Annie
‘Annie, wait up!’
I stop short of my locker, dread pooling in my belly, then turn to watch Donna striding towards me.
‘Have you had lunch?’ she asks.
The bell went three minutes ago, and I haven’t even reached my locker. ‘Not yet.’
‘Great. Let me get mine. We’ll eat together.’
Donna Hughes is the only Jehovah’s Witness at my school close to me in age. That’s the basis of our friendship. But if you ask anyone in the congregation about us, they’ll tell you we’re best friends. Never mind the fact that Donna annoys me 95 percent of the time. I’m not entirely sure why. Perhaps it’s the way she tells stories. They always lack a punchline. Sometimes she’ll even laugh despite nothing about it being funny. Or maybe it’s the way she eats a sandwich by tearing small pieces off instead of taking bites. Even her constant ponytail annoys me. She’s worn her hair the same way every day since she was eight.
I could write an essay on all the things that annoy me about her, and I’d go well over the word limit.
‘I’ll meet you at the tables outside,’ I tell her, forcing a smile.
She touches my arm as she passes me, in that best friend kind of way, and my smile fades the second her back’s turned.
When I step up to my locker, I find Tamsin Stevenson watching me curiously. She’s rearranging her books in the locker next to mine.
‘Why do you hang out with her if you don’t like her?’ she asks me, her voice low.
It’s a worry that other people are picking up on the fact. ‘I like Donna.’ I hesitate. ‘Just not all the time.’
Tamsin gives me a look that suggests she doesn’t believe that. ‘Right.’
She’s one of the few girls at this school who’s always been nice to me. Most people don’t even realise they’re being nasty. It can be so subtle, like simply asking a personal question in front of a large group of people.
‘So you’ve never eaten an Easter egg?’ or ‘Don’t you get tired of people telling you to fuck off when you knock on their door?’
If Tamsin’s around, she usually shuts question time down, sparing me having to answer. Hopefully she knows how grateful I am without me explicitly telling her each time.
Her gaze goes to the bracelets along my arm. ‘Those are cute. Where did you get them?’
I close my locker door. ‘I made them.’
Her eyes widen. ‘Really?’ She catches hold of my wrist, inspecting the bracelets up close. ‘Leather?’
‘Yeah. Mostly recycled leather from belts and bags I find in thrift shops. Though this one’s made from an old horse bridle,’ I say, pointing to it.
‘Clever thing.’ She lets go of my arm. ‘You know, people pay a lot of money for that kind of jewellery.’
‘I can make you one if you want.’
She tilts her head. ‘Aww. I’d love that.’ Glancing back at her friends who are waiting for her, she adds, ‘You should come down to the courts and shoot with us.’
I pull my bag down and retrieve my sandwich. ‘I’m not much of a netballer.’
She laughs. ‘You don’t need to be sporty to join in. We just mess around.’
I wouldn’t know if I’m sporty. I’ve never been allowed to play team sports. ‘I told Donna I’d meet her.’
Something behind me catches Tamsin’s eye. When I look over my shoulder, I find Hunter with his friend Sammy walking down the middle of the corridor. Yes, the middle. You can do that when all the other students scamper out of your way. I can’t remember ever seeing him break stride for anyone.
Hunter glances in my direction, eyes brushing over me. Nothing changes on his face. Then he’s looking forwards again and gone from sight a moment later.
‘Is it just me, or does Hunter look to be in a mood?’ Tamsin asks.