Short Story: Open Road

Standing here on the open road, my home far behind me and my future way in front of me, I have never felt more at peace than I do now. Here. In the middle of this wide and empty road. Not even the chill from this icy winter's morning can snap me out of this revere I'm in. I open my eyes, adjust the strap of my heavy laden carry-all bag that is digging into my shoulder, grab hold of the handle of my small, bright orange wheelie suitcase and begin my long walk to the local station. Some of the money I have saved up from working tirelessly at that Godforsaken pub with those old leering men that only become more unbearable to be around when they are drunk, the always busy local pharmacy and the ever-so quiet public library burns in the front pocket of my jeans; tempting me to throw caution to the wind and call a taxi to drop me off at the station and enjoy a few brief moments of warmth. But I stave off this idea and remember my goal. It's not like I haven't done this before. 

God those days were unbearable.

I didn't have enough money to pay for both my house bills and bus fares into town to go to work so I always had my early morning "workouts" to keep me in shape. I had to make do with two small  meals a day that could barely be considered actual meals so I didn't have to worry about putting on any weight. I am just lucky that my skin and hair are manageable because it does not take a lot to tame them which meant I did not have to waste the little money I had on the countless beauty products that are out there. Even shopping for clothes took a back seat and the thought was only entertained when deemed necessary. My house-mates had given up on inviting me to nights out eating or dancing away in clubs in the city because to them I was an anti-social miserable girl that cared for no one and certainly had no plans of having fun. But I didn't care what they thought of me... or shall I say I learnt not to care. My savings for the open road was the only thing that kept me going. 

And that day has finally come.

Standing at the platform my train is expected to arrive at, I run through the list of things I will  have to do once I get there as my nerves kick into overdrive, forcing me to believe that I have forgotten something. The doors of the train open up shortly after it arrives at the platform allowing the maniacs that were once in it to force themselves out of the carriage and bump repeatedly into me. I managed not to lose my temper and quickly got on the train to find my seat. Now that I have gotten to the right carriage and located my seat, I look for a suitable luggage rack to stow away my suitcase and then make my way to my aisle seat. I stop dead in my tracks when I see who will be sat next to me for the next leg of both our journeys. It was the impatient grunt of the person stood behind me and in front of me that forced me to sit down in my seat. I made sure not to make any sudden movements that might alarm the sleeping passenger who I'm now sat next to. Breathing so quietly, I fear I may not be taking in the required amount of oxygen I need to get by in life. I try to sneak a look at the person sat next to me in such a way that no one else will be able to tell what I'm doing. This proves to be very hard especially when the sleeping beauty turns in its sleep and deems my shoulder worthy enough to rest its head upon.

Shit!

The train has set off now but it seems we may have left my heart back at the station as I cannot detect a heartbeat. How is it this stranger, although he does not feel like one, is able to have such an effect on me and isn't even lucid? Surely that is not right! I clench my teeth, reign in my hormones and carefully nudge him back to his side of the train. I let out a big sigh of relief when it does not look like I have awoken him. I quickly get out my ticket out my pocket and wait for the conductor to walk by so that it can be checked and stamped. A little boy sat at the table not far from me catches my eye when he tugs at his mother's hair and laughs with pure glee when her curls spring back into place. There is something so honest and almost unreal about the love his mum has for him and he for her that sends a formidable sense of calm straight through me I have no choice but to relax.

'...please don't forget to take your luggage with you'.

The booming sound of the conductors voice over the speakers brutally wakes me up from the best sleep I have had in a long time. I open up my eyes and allow them to adjust to the harsh lights within the train. I then become painfully aware that my head is resting on something that keeps moving up and down slightly. I sit up quickly, which is a bad idea as my neck is not in its best state, to find that I had been using the shoulder of the guy sat next to me as my person pillow. My eyes open wide in horror at the sight of the drool trail I had left behind. To say that I'm mortified is an understatement. The pain in my neck doesn't register immediately as I wipe the trace from mouth and chin and apologise profusely to the gentleman whose head I had nudged off my shoulder many hours ago but let me rest mine on his for God knows how long and is now grinning at me from ear to ear for a reason I do not know.

'Jen, it's ok. Honestly it is fine. It's nothing that a bit of water and soap can't fix'.

I frown in confusion. How does he know my name? He chuckles as I assume he knows that I don't know who he is. He gets up which in turn makes me get up. I look around to find that the train is practically empty. How did I not notice this? I watch him as he reaches up to get his luggage from the overhead storage space, puts on his coat and makes his way off the train.

He turns round and says, 'You coming?'

I must be dreaming... I go get my bright orange suitcase, secretly glad that it still where I'd left it, and followed this familiar stranger who knows my name off the train. He says nothing as we make our way to the main part of Piccadilly station. I try to lose him as the place is crawling with people who are itching to get to their various destinations and those awaiting the arrival of their loved ones because I don't feel all too smart walking with a man I do not know. And despite the almost packed vicinity I have never felt more alone especially now that I managed to give him the slip. But the familiar stranger takes hold of my hand which as surprising and highly anticipated that gesture was, caused me to withdraw my hand quicker than one could blink. I caught a glimpse of the frown that was on his face when I looked up at him which was now replaced with a slight smile. He cocked his head towards the escalators and that's when I saw her.

'JEN!!!'

I ran over to my childhood friend like there was hot coal beneath my feet and where she was was a pool of cool water. She hugged me so hard I feared my ribs would break but I was thankful for it.

'I see you have met my brother. I completely forgot that you guys were catching the same train'.

'Brother?' I said. I turned to see the familiar stranger drop his bag to the floor to hug his little sister.

'It seems Jen does not remember me Beth', he said with a chuckle.

Beth looks at me with a raised eyebrow and I shrug my shoulders in response, totally embarrassed by this but I try not to let it show. She shakes her head and giggles.

'To be fair Mark, she hasn't seen you in over what, 8 years?'

He laughs and nods in agreement. We make our way to Beth's car I cannot believe the situation I have found myself in now. Reunited with the only friend from my former life that I am still in contact with who so happens to be the sister of the guy wearing my saliva on his very nice and expensive coat that is walking beside me with his hand slightly grazing mine with every step we take towards the car causing the butterflies in my tummy to do all kinds of tricks. He offers to drive us back to Beth's which gives us the chance to catch up slightly in the back of the car. Beth fusses over the fact that I am wasting away and I am silently hoping to catch her brother's eye in the rear view mirror. When this does happen I look away so quickly I almost give myself whiplash.

 But I am so glad I did.

The sight of the open road before us makes me smile because I know that at the end of it, I will be able let go and truly embrace life. I grab hold of Beth's hand and whisper, 'Thanks for this B'. She pulled me into another bone-breaking hug and says, 'You are welcome babes. I am just glad that you finally came to your senses and decided that this was the best idea ever imagined'. I smile and say, 'It is in't it?' Mark catches my eye again in the rear view mirror and winks at me which makes me smile even more. He puts on the radio and you won't believe what song blares through the speakers.



If that it isn't a sign, I don't know what is...

*  *  *  *

THE END.

A Not-So-Short Short Story: At The Eleventh Hour With The Giant

Sitting in this dark room on the sofa cross-legged, staring at the wall for the past 2 hours has given me time to really think about my life and what I have done with it this past year. My fingers have now come to the realisation that the mug they are holding onto has now gone cold. As I get up to put on the kettle, my fleecy blanket that was once casually strewn across my body falls to the floor, causing the icy air that saturates my apartment to collide with my once warm skin. I quickly snatch my blanket and throw it over me as a shield against the cold and hurry into the kitchen to refill mug with hot tea so that I and my fingers can stop shaking.

Resting on the kitchen counter, hearing the water slowly come to a boil reminds me of the time I went to York on business and ran into Sam at the local pub. Haha. She had changed so much! I couldn't quite believe my eyes when I turned around to see who it was that had tapped my shoulder. I excused myself from the company of my colleagues whom I am sure were glad to see me go as that was at the early stages of their little sordid affair. It was so awkward feeling that much sexual tension between them in that small space we called our own in that packed pub. I would be lying if I said that it did not make me yearn to have someone permanent in my life that just so happens to find me just as attractive as they found each other. Anyway, Sam invited me round to her's that night, which was a stone's throw away from the pub, and we spent the whole night in her kitchen sitting on her huge central kitchen counter with mugs full of hot chocolate with more than a hint of Bailey's reminiscing about our stint in boarding school and catching up on what we have been up to since.

I make myself my fresh cup of tea and slink back to my spot on the sofa, my blanket in tow. I laugh at the crazy things we got up to at that all girls school. The boys who were snuck in. The girls who were snuck out. The teacher's chair that was "kindly" given a fresh lick of paint just before he arrived so that when he sat down his trousers reflected the generosity of the painter. Those were the days! When it was my turn to answer the big question- 'So, what have you been up to missy? The last time I saw you was during our 2nd year of uni'- I fumbled and mumbled a few incoherent strings of phrases as my brain desperately tried to piece together what I had done since we left that was interesting enough to rival her stories. Seeing her face fall in what I took to be pity made my all too familiar tear glands spring into action and give their Oscar-worthy performance. 

It dawned on me that in the 6 years since I last saw her I have done nothing but work. When Sam was meeting the love of her life I was planning on how to throttle my partner because he was not pulling his weight and I could not afford to fail that year's project. When Sam was studying abroad in Germany I was crying over the fact that my boyfriend at the time chose Australia over me. I was a selfsih cow. Sue me. When Sam was volunteering in Kenya one summer I was struggling to figure out which company I wanted to work for as I had offers coming out of my ears which was both a blessing and a curse. When Sam was truly living life I was basically wasting mine behind a desk for 4 years punching numbers and giving presentations and falling into a pathetic cycle that made me feel so alone.

That fateful night was the night my life changed. Sam and I created my first ever bucket list. And with the help of her fit fella, the ridiculous number of holidays I had accrued at work and my rather large savings account they handed me my itinerary for the next 6 months. I was to embark on my very own Euro trip by myself. To which I said, 'Hell no!' and Sam, being the pretty well known travel journalist and travel junkie  that she is decided to accompany me for the 1st few trips to ease me into it. I finally came round and we did the cheesy clinking of our mugs and passed out in Sam's living room from all the excitement. 

That was the night my adventure began.

I down the last dregs of my tea and listen to the howls of the wind outside as it whips round the B&B I am in with great gusto causing the windows to rattle and the wind chimes outside to play a most violent tune. I make a mental note to thank my mother again for getting me the tartan microfleece pajamas I have on as they are amazingly great at aiding to keep my body temperature at a decent level. Today is the day I turn 27 and it also happens to be the last day of my 6 month adventure. Looking back at all I have achieved in this year alone threatens to set my Oscar nominated tear glands off for a grand finale. I can't quite believe I managed to juggle both work and a colourful social life. 

For the past 8 trips on, I have explored the various cities myself and I am super proud of that. Sam and I started off in France and work our way round Europe. It was amazing! Expensive... but amazing. I was then given the big task of finishing off my adventure by getting to know the UK. I can't say I am a big fan of the south as I'm a Northern girl through and through but I can see why people love it. I started my UK trip there and worked my way back up north. I am now currently in Scotland. Have been for 4 days now but it was only yesterday when I arrived in Edinburgh. It has been years since I have been here it is almost criminal. Scotland is such a lovely place despite the unbearably cold weather. 

I close my eyes and convince myself that I will look like an idiot if I go to The Peartree dressed in my pajamas with my hair tucked away in a hairnet. I bravely throw my blanket off me and rush into the bathroom to get ready. I hear a knock on my door not 10 mins later which startles me as I am not expecting anything to be brought to my room.

'Just hang on a second!' I yell. 'Won't be a minute!'

I yank on my unnaturally tight Dorothy Perkins jeans over my hideously fat arse and pull my Zara jumper over my head, shoving my arms through the wonderfully soft sleeves. Ruffling my hair a bit and swiping on a lit of lipgloss over my lips I open the door to find a giant in front of me. I let a rather indescribable noise out from my mouth as I watch it take steps towards me. I instinctively back away into my room as I try to process what is happening as quickly as I can.

'Sarah, ok I know what you must be thinking. Would you quit walking away from me? You'll head out the window if you back away any further', it says in a deep familiar voice. 

A voice that I was once so anxious to hear over the phone every night throughout my first two years at uni. A voice that quickly became the little voice in my head that steers me away from wrong and urges me to trust my gut. A voice that belonged to a man who won my heart with the wink of an eye, a flash of the sexiest grin I've ever seen and a night in eating homemade lasagna as we watched Lord of The Rings. A voice that was replaced by an unbearable silence and an ache in my heart since the day it joined its owner to fly half way across the world.

It is funny how one day you could be at in a pub in York going through the motions, catching the weighted looks your present company are throwing at each other and not really realising how much time you have wasted. And then boom! You are in a cute B&B up in Edinburgh about to head to a very popular pub to meet up with your mate Sam and her now  fiancé when suddenly, at quite literally the eleventh hour the man who once clawed his way into your personal fortress barges his way back into your life, with the help of your so-called best mate and her fiancé, and still has the audacity to take your breath away.

After a rather loud and long exchange of words between us which most consisted of me biting his head off for assuming that I would still be in love with him, working with Sam to get me to end my adventure here... in the B&B his parents OWN and for not believing that we could have made it work- Oh yeah! He dumped me because he didn't believe in long distance relationships. The twat!- he grabs my hand and drags me to his car. He drives a very angry me to The Peartree to meet up with my now ex-best friend and her soon-to-be-dead  fiancé to celebrate New Years together. Did I mention that The Giant is Sam's soon-to-be brother-in-law? Just one big happy family this is. Urgh!! 

Anyways, Sam hands me a pint of larger with an apologetic smile that I take begrudgingly and I look around at everyone enjoying themselves as the barman has signaled that it is the last minute of 2013. I take a sneaky look at The Giant that turned out to not be so sneaky as he was already watching me.

'I'm sorry', he mouths as he hands me a note.

30 seconds left.

I study the battered piece of paper. I can't believe he kept it. The bastard! Just when I convinced myself  that this was a justified situation to rub my nose to spite my face he goes and does this?! I look into his eyes and watch as his body quickly shifts and appears barely an inch away from me.

Ten. Nine. Eight.

Do I leave him in 2013?

Seven. Six. Five.

Or...

Three. Two. One.

I close my eyes and trust the little voice in my head. I don't hear the supposedly loud cheer or the see the fireworks or feel the beer that was mistakenly pour over my tarted Ugg boots. All I feel right now- with his big arms around me and his lips stuck to mine and my good old tear glands warming up as Sam and her fit fella scream with delight- is home. 

Because home is where the heart is right?

*  *  *  *  *  Happy New Year *  *  *  *  * 

Short Story: Days In The Park

I worry about you.

I am thankful everyday for you but I worry about you.

You spend all your days and nights worrying about me and the kids, you hardly have the time to take proper care of yourself. I go to bed every night praying that tonight will be the night you sleep well but, that night has not yet come. I feel you wake up every 3 hours or so, tossing and turning and sighing and groaning as silently as you can. I pretend to roll over in my sleep and reach out for you, holding you as long as my tired arms will allow it. I feel your heart rate steadily drop and the tension in your tall, broad and strong body leave you as you find your way back to me. To here. Our bed. Our home. Our safe place.

I made sure today that you woke up to the smell of freshly baked bread and grilled sausages and an already fed set of 5 year old twin boys and a lovely, yet troublesome, 2 year old girl. I hear you slowly make your way downstairs, into the kitchen, and the sight of that smile, the one that momentarily stopped my heart all those many moons ago when I first laid eyes on you, takes my breath away even now. You kiss me good morning, placing an arm around my not so svelte body and whisper how beautiful I am. I blush and reach up to hold your face in my hands. Though the frown lines are almost permanently etched into your face I do sense a little bit of life and spark in those lovely brown eyes of yours. The kids notice your presence and run as fast as they can from the living room to come and greet you.

'Can we go to the park now, dad? You promised to take us to the park today'.

'Yes, dad. I too remember this promise'.

'Par daddy! Par!'

You smile and pick little Ruth up and tell them all to get ready to go out. I attempt to get the boys showered and dressed but you tell me not to worry, that you will handle it. And that you've run me a bath so I should go enjoy that. Tears creep into my eyes, daring to pour out but I manage to keep my emotions in check and head upstairs as quickly as I can.

Once we are all fed and showered and dressed, we make our merry way to the park. The boys, each holding their favourite toy, James a frisbee and John a football, are way ahead of us; their energy doubling the closer we get to the park. You hold my and Ruth's hand as we trail gleefully behind.

I make a beeline for the nearest bench as you and the kids break free and run amok, playing with the leaves and chasing each other as you play tag. I smile as I watch you make castles out of the green-brown leaves with Ruth and see how relaxed you seem. I catch your eye and you wink at me.

My heart flutters.

I rest my hand on my ever-growning tummy and whisper to our most anticipated Christmas gift, 'I can't wait for you to join our little gang of mischief'. I can't help but feel incredibly blessed. I close my eyes and silently thank God for answering all my prayers and giving me much more than I deserve.

I want everyday to be like our days in the park. You laughing, the kids spending quality time with you and the man I fell in love with many suns ago winning the battle against his more worrisome self. I know you are anxious and uncertain of your ability to provide for our growing family, especially now with me being a stay-at-home-mum, but I really hope that you get to have more days like today so that you can enjoy all that we have accomplished so far.

You make your way over to me, the kids hot on your heels. You place a hand on our bump and kiss me long and hard, much to the kids disgust. We laugh and I tell you I love you. You smile that smile that melted my heart many days and arguments and date nights and PTA meetings and make-up sex ago and tell me you love me too. You pull me towards you and wrap an arm around me as we sit on the bench and watch the kids  go off and play in the leaves some more. I feel how relaxed your body is and how steady your breathing is and I close my eyes, enjoying this moment.

Yes, I really wish everyday to be like our days in park as we so fortunate to be having them at all.

***                 ***

Happy Thanksgiving & Happy Hanukkah!

Short Story: In The Mornings

I wake up, like every morning, and roll over to your side of the bed to drink in the lingering warmth that your body creates when you lie next to me. I feel the sunlight lightly kissing my skin because you, like every morning, open the curtains and windows to taste the new day when you get up. I hear you bustling about as you get ready for work; the hissing of the iron, the creaking of the floorboards, the sound of running water are all instruments that are used in the song that I listen to every morning.

I groan at the sound of the door closing behind you as you make your hurried way to the kitchen to fix yourself something to eat. At least I hope you are eating and not living on caffeine alone. I let the familiar guilt crawl its way into my stress-stricken body and drown me with the fact that I am a terrible person for not taking proper care of you and ensuring that you are well fed. What would your mother think? She already does not approve of me. Instead of getting up to check you are in fact eating solid food I lie here, in bed, wrapping myself with the huge blanket we are using as a duvet this summer to stop the cold from gnawing at my fingers and toes.

I hear the door slam again quickly followed by the sweet smell of freshly made coffee. You set my coffee filled Scooby Doo mug down on the bedside table along with a buttered bagel, lie down next to me and pull me into your ever so warm embrace. Just like you do every morning. I feel hot tears trickle down my face as, like every morning, you remind me of how much you love me. The way you stroke my hair sends ripple of calm throughout my body that eventually halts the tears. I fell your soft lips plant themselves on my forehead releasing bursts of hot spots all over my body. I am very aware that we do not have much time left before you have to leave so I free my mind from all other thoughts and savour these last few moments we have together before we join the daily grind of the working life.

On time, as always, we hear the alarm go off. You pry yourself out of my embrace and head out the door. As the front door closes and I hear you turn the key I sit up and reach for the cup of coffee you made me. After I take the first sip of liquid luck I can feel my insides latching onto every drop that makes it way into my tummy. I finish it and get out of bed to perform all my morning rituals- make the bed, do the washing up, set the table for dinner and finally hop into the shower.

I miss you already.

It is like this every morning. I am sure that I cannot be the only one that believes that mornings have a funny way of affecting the rest of your day more powerfully that other times of the day. You always starts mine off right. 

Once I have patted myself dry, lathered my skin with body lotion and put on my clothes, I sit on your side of the bed, munching on my bagel. Right there and then I make up my mind up my mind to try harder to make your mornings as special as you make mine. Although I am not even remotely a morning person, it is in the mornings that I truly value the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I will try not to bring work home tonight. And I think I will make Thai green curry for dinner, as you really like that. And I will also try to go to bed early. That way I can be well rested when I wake up earlier tomorrow to start your day with a kiss, a cup of coffee and breakfast in bed.

Just like you do for me every morning.

What I Should Have Said

[source]

This is a very quick snapshot of a girl who is going through the age-old mantra of falling in love with what may seem to be the wrong guy,

Enjoy!

Yours truly,

Mo x

Grace was pottering around all morning after she got the phone call from the police station. A million things flitted through her mind. Should she call him? Should she go visit him? If she visited what should she bring? Would he even want to see her? To say she was confused on what to do is an understatement. Grace glanced outside her window and watched how the window panes were covered with sheets of water. Typical British weather. She decided that she would not go and visit him only to be turned away and be at the risk of catching a cold. 

Grace checked her clock and saw that it was 4.00 pm. 'The post man will be here soon', she thought. She rushed to her room and pulled out a pen and paper and began tow rite the following letter:

Dear RJ,

I highly doubt that I would ever have the courage to tell you this face-to-face so I thought that I would resort to using a more traditional mode of communication. I shall jump straight to the point as I know you wouldn't want me beating around the bush after what I did. I just thought I would try to explain why I mistakenly sent you to the A&E. I swear that that was not my intention at all. You just...pissed me off.

Look, I know that it is not your fault that when you walk into a place where I am in my heart literally skips a beat or beats that much quicker. I know it is not your fault that I turn into a mumbling idiot when you try to include me in conversations amongst our friends. I know it is not your fault that I spilt red wine all over your mothers white rug on your 18th as I was trying to show off my new dress (Soo sorry about that. Again). I know it is not your fault that every time you laugh I am immediately happy because you are. I know it is not your fault that I get immensely jealous when you get off with girls at clubs or get chatted up by them when we are out. I know that it is not your fault that you are not attracted to me in any way. I know that it is not your fault that you feel comfortable enough around me to ask me for advice on how to make up to your girlfriend of the year. I know that it is not your fault that you have no idea of how much I care about you and for how long because I have never let you told you. I know that it is not your fault that you had no idea that I am pregnant with the child of a man that cheated on me with my sister. I know that it is not your fault that I no longer the girl whom you used to swim with your back yard in just my swim shorts because my parents didn't see it fit to put a tank top on me or put me in a one-piece.

And most of all, I know that it is not your fault that I drenched your new squeeze in lemonade, punched you so hard that I broke your nose, knocked you unconscious and caused you to be cooped up in A&E because I could not find the words to tell you what was going on with me. 

I am very sorry about making your 25th a party to remember. I am sorry that my shitty life has caused you so much pain. It is just...you did not notice!  You didn't notice that I had cut my hair. You didn't notice that I had broken up with Deji. You didn't notice that I wasn't drinking or that you poking fun at my "sudden" weight gain was not funny. Not to me at least. I know I should have just told you these things instead or resorting to violence but you just rub me the wrong way. You always have. 

Anyway, do not worry. I will never contact you again after this. I just hope that this sort of sheds a little light on what was going on in my head.

Love, Grace xx

P.S. Thanks for dropping the charges by the way. I doubt I could have handled giving birth in jail. That would most definitely have sent me to the loony bin. 


When she was done, she placed it in an envelope, rushed downstairs to go and catch the postman who was just about to leave but was holding the door open for someone. As Grace was about to call out to the postman she stopped dead in tracks. For the person that the postman was letting into the building was the very last person she wanted to see.

'We need to talk', said Deji.

Excerpt: 'Untitled' Novel

[source]

Today's entry will be about a girl called Ava. This is a fictional story written by me. If this tale in any way resembles your life, it is purely coincidental.

Yours truly,

Mo x

'Untitled'

‘I didn't do too badly if you ask me’.

Dominic took a quick look at me and said, ‘Did you at least remember to use deodorant this time?’

I sigh and quickly reach behind my seat to find my secret stash of toiletries. As you may have already come to this conclusion, this is not the first time I have been late for school. I almost kill us both with the fumes from the evil lavender smelling canister. Dominic throws me an evil glare as he winds down the window. I smile apologetically and put the deodorant away. We finally get to school and both dash out of the car, running to get to our first class of the day.

‘You are making a habit out of this Miss Johnson’.

I smile apologetically at my Media Studies teacher, Mr Zone and take my usual seat at the back of the class right behind Nickev. I shake my head to stop myself heading down that treacherous route. Day dreaming about Nickev is not the way to go for any girl who wants to remain in control of herself because as soon as you make that fatal mistake, he will forever have a hold on you and all you can do is pretend that he doesn't to his face.

Lying to yourself is just not cool.

Lying to everyone else, however, is sort of okay when your reputation is at stake.

It is not hard to concentrate in Mr Z’s class because he is by far my favourite teacher and one of the main reasons I want to study Journalism at uni. He was the one who came up with the brilliant idea that is the school newspaper created for and by the students. Now we have our own website thanks to the amazing collaboration between the IT, Media Studies, Eng. Lit. and Art students as a huge project that was worth 30% of our grades. It was so much fun to do and I got to make friends with people I wouldn't normally look twice at.

After we watched a one and a half hour documentary on the “Doom and Gloom of the Demand and Supply of Oil and Power Today”, Mr Z asked us what our views were on both the topic and the way the documentary was delivered.  A debate between a group of students broke out.

‘Now I am sure Ava has something to say on that subject’, said Mr Zone, pulling me out of my thoughts.

The whole class sighs in unison as they turn to look at me. Ok, it is not my fault I am strongly opinionated and make my voice heard. I look up at Mr Z who is waiting for me to say something but my mind is completely blank. I honestly don’t know that much about big oil companies and their plans to make us destitute before we even think of buying cars and filling them up with petrol or diesel. So I simply say-

‘I have nothing to say on that subject sir’.

‘Is that because you agree with what the reporter was saying or do you have no clue what is going on in any sector apart from…oh wait, no you don’t know much about fashion either’, said Nickev coolly. Most people sniggered at that remark. He was one of the few people who did not bother to turn round to look at me.

I close my eyes and count to ten before I say, ‘I am not sorry that I don’t dress the same way as those insipid barbie dolls you hang out with and date do. And I do know a thing or two about fashion. I just do not like the way it's heading. As for the clip about the upheaval in the oil sector, you are right I do not know much about it but I don’t go around making people feel bad to make myself feel better’.

I stand up from my seat, gather my things and make my way out of the class but Mr Z tries to stop me before I reach the door. Luckily for me he sees the tears in my eyes and lets me go. As I make my way to the student common room I secretly pray that Nickev runs out of the class after me to apologise and sweep me up in his arms and-

‘What’s wrong Ava?’ I’m asked by my good friend Kemi who is skiving her math class as she always does on a Thursday morning; not because she hates math but because she is way ahead of the class already. She makes room for me on this huge table she’s sat at which is completely covered with graphs on what looked like vectors, math textbooks and notes. I sit down next to her and rest my head on her shoulder. She wraps her arms around me which instantly makes me feel loved.

Kemi is by far the best girlfriend ever! She knows exactly what to say at the right time, is her own person, she is smart and too kind sometimes. She sticks up for you even when you are clearly in the wrong and usually wins the argument. I have known her for the past 3 years now since her parents dropped her off at her aunt’s and went back to Nigeria. And I can proudly say that I have loved her for that long.

I wipe away the tears that escaped from my eyes and raise up my head. I look her dead in the eye and she starts to smile. Her grin gets progressively bigger when I start to smile too. I shake my head and she says,‘What altercation have you and Nickev gotten into now?’

I sigh and cover my face.

Kemi gasped. ‘You are going red!’ She giggles and then when she sees my face she stops immediately and I can see her trying to think of anything that will make her stop laughing. People start clambering into the common room which means its time for our Psychology class.

‘He dissed my style’.

‘Erm…what style, child?’ she says in a Southern American accent. ‘You need help in that department honey. I mean I know you like your comfort but there are other ways of being comfortable’.

I laugh.

‘So you are taking his side now?’ I say as I wait for her to pack up her stuff.

‘No, hun. I’m on your side one hundred percent’, she says looking at me, a little hurt by my accusation. ‘I am just saying, it wouldn't hurt for you to at least put some effort into your “look” or at least shower before you come to school’.

I instinctively sniff myself and decide I don’t reek enough to be lethal. On our way to our next class we bump into no other than Nickev. He takes one look at us and before he has a chance to say anything I head into my Psychology class that was conveniently two steps away. Kemi tuts at him as she enters the classroom and sits down next to me. I sneak a look at the door to find Nickev staring straight at me. As soon as our eyes lock he chuckles and walks away. I feel my face burning as I have once again let him know that I care what he thinks of me.