The Days Of Kelsea's

(34) Kelsea - Friday 22nd September, 1.15 pm, School library

"What?"

"Let's get off. Now." She whirled round, her blue eyes a watercolour-type grey. Lucy pushed past me, knocking me with her school bag in the back of my knee so I almost collapsed to the ground.

Before I followed her I scanned the seats for anyone we knew who she might want to avoid. But there was just a sea of faces and school uniform blue, with nothing or no one that stood out.

"Lucy! Get back here!" I yelled as she walked away down the road and our bus up the hill, in the opposite direction. I caught up to her and grabbed her shoulder.

"We can walk."

"Walk!?" I yelled. Oh, I was so pissed off you wouldn't believe. She had made us miss our bus, and we were walking down the hill aimlessly - there wouldn't be another bus for a whole hour, the place was so deserted - the school is the only building around that area.

What's more, it wasn't exactly a warm spring day. It was a cold September afternoon with the wind swirling in our ears and leaves swirling around our legs. Clouds hung between us and the sun and Lucy was completely ignoring me.

"Lucy, why did you do that? What happened."

But my sister just kept treading on as if something had happened and it was my fault.

"Lucy, for God's sake answer me!" I felt like screaming.

I want to scream right now. All around me the musty, stuffy silence of the library is stifling me. A part of me feels like locking myself in a cubicle in the girls' toilets. Another part of me feels like going out onto the football field and screaming until my throat is raw.

I don't understand her at all, I don't understand Lucy one bit - why she's almost always looking under the weather, why she was sick and then better, why she sometimes answers and sometimes doesn't.

"Shut up, Kelsea. Shut up. You don't understand!" She yelled right back at me. As if I'd done something wrong! I wanted to spin around and slap her.

We'd have to walk for almost an hour. Or for half an hour to the next suitable bus stop, then wait until God only knows what time.

"No, I don't. So tell me what why are we not on the bus - why we are walking around like this!" I shouted.

Lucy looked wild. Her hair wasn't as straight as usual - all of a sudden I realised that it's become more like mine - wavy, almost curly. Though it's still longer and lighter. Her eyes flashed and turned a darker shade of grey that I've never seen there before; that I've never seen anywhere. The soft sky blue or the grey blue that was there a few moments ago wasn't even existent now.

"Why're you upset? Tell me!"

"STOP IT!" She screamed then, and it sounded all animalistic and strangled. A few birds over head took off from their branches in a flurry.

That's when I noticed the tears streaming down over her freckle-dusted cheeks, clear and fresh. I reached out to put my hand on her arm, or her shoulder, or anything - I don't even know - but quickly she sped off down the hill, her black scarf trailing behind her.

A small piece of paper flew out of her bag, and I caught it as I watched her run. Then I started after her, not calling, just following, and when I caught up I didn't say anything; just stayed.

Of course she didn't speak either. It wasn't until after our silent walk to the bus stop many roads away and after the bus journey and walk up to our front door and not until I was safely in my room until I unfolded the piece of paper that had fallen out of her bag, and flown into my hand like a white leaf.

There was a load of writing. I recognised some as Lucy's hand in blue biro, and then there was some other writing that was messy and unable to read in some places, all in black ink. But after reading a few bits I realised that it was conversation. It reminded me of the notes I used to pass with Demi, and sometimes still do.

I've glued the piece of paper in, here; you can read it.

••••

Hi Lucy

I told you to stop.

Well I cant - your gonna hav to do something about - yu know.

No, I don't know.

You do know and it's not right. If u don't tell someone then I'm gonna

No you're not. Please Luke don't. Please.

I'm not gonna always be there to stick up for you, you no.

I don't care. I know. Just you can't tell anyone, please.

So you definitely aren't coming on saturday

I'm sorry. No

Well I'm gonna miss u.

••••

Who the hell is Luke? And what's this thing about him sticking up for her? And what's on Saturday?

I have a feeling I'm going to be playing detective, and I'm terrified.

Kelsea