October
It’s October right now. Two months or actually more like three months until Christmas. I can’t wait!
But till then, I need to be a good little girl so that I don’t have any arguments near Christmas or I won't have presents for myself. I might sound like a little eight-year-old girl but, guess what? This in fact is coming from a fifteen-year-old. Most people before they see me and just read my work think I’m way younger too, so you’re not the only one. Actually, that’s a lie. People even after seeing me think I’m in Year 7, starting school. Like seriously? Have you actually ever seen Year 7s? They’re so tiny (and cute)! And look at me: An actual GCSE student (almost leaving school). Year 11. PPEs. Exam stress. No fun and games at all.
I hate all this!
Oh, I just realised I didn’t tell you my name. I’m Victoria Margaret, but my friends call me Via, and I prefer it that way. As you have the permission of reading my life right now, you might as well call me Via; that’s if you can actually call me and I have the ability to respond to you.
Right now, I’m on my way to school. It’s a Monday morning, and I’m dreading walking. I hate walking with a heavy bag, but I have to as congestion is rising day by day and last Friday when I did take the bus, I reached school extremely late. Don’t even ask; it was a total nightmare (with a lot of exhaustion and annoyance). It’s kind of ironic as buses and cars are supposed to shorten the journey, right? I even missed the assembly. Call it a coincidence, or luck/fate, but, whenever I’m late to school, somehow it’s always an assembly day.
I manage to reach school on time, and my friend Mia is there at the gate, on her phone. I nudge her to get off it and we go to the playground area (which is so not a playground just for the sake of your imagination).
“What’s up?” I ask her because she was giggling on her phone earlier.
“Nothing much.”
“Nothing isn’t an option!" I blurt out in mild rage. I hate when people say nothing when I ask them what’s up.
She shrugged.
“Why were you laughing, Mia?” I finally get straight to the point.
“When?” She took a pause and then my words slowly linger in her brain. “Ohhh! I was talking to a friend.”
“Ohhh! I was talking to a friend”, I mimic. “Which friend?”
“Tom, ahh he’s so cute!”
I just stood there with my jaw dropped.
“Since when did you start liking boys?" I made my question sound like, since when did you start vaping?
She got quiet after that. I think she felt ashamed of herself. Maybe even ashamed of me. Or maybe, just maybe, I might have felt a tiny bit ashamed of myself for asking such an immature question. Why did I even ask it if I was curious about her giggling in the first place?
I don’t see them after she went to talk to a teacher, so I spend the time with my other friend Jo, whose birth name is Josephine (I won’t say her real name because Jo isn’t a fake name either). But, it’s not like only her friends call her Jo. Literally, everyone calls her Jo, except for the substitute teachers and the new teachers and the mean-teachers-who-only-call-you-by-your-actual-legal-name, which is weird because calling a person by their full name when they don’t like it should be illegal.
Jo is a quintessence of a tomboy, just like I’m a quintessence of a nerd. A girl with braces, and glasses. I learned that word yesterday, it means a classic example of something. Jo is wearing an oversized black jacket that is way too long for her but you know, her style matters and the opinions of others don’t count. I’m wearing my red velvet cardigan over a black top and beige-coloured pants. Classic for a nerd like me.
“Via, you’re zoning out again!” I hear Jo call which alerts me to reality.
“Sorry,” I quickly say.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just-”
“Shut up, Victoria Margaret. I’m a detective and your BFF. I can tell when something’s up.”
“But nothing’s up!”
She decided to doubt herself and there was this awkward moment of silence.
“Okay, okay. But, I think Mia is…”
“Uh-huh? What is she up to?”
“She has a boyfriend, I think?”
“Really, Mia? That’s the best thing I heard! Aren’t you happy for her?!”
Then she looked at my face and said the most hurtful words anyone has ever said to me.
“Oh, wait. Are you jealous?”
