Helen went about her business, then returned home to her big family and their comfortable life. She would watch the family sometimes too, from the garden late at night when the sea was at its loudest, shouting in her ears. She would look up at them moving between the windows of the house. She had to stop herself from screaming at them all.

It wasn’t fair.

None of this was fair.

10

THEN

I’m still annoyed when we finish school. I saw Tracey come into my English class after lunch, her shirt smeared red like she’d been stabbed, despite her obvious attempts to wash it off. She avoided all of us and sat at the back. The school photos were a nightmare, with Eloise, Steph and Emily insisting that the photographer take extra shots so that they were in the best light, while Tracey had to cover up with a borrowed jumper from lost property that smelled strongly of sweat.

I should’ve known better than to invite her to sit with us. Not without checking with Eloise first. What she says, goes. It’s always been that way and I’ve never questioned it, but now I’m starting to think there should be more to our friendship than endless conversations about boys and fashion trends after all these years. I feel like I have been hurtled onto a completely different path to them.

Thank god we are nearly done with all of this and I can get out of here, far away from their small-mindedness.

As I walk towards the bus queue, my feet trailing behind the other three, I notice Tracey head out of the main entrance and turn towards the gates.

“Shit, I’ve forgotten my history book. I have to go back inside,” I say.

“Well, hurry up. I’ll keep you your usual seat.”

The bus is pulling up in front of us, people piling in. I can see Brian in the back row. He is looking out of the back window and waving at us.

“No, you go on – Brian clearly wants you to sit next to him. I think I’ll walk today anyway. I could do with it after eating that toasted cheese at lunch.” Except I didn’t eat it, but they wouldn’t have noticed that. They were too busy fluttering their eyelashes at Brian and his mates or laughing at Tracey.

“Actually, yes, you probably should. All that grease will go straight on your hips,” Eloise says and pushes past the younger kids as usual. Steph and Em follow suit. The younger kids just make room, none of them brave enough to take her on.

I wait for the bus to pull away, then follow the route Tracey took. I walk fast, trying to catch up to her. I can smell the sea salt in the air, tangy, fresh. Soon enough, I see her ahead of me and the bus well ahead in the distance.