chapter two! the detention
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"Please Michelle,"
Erin begged the loudmouth Mallon, as the girls gathered for lunch in an abandoned corridor.
"No," Michelle sighed for what felt like the hundredth time since Erin had been begging her since David Donnelly had mentioned it that morning, "I have no interest in David Donnelly's spazmo band."
"They look nice," Clare mumbled, longingly staring at the packet of crips in Michelle's hand.
"I can't go on my own," Erin carried on ignoring Clare, who sat creepily watching each girl with their lunches.
"Are they nice?"
"Clare, are you sure you don't want half my sandwich?" Aoife asked, holding half of her strawberry jam sandwich in front of the short blonde.
"I can't do that to Kamal," she denied, hugging her sponsor pack closer to her chest.
"Bring Bobby Sands," Michelle suggested, pointing to the hunger-stricken blonde beside Aoife.
"Sure, how could I go? I'm so weak I can barely walk," Clare complained, slumping further down in her chair.
"Just think about how much good you're doing for Kamal," Aoife cheered, a supportive smile gracing her stained pink lips.
"What about Orla?" the Mallon girl suggested, gesturing a crisp towards the odd girl, who sat inspecting each one of her fingers individually.
"I love my wee fingers," Orla spoke up, a temporary silence blanketing the group.
"Orla's mental," Erin argued, brushing off the fact that her statement saddened her cousin slightly.
"It's okay, Orla, you're a good sort of mental," Aoife reassured, wrapping her half-eaten sandwich back in the clingfilm it had been wrapped in, just in case Clare decided to take her up on her earlier offer.
"Take Aoife she's perfectly normal," Michelle pointed to the redhead, who had begun fishing in her blazer pocket for a piece of titty fruity bubblegum.
"Can't, I have detention tonight," Aoife quickly denied before Erin had the chance to insult her.
"It's the first day, how did you get detention already?" Michelle asked in an attempt to move on from the topic of David Donnelly's gig, which had all that Erin had spoken about all day.
"I fell asleep in maths, Fitzpatrick is just making it a bigger deal than it needs to be," the O'Malley groaned, dropping the bubblegum she had removed from her pocket into her mouth.
Michelle offered the girl a sympathetic smile, she'd had Mrs Fitzpatrick the year before for maths and she knew her strict the ageing maths teacher was.
"Come on, Michelle. I'm begging you. It's my chance with David. I'd do it for you," Erin argued, quickly moving on from Aoife's detention back onto the previous topic of David Donnelly.
"Fine," the girl caved in, Erin jumped slightly in her chair, a smile spreading across her face, "but we know you're just gonna sit in the corner like a frigid fuck."
"I'm not frigid,"
"What about when I invited you to Lorcan Gallagher's party," Aoife argued, popping her bubblegum bubble.
"You've never even kissed a boy before you practice on your pillow, but you don't think that's the same," Orla quoted, Aoife guessed that the quirky girl had gotten the information from Erin's diary, which she had been reading all summer.
"The reading of the diary was bad enough. I could do without you quoting it from memory," Erin snapped, desperate for Orla to stop routing through her belongings.
"Michelle, would you mind, showing me where the toilet is?" James asked, leaning forward closer to Michelle.
"You are really starting to do my head in, do you know that?" Michelle snapped at her cousin, Aoife rolled her green eyes at the mouthy girl, who had spent the whole day insulting James every second she could.
The school tannoy system crackled to life and the voice of the receptionist echoed through the halls,
"Will the following pupils, please report to Sister Michael's office immediately. Erin Quinn, Orla McCool, Clare Devlin, Michelle Mallon and the wee English fella. Thank you,"
"I wonder what that could be about,"
• • • • • • •
Sister Michael had sentenced the four girls and James to three hours worth of detention that evening, joining Aoife in her evening with Sister Declan. All through last period, Erin had complained about missing David Donnelly's gig, claiming that he'd personally invited her that morning in front of Denis's.
The O'Malley girl was slumped at a desk situated in front of James and behind Michelle, lazily shading in the trademark big hair of the inky version of Michelle. Orla glancing over Aoife's shoulder every couple of minutes, amazed by her cousin's drawing.
"I cannot believe this. I'm missing David Donnelly's gig, Michelle," Erin complained, glaring at the Mallon girl.
"And all because of that miniature motherfucker," Michelle scoffed, turning in her seat to face Erin.
"I swear if you say 'motherfucker' one more time-" Erin scowled.
"What's wrong with you?"
"This is your fault,"
"Why is it my fault?" Michelle asked, furrowing her dark eyebrows.
"Cause you're the one who threatened a first year, you're the one who gave Jenny Joyce the finger," Erin spat out, shaking her head at the girl, who she claimed had caused all of her problems.
"David Donnelly's band isn't even that good, Erin," Aoife spoke up, dropping the fancy pen Orin had bought her onto the desk, "They played at one of Lorcan's parties a couple months back."
"I'm desperate now. This is agony," James complained, his face crinkling with discomfort.
"Can you please stop crying in my face for five fucking minutes?" Michelle growled at the English boy.
Aoife shook her head at her mouthy best friend before turning in her seat to face the English boy behind her, "I live close to the bus stop, so you can pee there if you want?"
"Thank you so much," James desperately nodded, his heart warming at the redhead's offer.
"I feel awful," Clare mumbled, running her hand across her face, "I think my body is going into starvation mode. I think it's starting to shut down."
"Please just have my sandwich, Clare," Aoife begged, hating seeing her friend in distress.
"For Christ's sake, Clare," Michelle complained, "you've just basically skipped lunch."
Erin's eyes fall upon Orla, who sat up intrigued by the appearance of a familiar book, "Orla, that better not be what I think it is. You better not have brought my diary to school."
"I had to. I'm doing my book report on it, Aoife's helping me," Orla innocently explained.
"Give it to me!"
"No,"
"What's going on here, girls?" Sister Declan asked walking over to the bickering cousins.
"She has my diary, Sister. She won't give it back," Erin explained, looking over at the book that lay open in front of Orla.
"I'll take that," Sister Declan announced snatching that diary from Orla's hands, "Sit down."
James' hand shot up once more, hoping that Sister Declan would finally permit him to use the toilet, "Mr Maguire, you have been warned, do not ask me again."
"This is disgraceful, I should have access to a lavatory," James frowned, waving his hands around.
Aoife shot the boy a sympathetic smile, watching as Sister Declan shook her hand at the English boy's protest.
"What about my civil rights?"
"Students don't have civil rights," the redhead mumbled under her breath, picking up her pen once again.
"Corner,"
After confiscating Michelle's signature lipstick and Aoife's fancy pen, Sister Declan returned to the desk at the front of the classroom. The girls watched in disgust as the elderly Sister dropped the confiscated items into her handbag and began to read Erin's diary.
"Your boring fucking diary sent her to sleep," Michelle spat at the blonde.
"Is your life really that boring, Erin?" Aoife asked turning around to face her cousin.
The girls made their way over to the sleeping Sister Declan, desperate to retrieve their belongings before the teaching woke. As Aoife, Michelle, Orla and Clare gathered around the sleeping nun, Erin took it as her opportunity to climb out the window and escape to David Donnelly's gig.
"It's funny how she sleeps with her eyes wide open, isn't it?" Orla asked, holding the nun's head up for the rest of the girls to see.
"Sweet suffering Jehovah!"