Madeline Simmonses Day

Shit.

Late, late, late.

I am so fucking late.

Nothing for it. I jump into the shower and am breaking records with my ten minute wash. I'm back in my room again, completely bypassing the outfit I laid out meticulously last night; something about it was suddenly giving me shivers to the back of my soul. I pull things out by sheer intuition instead, not even looking in the mirror as I throw them on. My bag is packed and by my door. I haul it onto my shoulder, ignoring the weight.

It's a pretty hefty thing.

I'm out of the door moments later, patting myself on the back. It only took me half an hour to get ready. That's got to be some kind of record.

I have to do my mascara on the bus. I don't wear much makeup, but some cruel twist of fate left me with skimpy eyelashes.

I have become a master at putting on mascara on the bus. In three years, I have not poked myself in the eye or scribbled black all over my face once.



I'm ten minutes late. I have Buzzard first lesson: I don't even bother trying to get let in.

Instead I find myself in the Social Area with all the other miscreants who got locked out of their first lessons.

I spot Brynmor sitting by a window and settle myself next to him, dropping my bag to the floor with a relieved sigh.

"What, no hug?" He asks dryly.

"I was getting to that," I reply, almost admonishing. I turn to give him a smile, and am engulfed in a hug.

My smile broadens into his chest- even sitting down he is a head and a bit taller than me.

I discover a headphone once he releases me, and slide into my ear to see what he's listening to.

It's as I'm nodding along that Alistair comes up to us.

"Hey guys," he says sitting down. I've never once heard him use my name and I'm beginning to suspect that's because he doesn't know it. Which is strange, not only because he sits next to me in Psychology but also because he is the only person who has figured out my little secret.

"Hey Alice," I say in return to him; Bryn simply nods.

It doesn't take long for the two of them to become absorbed into a conversation that I have no place in, and so I steal Bryn's other headphone, choosing the soothing melancholy tones of Radiohead to names and terms I've never heard before.

Bryn's arm slung casually across my shoulder is a good consolation however, and I shift so I am leaning against him completely.

Alistair would be raising his eyebrows at me if I could see him. But it was okay. I knew he wouldn't tell on me.



The hour ended all too quickly and I had to remove the earphones and hug Bryn and Alistair goodbye before trudging to my form room.

Susan and Karl had moved seats to sit next to each other.

It was meant to be subtle but everyone had noticed, and had suspicions although the two vehemently denied any claim that they were going out. Amy, who Susan used to sit next to, looked distinctly lonely.

Thankfully, Crystal and I remained unseparated, and we spent registration talking about the most inane shit.

Break was a hurried stint in the bathroom, fixing our hair, and then to the canteen for curly fries. I realised with horror that my next lesson was my worst: Psychology with my worryingly bipolar teacher.

I had to leave the canteen a whole five minutes before everyone else to avoid being locked out: I was behind enough as it was.

I made it in time, and slid into my seat next to Alistair.

"Yo," he said, saluting me.

"Hey Alice," I replied absently, taking out my folder and my textbook and beginning to take down notes.

Or trying to begin at any rate. Alistair is unfortunately able to take notes and distract me beyond belief at the same time.

"I heard you and Bryn got pretty intimate at Lou's on Friday" he says in a low, chatty tone. I thank God for my dark skin, my blush would have been beacon bright on my cheeks otherwise.

"I'd had a lot to drink," I murmured, trying to focus on the words Ms. Hewitt had written on the board.

"You know as well as I do that that changes nothing," he whispered. I did. Everyone did. Bryn had a girlfriend, it was common knowledge. Her name was Claudia and her parents had carted her off to America almost as soon as she'd done her GCSE's. That left Bryn a lonely. A little company, a kiss here and there, a little something more... it wouldn't hurt.

I said as much to Alistair, told him he needed to lighten up.

"You know, Bryn's my best friend," he replied, "and yes, it does kill me to see him moping around about Claudia. But I can see that he's playing you thoroughly, my girl. If you were just some random chick it'd all be alright but you're not. You're actually quite decent. And my admirable best friend is taking advantage of you. He is, as they say, having his cake and eating it too." And although his tone was jokey, I knew he was being serious. I turned away from his concern.

"I'll be alright, stop worrying," I said, mindlessly copying from the whiteboard. Alistair humphed. but he couldn't say anything more because Teach was sending death glares our way.



Alistair's little talk had turned my mildly pad mood into a miniature pit of depression, and by lunch I was too confused to communicate.

I had to escape, fifteen minutes before enrichment, to Smokers.

I knew I shouldn't, I was meant to be quitting. But sometimes, you have to treat yourself.

I bummed a cigarette and light off a friendly boy in the upper sixth and allowed the nicotine to flow through me, drawing the experience out for as long as I could.

My lungs complained one I was done, the unmovable hacking cough telling me how displeased they were with my actions but it was well worth it, I decided. It was even worth the blood I coughed up into a tissue. I had been expecting it. I didn't care anymore.

I got to enrichment just as the teacher in charge read out my name. I alerted the room to my presence by choking into another coughing fit halfway through replying 'present'.

Alistair glared at me.

We both took film club for enrichment, but it wasn't done with the intention of spending another couple of hours together on a Wednesday afternoon. It had been a mistake, and one I often regretted: I don't like spending so much time in the company of someone who knows everything about me.

After a little confusion, a small group of us traipsed out of the room to finish watching Pan's Labyrinth.

I sat alone, but I couldn't escape. Alistair ditched his friends to sit next to me.

"Hey Alice," I croaked in a pathetic attempt to put off the lecture I knew I was going to receive. The cough had finally subsided but my throat and my lungs felt raw, like they were bleeding. I guess they were.

I tuned out while he whisper-shouted at me. I wanted to say 'Calm down for God's sake; it's only a cigarette', I wanted to say 'It doesn't matter about that at all', I wanted to say 'It won't make Bryn love me', I wanted to say 'Shut up, Alistair'.

But I knew any of those would just bring a barrage of wrath down on my head, so I refrained.



It was a bit strange, I reflected on the bus journey home. How one boy- who possibly didn't even know my name- had figured out something my own father didn't know about me.

A propensity to Bronchitis during my lifetime, coupled with a steady smoking habit from the age of thirteen had shredded my lungs. So effectively that they just kept on shredding.

Emphysema, it's called. For the most part, it's incurable.

I found out just under a year ago. With treatment, and a strict regime of pulmonary rehab and no cigarettes they could slow down the rate at which my poor little bronchi are dying, or doing whatever it is they do.

But if I carry on smoking and burning the candle at both ends, the doctor said I'd have less than five years to live.

God knows how Alistair found that out.

But it's okay.

I knew he wouldn't tell on me.