Jessie had been cryptic as ever when I asked what she had planned for after school. I was running over a few ideas in my head when all of a sudden I felt a body ram into my side, pushing me into the lockers. I raised a hand to my head which had violent whacked against the small metal doors and looked up to see three girls walking away, laughing. My Religious Studies teacher – the only decent adult in the entire school came over to me and gave me a hand up. “Are you okay?” she asked. I nodded, but she didn’t move an inch. “Those girls shouldn’t have done that,” she said, and I smiled gratefully at her.
After the incident in class with Mr Fairfax when I outsmarted him, I had taken to not talking much in school. Some days would go by and I didn’t say a single word. Miss Graham was young and kind and she looked at me directly in the eye, making it hard for me to lie. “Why don’t you talk?” she asked sympathetically. I shrugged my shoulders, feeling more bound to silence than ever for fear of saying something wrong. Miss Graham was my favourite teacher and I knew if I opened my mouth I would only embarrass myself. “Do you talk to anyone?” she asked, and I nodded thinking of Jessie. “Well, that’s good I suppose. If you ever need someone, I’m here.” She smiled at me one last time then walked off down the corridor.
I turned right and walked through some double doors, and as I did Mr Fairfax left his classroom and began walking towards me. “Eva,” he still couldn’t pronounce my name right. “I didn’t see you in class this morning.” Before he could continue I pretended I didn’t hear him, looked at my watch and turned on my heels to walk away. Running back down a flight of stairs I bumped into Jessie and felt a wave of relief. Neither of us had time to talk – she was on her way to Performing Arts and I had to get to RS but just seeing her made my heart sing. Concerned I would be late as I now had to take the long way round in order to avoid Mr Fairfax, I broke into a slow run along the corridors.
Silently I walked to my seat and kept my head down; I figured if I couldn’t see everyone staring at me then somehow it would mean they weren’t. I sat down and flicked my eyes up briefly – unfortunately my plan had failed and all eyes were disgustedly locked on me. Miss Graham smiled at me, noticing the way everyone acted towards me, and then began the lesson. The lesson title flashed onto the screen at the front of the class and just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. The main heading read “Marriage and Relationships”, and the sub-topics we were studying were divorce, sex before marriage, and homosexuality.
I sat for most of the double lesson painfully waiting for the final topic to be discussed, and for a moment I had a slight hope that we wouldn’t have time. Then, the next slide came up and the whole class sniggered. “Christian attitudes to homosexuality,” Miss Graham read. Planning to just sit there in silence and keep my head down, yet again my plan was foiled when a girl from my old school spoke up, “Shouldn’t we ask Eva about this? I mean, she’s a Christian and a gay.” It annoyed me that she said ‘a gay’ as if I was some sort of species to be examined, but that was the least of my worried when the whole class spun round to stare at the gay.
“Is it true?”
“I knew it. You can tell by her hair.”
“I don’t want to sit near her.”
“She’s got dyke written all over her.”
All I could hear was the comments that now filled the classroom and the tapping of keys as several people whipped out their phones to text their friends about the breaking news. Miss Graham clapped her hands to pull everyone’s attention back to the matter at hand and I sat in silence, biting my cheek to stop the tears spilling out. At last the bell rang and I hurriedly shoved my books in my bag. I tried to pack as fast as I could to leave the room first, but nerves made me drop everything and instead I ended up being the last one in the room. Miss Graham came over to me and put her hand on my arm. “Don’t listen to them,” she said. I bit my cheek even harder, determined not to cry in front of anyone. “You’re fine just the way you are,” she continued, and one silent tear ran down my cheek. I smiled gratefully, and then turned to leave.
I ran past the gossip, the bitching, the laughing, and reached the side gate where I was meeting Jessie. Soon after I reached the door Jessie joined me, smiling knowingly about whatever she had planned. “Is that her girlfriend?” a voice called out from behind us. Before Jessie could investigate I pulled her out of school and focused on where we were going. A taxi took us into London and no matter how much I persisted she wouldn’t tell me exactly what we were doing. Instead she asked, “How was RS?” There was a certain tone to her voice that sounded different, like she was asking but she knew the answer.
“You know, don’t you?” I said. Jess nodded, and I didn’t know what to feel. At least she didn’t hate me; after all she hadn’t cancelled our plans. “I don’t care,” she said and a smile crept onto my face. “Are you sure?” I asked, doubting whether her response was too good to be true. “Honestly, it’s no big deal.” Before I could triple check whether she meant it, the taxi stopped and Jessie unbuckled her seatbelt signalling that we had arrived. I looked at the building before us and began to panic. “A hospital… What… Jessie?”
I followed her through the doors and saw multiple signs reading “Great Ormond Street Hospital”. Suddenly remembering the phone call in the back of the taxi a couple of days ago, I realised this must have been what it was about. Jessie went up to the reception desk but I was too distracted to hear what she was saying. The receptionist pointed directions and handed her two visitors badges, which Jessie came and clipped one onto my shirt. I followed her around the winding corridors and staircases until we reached a bright, colourful room that was full of young children. Before we went in she explained, “I help out here. Every now and then I volunteer to come in and sing for an hour or so with the children. I thought you might like to help me.”
Yet again I was amazed at how perfect Jessie was, and then replied, “I can’t sing.” She laughed and said, “So bang a tambourine or something.” We walked through the door and the children instantly flocked around Jessie, and then me. I copied Jessie and sat down on the carpet and all the children mimicked. A box of instruments was passed around and the children began eagerly shaking or hitting them. Jessie took out a tambourine and then passed me a similar one. “Okay!” she said, commanding the attention of everyone in the room, even the nurses seem hypnotised by her. “What would you like to sing first…? Harvey?”
A young boy with a tube leading to his nose said in a tiny voice, “Dance with somebody.” That sentence alone made him have to take in several deep breaths as if he had run around the room five times. Jessie nodded and began to hit the beat to the Whitney song on her tambourine. The children joined in and so did I, but nothing could have prepared me for the amazing voice that left Jessie’s lips. It was amazing – she hit every note perfectly and filled the room with her rich, strong voice.
Several songs later I was pretty confident in knowing everyone’s names, and a little girl called Mia who was wearing a pink headscarf put her hand up. “Who’s that?” she asked, pointing to me. Jessie opened her mouth into a gasp and said, “Did I forget to introduce my guest?” The room was filled with children’s laughter and many of them nodded their heads. Jessie took my hand and said, “This is my best friend, Eva.” Everyone waved at me and said hello, and a nurse came over and announced it was time for snack. The children who could walk rushed to the table, some were wheeled, and others had a nurse come and assist them to walk.
A girl in a wheelchair whose name I hadn’t learned yet turned to her nurse and said, “I want Eva to push me!” Jessie looked at me with a gleam in her eyes and walked me over to the girl to introduce me. “Eva,” she said, “Meet Ava, spelt with an A. Ava, meet Eva spelt with an E.” The girl seemed absolutely mind-blown that we both had the same name but spelt differently, and wouldn’t stop telling everyone as I wheeled her over to the snack table. Jessie handed me a glass of milk, and I took a sip making sure I left a wet stain on my upper lip. All of a sudden the children burst out laughing and pointed at my face. “What? Do I have something on my lip?”
Even Jessie was laughing as I pretended to not notice my milk-moustache, and eventually a boy called Charlie reached up and wiped my mouth with a napkin for me. Too soon we had to say goodbye, and all the children hugged us both several times each. As I walked out the door I turned to Jessie and said, “You never fail to amaze me.” She grinned proudly and replied, “Me? What about you? I’ve never known anyone to be a bigger hit with those kids.” I smiled, thinking back to the adorable sound of their laughter. We walked along the street to find a taxi and I said, “You have an incredible voice by the way. You should write songs or something.” Jessie merely shook her head, and I added modesty to the list of qualities I loved about her. Remembering our conversation from the previous night about how talking about a certain topic made it easier to deal with, I said, “We’ve got less than a week left.” Jessie turned and looked deep into my eyes. She smiled and took my hand before saying, “I know.”