Basorexia - J.MAGUIRE

[1.04] secrets

Slowly, the five girls and James all headed down to Sister Michael's office while trying to figure out a plan that would keep them out of trouble the most. Each plan had its downfalls and were mostly thought of by a panicked Clare who was shaking awfully, a sign Ciara knew was her body's call for sugar mixed with a typical not wanting to get into trouble pent up energy. Ciara and James stood off to the side as the four girls accused sat on the bench, all with varying emotions that created a tense atmosphere.

"I can't find the boys toilets anywhere," James stated, having just come back from a wonder, desperately looking to Michelle for an answer. It was clear that he was desperate and not likely to be able to hold it until the hour.

"It's an all girls school dicko," Michelle snapped back, her own hidden anxiousness added to the frustration fueled anger that she put upon James. Ciara sighed softly, knowing what she would have to do.

A few minutes of trying to convince Clare to just eat something passed before the girls were called into the office. Chip grabbed onto the strap of James' bag and pulled him to hide behind the wall, knowing that if they were seen they were likely to be pulled in too. Ciara couldn't afford detention right now, due to her after school plans, and James being in sight would only add to the likeness that Sister Michael's assistant would see them.

They both peaked around the corner of the peeling plastered wall and watched as the four girls disappeared into the office, the sound of the heavy door shutting creating an eerie sense of Deja Vu within Chip. Once he was sure he would not be heard, James turned to Chip and softly yet hopefully asked, "Do you think they'll let me use the staff toilets?"

"Nope," she replied simply, watching as the annoyance flashed behind his eyes again. She however sighed, catching his attention again before she turned to head down the corridor nearest to them. "Follow me."

"Where are we going?" he wondered aloud, running in order to catch up to her. Ciara had always walked quickly, her brother even had to run to catch up to her when they were young. She had many memories of him chasing after her and never quite being able to catch her. Her quick strides, despite what Dr.W thought, were nothing to do with her disorder. But James, unlike every other person she had ever met, did not comment on them.

"Promise you won't tell anyone?" she whispered, turning her head to watch for his reaction. He reluctantly nodded, not quite knowing what was going on. But at this point, this was the nicest anyone had been to him all day so he welcomed whatever was going on. "There's an old bathroom at the end of this hallway, no one uses it," she continued, watching as James' face almost lit up with relief at her words.

He followed her quietly, weaving around people as she did until the floor beneath their feet turned dull. The walls slowly became covered in spider webs, plaster peeling from the walls in the corner. He watched as she looked around for anyone, then processed to lift two layers of bright yellow tape that looked relatively undisturbed. "Are we supposed to be down here?" he mumbled just loud enough that she could hear as she ducked under the tape, holding it up with enough space for him to get underneath too

"No. But don't worry, the camera's are cut down here," she responded softly, turning at the very end of the corridor to disappear behind a brown, splintered door. He looked just above the door, at a worn toilet sign, and noticed a camera with suspiciously cut wires dangling above his head. He had fully expected the bathroom behind the door to the the exact same condition as the corridor they had wandered down previously. Instead, surprisingly, the bathroom looked almost squeaky clean and was fully stocked with everything it would need. Even a few candles decorated the side where the sinks were, along with makeup remover and a few makeup products. "End stalls the only one that still works," Chip announced, her voice echoing around the room as he looked around in almost astonishment. Ciara hadn't even told her friend group about this bathroom, well apart from Orla when she went through that period of meeting some awful people in the regular bathrooms. So, as she was the only girl who even knew that those cameras no longer worked and dared to go down that corridor, she made it her own and kept it clean.

"Thank you," James smiled then hurried into the end stall, the door swinging closed just as she kicked the dryer. It sprung into life and filled the room with white noise, covering up any noise as well as the sound of her lighter. She stared out of the window and directed all the smoke out of the open window, knowing that the fire alarms within the room were also disabled.

After a minute, James emerged from the bathroom, looking far more relaxed, and moved towards the sinks. He tried them all before finding the one that worked. He awkwardly wiped his hands on his trousers to dry them, not wanting to turn on the dryer and interrupt whatever peace he thought she was within while smoking. He wrung his hands, discreetly rocking on his feet, while thinking of something to say.

"Michelle said your name was Chip, is that right?" he queried, having cleared his throat to not feel so awkward breaking the silence.

"Aye. It's a nickname, everyone calls me it," she smiled, resting the cigarette on her knee as she spoke.

He raised his eyebrows, intrigue beginning to show clearly. "Where'd it come from?"

Ciara hesitated for a moment, took the final drag of her cigarette, then put it out on the bowl next to where she was sitting. "I don't actually remember. My Mammy has called me it since I was young, same with Cal, my brother. And since I hate my name, it stuck I guess," she replied as she hopped off the windowsill. He watched as she dug in her pocket and pulled out a small tin of mints. After offering him one, which he denied, she popped one onto her tongue and walked over to the mirror.

"What's so awful about your name?" he wondered, moving out of the way of the mirror that she approached without so much as taking an eye off the look in her eyes. He could not figure out what it meant.

"You won't be getting that out of me very easily James," she laughed as she checked her makeup in the mirror. She sighed as she lifted up her eyeliner, fixing the corner where it always rubbed off no matter what she did. "Not a lot of people know my actual name," she continued, knowing that the suspense towards it all was killing him. She found it rather easy to read his body language. Whether it was just that he was an easy person to read or she just instantly had a knack with reading him in particular.

His eyes widened, brow scrunching as he blurted, "Seriously?"

"Oh Aye, even the nuns call me it," she shrugged, setting the black tube back down on the counter just as the bell rung. The sound echoed down the corridor and rattled against the walls, signaling it was time for them to get to lesson and find out what had happened with the girls in with Sister Michael.

James and Ciara sat together in English, then on the bus ride home where they were alone as the girls had managed to land themselves a detention. She had managed to get James talking about England and his Mam. She liked listening to his memories. Maybe it was because they were so completely different to anything in Derry and acted as a reminder that this was not the only thing in the world. She liked the fact that the more he talked, the more comfortable around her he seemed. He even ended up walking her home then, since he did not know where he was nor how to get to his house, she walked him back while giving an 'essential tour' of the main parts of Derry that they could hit on their walk.

Ciara was so late home that she almost missed Therapy. Almost, thanks to Cal's natural speeding and disregard for any sign on the roads.