August 2013
Seb Andrews gazed into my eyes and said, 'You're the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my whole life.' He moved closer, I couldn't believe it, he was actually going to kiss me.
That was when the alarm clock attacked my ears with the nastiest ringing sound in the world. No, it couldn't happen, not at that moment. I killed the noise and turned over. It must be possible to continue to dream, life couldn't be that unfair.
Half an hour later, I discovered, yes, it could. I didn't recapture my dream, but I certainly managed to go back to sleep. My mum's voice drilled into my brain, 'I heard the alarm, why on earth did you go back to sleep? You've never done that before, now you're going to be late for school.'
I had to go to the office and was marked late, and after an ear-bashing from the Head, I had a horrible thought. It was Wednesday, it was Latin, and I was late for Mrs. Miller, of all people. She was the most feared teacher in the whole school. I peeped through the glass window in the door. There she was, tall, gaunt, all bones and teeth, like an alien, but worse.
I pushed the door open and her bulging eyes swivelled to meet mine. 'Oh, so you've decided to join us, have you? What's your excuse? Perhaps you think you're so clever that you don't need every second of my valuable time.'
'We-ell, I woke up and . . .'
'Let me guess, you left your brains on the pillow!'
At this, there were a few nervous titters from the class. You never could tell who she was going to pick on next. 'Well, madam, you can join the detention group, Friday, after school.' 'But Miss, I . . .'
'Sit down, before I lose my temper!' I sat down in disbelief. On Friday, Myra had promised to help me to casually bump into Seb. They caught the same 'bus home and this Friday, I was going to wait at the same actual 'bus stop as Seb Andrews. Except now I wasn't.
I broke the news of my detention to my mum, and while her voice was getting shriller and louder, I let my thoughts drift. I pondered over my bad decisions . . . to go back to sleep, to choose Wednesday to be late and to try and talk to Mrs. Miller. Yes, I'd brought it all on myself. Mum had exhausted herself by now and I was quite relieved to be sent to bed. I pretended to be upset in case she changed her mind and I'd have to sit with her all evening.
When the bell went for home time on Friday, I trudged forlornly to the Art Room and my fate, while the rest of the school leapt and chattered and screeched out of the school, into the joyous arms of the weekend. Mr. Glazier was the designated detention dictator this Friday. We all call him Mr. Lazier because he never marks our work and he's always off sick.
'Right, it's a small group today because we've got hockey and football matches going on, friendlies with St. John Fisher School and most of the delinquents are in the teams. Mind you, they need to be. The opposition say ten 'Our Fathers' and twenty 'Hail Marys', then knock your teeth out. Here's a couple of worksheets, get on with it. I'm going to watch the football, see you two in an hour.'
With a whoosh of air, he had gone and I sat down, rather stunned, next to the other poor victim.
'Hi, I'm Seb.'
I closed my eyes, I must be dreaming . . . again. Three cheers for bad decisions!