The school bell rang just on 6 a.m. - a criminal time to wake. Izzy slipped her hand between her legs and tried to ignore the maddening sound. Her thoughts were slippery, dreamlike. She'd been up late the night before whispering with her best friend about a boy she once knew. His memory made her warm inside.
The sound of voices floated from the darkened dormitory alerting her tired mind she wasn't alone and dashing any hope of a sensual wake-up. Reluctantly she pulled her arms above the doona.
Rustling sheets and shuffling feet disturbed the quiet morning air. A wardrobe door squeaked.
Could you...just... please all...shut up!
A click of a switch and the blazing overhead neon lights flickered and stuttered into their full beam. Izzy slammed her pillow over her head, holding it firmly down on both sides of her face. Before she could drift back to sleep, an unwelcome thought snuck its way into her sleep-deprived brain.
Mum's sick!
Izzy couldn't un-think the thought. It hung around in awkward, unacknowledged silence, in a cavity of her mind, leaving her inwardly groaning.
Please, please, let her be alright? Izzy prayed to a God she hadn't spoken to in years.
What did we do to deserve this?
Of course, now the horrible thought had been acknowledged, she would have to do something to make it go away, or else, who knew what the day would bring?
Izzy reached into her mind for an affirmation.
'The best view comes after the hardest climb', her mother had said, when she first told Izzy and her older sister Mia about her cancer.
Mia didn't worship at the altar of affirmations as Izzy did. She'd rolled her eyes and begged their mum to talk straight.
'What matters, is I'm fighting this thing all the way to the bank,' their mum had responded. Mixing metaphors was another quirk of their mum's that Mia didn't get.
Izzy smiled, as much at the memory of her sister's exasperated expression, as the feeling of her mum's reassuring hug. Feeling cheered up, she peeked out from under her pillow-her best friend and partner in crime, Amelia Bukowski (Em to her friends), was sitting up in the next bed.
Izzy watched, as Em, with her back turned, slipped her dark-purple silk chemise over her head, and laid it neatly on the bed. It was a ridiculous choice of sleepwear for a Sydney boarding school. The nighty must have cost a fortune and none of the other girls in year 11 had anything like it. Come to think of it, Em had been making quite an effort with her appearance lately. She looked good for it, too. Every morning, after straightening her hair, she would cover her light freckles with foundation and apply a touch of mascara. Not enough to be noticed by a prefect but just the right amount to frame her milky blue eyes endearingly.
Izzy had always considered Em 'pretty', but lately, the word 'beautiful' came to mind more often. With her platinum blonde hair and petite figure, her best friend could probably win over most boys her age, but mediocre wasn't Em's style. She was aiming high.
Last night, Em had confessed that she had a secret crush on a boy. At first, she had been reluctant to tell Izzy who her crush was, but she was just being coy.
'Okay, so it's Dominic,' Em eventually said, 'and I know... I'm going to have to work at it!'
Though not surprised at her choice, Izzy agreed with Em; the guy she was crushing on wasn't an easy catch.
The epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, Dominic 'Dom' Hunter, known to his inner circle as 'Sac', was a student at their brother school and the infatuation of practically every girl at Watford. He wasn't yet back at school from holidays, but Em was devising a plan to get close to him when he arrived.
Izzy had briefly known Dom years earlier when they were thirteen. They'd met at a pony club outside of school and when they realized, they went to the same brother/sister school, began writing paper love letters to each other. The senior girls would transport their perfume-soaked, heart covered envelopes, on their behalf by bus between schools, like carrier pigeons. This innocent romance hadn't lasted long. The school only had mixed classes for seniors, and so, their fledgling love hadn't stood a chance.
Izzy had never mentioned her history with Dom to Em and didn't see a reason to now. In any case, none of it really mattered because he was now in a relationship with a girl in the year above them. A most unusual occurrence. Not to mention, he'd paid no attention to either of them when they'd joined classes with the boys at the start of the school year.
Then again, Em wasn't one to let minor obstacles get in her way. Izzy knew this better than anyone, her best friend had a way of getting what she wanted.
'Alright, so he's a touch out of my league?' Em had said to Izzy as they whispered and giggled into their pillows after lights out.
'So, he's top of class and has a girlfriend in year 12, who also happens to be gorgeous?' Izzy countered. 'No problem there'.
Em had laughed, undeterred, and the girls had fallen into dreamy silence before they eventually drifted off to sleep.
Now exhausted from these late-night whisperings, Izzy tried to find the motivation to get up. She could hear her other two roommates, Tal and Zara, talking to one another. Tal had the highest pitched voice. Zara shushed her and not long after, Tal left the dormitory in a hurry, restoring the peace.
As Izzy lay in bed savouring this last moment of quiet, before the day got all hectic, she felt a sudden thump! The full weight of a sizeable feather-down pillow landed across her.
'Get up, sleepyhead!'
'Ahh, Em, go away!' Izzy mumbled.
'Come on, Iz, it's time to move; you don't want to be late again.'
'Me?' Izzy grumbled. 'I'm never late.' She sat up and stretched, blinking her eyes against the bright light. 'I can pull myself together in the time it takes you to do your hair.'
'That's bullshit! You're never not late.' Back from the bathroom, Tal had her best no-nonsense tone. 'You're the worst morning person, I know. C'mon, get dressed, Isabella. You make our dorm look bad.'
Izzy swung her feet to the floor reluctantly bawling her eyes with her fists. She knew Tal was right; Ms. Woodhouse was on duty, and she wasn't in the mood to take on that dragon.