while she talked, her eyes darting around the room. It was like she was nervous of me but I think maybe it’s just that she doesn’t know how to behave after something like this. Maybe she’s trying too hard to be normal. Hayley cut her off in the end, otherwise I think she’d have been going on about school all night.
‘That policewoman actually thought you might have tried to kill yourself.’ Hayley grinned when she said it. ‘I mean, fucking what?’
It made me laugh a bit, too. I told them about Dr Harvey and how I have to go to all these follow-up counselling sessions, and rolled my eyes and laughed at how bland and dull and boring she is. (She really is.) I didn’t tell them about this notebook, though. About how I’m supposed to write everything down. Firstly, it’s private and I’m only doing it because I’m so bored, and secondly, I don’t want them thinking I’m putting everything we say and do in here and that someone else might want to read it. (That’s not going to happen! Dr Harvey can keep her head out of my head.) I don’t want them worrying about that.
‘Are you okay, though?’ Hayley asked.
The question was heavier than it needed to be and their smiles were suddenly gone. I could see beneath their veneer for a moment – because veneer is what we three do so well – to the worry underneath. We were in different territory – uncharted waters. I nearly died. I did die and I don’t remember why. It changes everything.
I said, ‘Yeah.’ My voice isn’t quite such a growl any more but I still sound as if I’ve had the worst tonsillitis ever. I said I just wanted to get out of here and Hayley said she didn’t blame me because the whole place smells like old people.
It does and we all laughed at that – Hayley’s not often funny, but when she is it’s dry and on the money – and the weird tension faded. Things have changed but our old camaraderie is like me: it doesn’t die easily.
Jenny gave me a copy of The Crucible from her bag. She’d had to get it from Mr Jones. She admitted she’d looked for my copy when they found my iPod and other stuff to bring me but couldn’t find it. She flushed slightly as she said that. I wondered how much rummaging through my stuff they really did. How many drawers did you two check out? All of them? The boxes under my bed?
The copy she handed me was battered and worn but I liked the feel of the paper. Apparently the auditions are on Friday now. They made Mr Jones put them back so I could take part. ‘You’ll make a great Abigail,’ Jenny said. Jenny was really thinking that she’d make a great Abigail but she’ll never say it. She wouldn’t before and she definitely won’t now. Even if she was offered the part I bet she’d persuade Mr Jones to give it to me. Jenny is such a pleaser . Most of the time, anyway. And the thing is, she probably will get offered it. I’m good – I’m way better than Mr Jones gives me credit for – but Jenny shines on a stage. She doesn’t realise it, though. Not properly. She is sort of sweet at heart, I guess. In her own way. We may be quite different, we three best friends, but we all love Drama, in life and on stage. We all love the school plays. It’s where we rule.
‘Maybe he’ll give James Ensor the part of John Proctor,’ Hayley joked. We laughed at that. I went on two dates with James in the summer after drunkenly kissing him at a party. The hottest boy in school, or so they say. I thought he had a tongue like a wet fish and clumsy hands that shook too much. It was never going any further and James has mooned around after me ever since. I’ve never told Hayley or Jenny – even we have our secrets – but I don’t really understand the sex thing. I giggle and squeal along but I must be the only girl in school who pretends things have gone further than they really have. The idea of it leaves me cold. Maybe I belong in that river in some ways. Maybe I should be Elizabeth Proctor, not