that she had a boyfriend at all. Sure, she doesn't share everything, but that's a big thing and I thought that considering I've spent a full week getting to know her she would have mentioned something that important.

"Poor Christabel," I say. I've never been through a break up. I've never even had a serious boyfriend - not unless you count the one-week fling I had in Year Eight... and when I say fling I just mean a lot of texting back and forth, which eventually resulted in 'Will u go out wiv me??' Yeah... I don't think that counts. But I do know that break ups can be awful.

"Yeah, she's pretty cut up about it," Euan sighs. "They've been together for months." I'm now really starting to wonder why nobody ever mentioned this.

"Did she love him?" I ask delicately.

Casper smiles at me, shaking his head. "Yeah, she did love her."

"You mean...?"

"Christabel's lesbian," Euan tells me. "I thought you knew that."

"Nope," I say, shaking my head, and we fall silent. I leaf through my sketchbook to find a blank page, and start applying a wash of blue watercolour, but my thoughts are running wild. Why didn't she tell me that? Did she think I would have a problem with it, or something? Maybe she doesn't trust me enough.

I'm still thinking about it fifteen minutes later, when the two of them come in. We all look expectantly, but Christabel's smiling, and the only thing that shows she's been crying are the slight mascara smudges under her eyes. She looks more vulnerable without makeup, and much younger - less like a sophisticated woman, and more like a child that needs protecting. Cosima and I share an understanding look and nobody says anything, and it's okay. I'm getting used to being silent - I'd even say I'm learning to love it. Sometimes with them everything's loud and fun and colourful, and that's an important part of our friendship, but more often than not there's just contemplative silence, while we think our own thoughts and give each other space. I would say that's just as important too. I gently touch Christabel's arm as she draws, noticing that her hand is shaking, and she smiles at me, although it doesn't quite meet her eyes. I see tears in them, and something about that sight is completely heartbreaking.

© 2014 Matilda B