Learn To: Exist

after zero

James stood up and pulled a face. Standing at six foot one, he was considerably taller than most boys in their year; but compared to Edith, he wasn't really. Frowning, she turned to look at him, “What?” 

James laughed. “Why can’t you go five minutes without shoving food down your gob? You just had crisps before detention.”

“I like food,” Edith answered lamely and resumed walking. “Anyway, detention was pretty long.”

“No it wasn’t,” said James, doubling his footsteps so he could catch up with her, since she had a habit of walking pretty fast and she had a bit of a head start. “It was only an hour, Diths.”

“Still, it was long for me.” she murmured, taking a few steps away from James, allowing a couple to walk between them, with both pairs ignoring one another.

“I’m starting to doubt your sense of estimation,” James chuckled, earning him a glare from Edith.

“Shut up,” she snapped back. “You were the one who called it ‘five minutes’.”

Despite her words, Edith wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Hunger and weariness didn’t mix well; they often left her feeling grumpy and sometimes even jumpy. Of course, the fact that they had just walked out of the detention room after a one-sided conversation with the funky-smelling discipline mistress who loved to yell at her didn’t help her mood either.

Earlier that morning, Edith had woken up late, taken too long in the shower and had to run to school with only one shoe on. If anything, she should be home by now, with a plate of meat pie on the coffee table and with her body lazily slouched on the couch in front of the telly. But of course, detention was inevitable. It always seemed to be.

They pushed open the big, oak doors that were situated at the end of the hallways, and exited the building. The air was relatively cold and the wind spared no mercy as it whipped through Edith’s hair, sending her red curls into a slight frenzy. Their usual clique was at the bottom of the stairs, standing in a half-circle. They were talking about prom and Edith dreaded it.

“Hi Diths,” said Maculey, as soon as she and James joined them. Smiling, he angled his body to face a reasonably shorter girl and patted her head, “You might want to sit this one out. Sammy here has been going on and on about the Winter Dance since second period so you might want to leave before you end up punching her in the face.”

“Ugh,” groaned Edith. “You guys are such kids! I don’t hate the Winter Dance, I just don’t believe in spending over fifty quid on a dress and slapping on make-up just for a stupid twirl in a ballroom.”

“Right,” snorted James. She nudged him in the stomach before he could react but that didn’t stop him from stomping on her feet. Letting out a yelp of pain, Edith grabbed the collar of James’s shirt and pushed him back as hard as she could.

“You pig!” she scolded, whilst shaking her feet. “That actually hurt, arsehole. Christ, how much do you weigh? Five hundred tonnes?” 

Sammy had suddenly burst out laughing. Edith grimaced. Sammy’s laughed was infamous for sounding like a mixture of a hyena coughing and a wolf howling with a sore throat.

The three of them were used to Edith’s constant squabbles with James and they knew better than to try and mediate. Most of the time, they were funny. Other times, they were violently inappropriate.

This time, it was a fairly good mixture of both.

Regaining his balance, James grunted in attempt to wave off the embarrassment that was currently placed upon him like a badge of stupidity. “Don’t make me punch you, Diths.”