“Yeah.” Thanks, Mum. “Lily for short.” Or just some semblance of normal. “My mother was overly fond of a particular fragrance of talcum powder in the maternity home.” Not entirely a lie, although she was far more partial to a different powder. More beige than white, but who’s keeping track?
It earns a giggle from Dee and that’s better than anything the truth ever got me.
“What about you? What’s Dee short for?”
Her mouth pulls down at the corners. “Diedre. But if you ever tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you.”
A flash of brain and blood and splintered bone careens into my head and I shove it out just as quickly. No, I don’t think about that. I don’t think about thatat all.
I join in her laughter, fast enough that I don’t think she catches my hesitation. We wind through the corridors, with her pointing out items of supreme uninterest while I fail to allocate them any space in my memory.
Finally, she introduces me to my locker, opposite the year thirteen common room. We’ve been nowhere near long enough to skip second period, but we’ve definitely cracked the back of first.
After English, the rest of my schedule for the day is music before lunch, followed by a free period and ending with calculus. If only the latter were reversed, I’d get a decent chunk of time to head home and unwind before my roommates invade.
As it is, the free period isn’t long enough to get home and back, so I’ll be stuck at school, bored out of my mind for an hour before heading into the second to worst lesson of the day.
I yank out an exercise book and pen, closing the toggle over the rest of my school supplies and shoving them in the locker.
“This is my friend, Em,” Dee says, introducing me to a dark-haired beauty in the common room who looks like her outfit cost about the same amount as the entire east wing of the school.
Her straight, deep chestnut hair falls halfway down her back and has a luxurious shine. It makes me feel the inadequacy of my own mousy curls more keenly. Add to that, her makeup is absolute perfection. Too good for this cheap high school.
“Hey.” I hold out my hand, feeling seven different shades of embarrassment for being gauche enough to try to make friends. “I’m Lily.”
“Heads up.” Dee nudges her friend, eyes fixed on the far door. “Your favourite boy is back in town.”
I glance along the hallway and freeze. Zach Cameron strides towards us, eyes fixed on Em. Or, more specifically, the point where Em’s skirt stops, barely covering her underwear.
His hair is tousled, like he crawled out of bed and decided he was fine to present to the world just as he was. If so, he had a point. The sleepy look suits him, showcasing those long lashes to perfection. A girl could get jealous.
Then a girl could look at the broad spread of his shoulders tapering to an athletically narrow waist and forget every envious bone in her body in the resulting rush of heat to all the right places.
Not me. I’m not that girl. When I look at him, all I feel is cold.
Then sick.
“Excuse me,” I blurt and make a run for the bathroom. Inside, one stall is occupied, and I put a hand to my throat as though I could physically push the nausea away. I don’t want to throw up while someone listens from the next cubicle along. Sweat pops out on my forehead as I fight the urge, and I cup my hands under the cold tap to throw some water on my face.
It helps, more than the half-hearted self-strangulation, and I keep doing it until Dee walks through the door. “You okay?”
“Just first day jitters,” I tell her, gripping the side of the basin until my knuckles turn white. Another wave of nausea rolls up my abdomen. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”
I try to act nonchalant, but my facial muscles don’t sign onto the hoax and happily tell her something different before I can wrangle them under control.
“He’s already left. Zach only spends half his time in school, if that. I doubt he’ll be back today.”
It’s good news, but I still cling onto the basin like it’s the only solid object left in my life.
“Do you know him well?” she asks, eyes staring at my reflection.
“Just met him once.”
She reaches out a hand, hesitates, then lets it hover above my shoulder. A good call. The touch of another human being isn’t top of my priority list right now. “Did he hurt you?”
The concern on her face is striking and I take a second to remember it’ll be for her friend, not me. Dee didn’t follow me into the bathroom to make sure I was all right. She did it to make sure Em was safe.
I shake my head. “He actually helped me with something, but I…” My words trail off as I clench my jaw, fighting off the last burst of sickness. “It was a bad time, but that’s nothing to do with Zach.”
