"SO DO YOU HAVE a partner yet?"
I hear Archie's voice from behind me after he's grabbed his A3 sketch pad from his slot.
"Nope." I shake my head.
Other than Archie, no one has jumped out at me as a partner, and I could see that pretty much everyone had been taken. I didn't mind working on my own if I had to though, and I'm sure Mrs Doctor would allow it.
"Have you decided your theme?" He asks.
"Nope." I shake my head again and give him an over-exaggerated grin.
He snorts, "Me neither."
I sit and start sketching an idea from my head when I hear him sigh.
"So looks like it's me and you, then?"
I look up at him and he has the cheesiest grin on his face. I try not to react too much, but inside I'm squealing at him finally asking.
"Really?" I say with sarcasm, looking around in mock desperation and he grins wider.
But when our eyes meet, I roll mine, a grin spreading over my face as he drags his chair over to my side of the desk, and plonks himself down on it with a contented sigh.
"So you're my partner?" I sit back in my chair and cross my arms, feigning disappointment despite my clear elation.
"'fraid so," he grins and knocks me with his elbow.
I laugh and smack him gently on the shoulder as I take Mrs Doctor's book out of my bag and write both of our names on it. He does the same to his book, and we both laugh as we start to talk at the same time.
He extends his hand chivalrously, letting me go first.
"So a theme?" He nods, clearly about to say the same thing.
I had several ideas - most of them board or tabletop game themes - and Archie quite liked them. We talk it over for about twenty minutes, before ending up shortlisting it to either Monopoly or a game of Solitaire. But when we start to lay out all the different squares in our books, it became apparent Solitaire would work better. Monopoly had too many cards, if you included chance and community chest cards, not to mention it would also be quite hard to make it all three-dimensional, or personal to us.
"We could use our different themes for the pictures on the cards? And then maybe just have like a kind of jazzy background or something?" I ask.
He starts roughly sketching out how the cards would be laid out in his book, so I lean over his shoulder to look, leaning slightly on his arm so I could see. He moves his arm so I can see and get a zing of electricity run through me when my fingers rest on the heel of his hand. He doesn't seem to notice.
"So we have the Ace piles here," he draws four squares with an arrow coming down from each, "and then we can have the piles at various stages?" I nod, and he continues. "Then we can have an arm or a hand over here somewhere, holding a couple of cards up or something?"
He looks up over his shoulder and we both pull back slightly as we realise how close our faces are.
He clears his throat as he scratches the back of his neck with his free arm so I move away from him.
"Yeah, sounds good to me. What would we put on them though?" I ask, moving further away to get my book. With my pencil, I draw a rough sketch as well and start a list of potential ideas for cards.
"That's where the theme comes in. Mrs Doctor said something personal to us, didn't she?"
I nod. "So family? Hobbies?" I suggest.
He nods, and writes them down in a column.
"Travelling? Cities of the world...?" He suggests, but I make a face. I hadn't been to many countries, so if they were personal to us then I'd be drawing Scotland mainly. He'd be drawing the Caribbean or South America, which were much more exciting.
He shrugs, "Films?" but then he shakes his head, so I cross that out immediately. There were far too many to choose from that we liked, so we'd never agree. Then again, films could work if we couldn't think of a good enough theme. I'm pretty sure Archie and I shared some of the same top ten films.
"Maybe we could just use one or two?" I suggest again, and he nods, changing his mind. I rub out the scribbled out word and rewrite it as a suggestion to use.
"Family and hobbies are a good idea I think," he says as I tap the words with my pencil. "So that can include... reading, for you," he gestures to the book he can see in my bag, "and football or art for me."
I nod, "Yeah and maybe we can add friends?" He agrees, smiling, so I write it down. "If we run out of cards we can always prioritise?"
"Okay cool, so that's the theme sorted, kind of. We can come up with lists separately and report back?" He grins and turns the page on his book. "What do you want to take?" He asks, lifting up his book to show me the rough sketch he'd drawn. He's tapping the four squares at the top, but I still didn't know what he's getting at.
"What do you mean?" I look harder at the page. I was starting to think he meant I draw his cards and he does mine, but that made no sense.
"The cards. Black or red? Or one of both?"
"Oh! Erm... One of both?" I ask with a shrug. It really didn't matter about that particular bit.
"Sure thing. So I'm spades and diamonds then, and then you can be clubs and hearts," he beams.
I nod and smile.
"Boom. Right, I think we have something then!" He holds up his hand for a high five so I hit it enthusiastically, both laughing.
***
I WAS SLIGHTLY WORRIED we would have too much to do, but then we started doing the maths. We made it so we each had ten cards to do, meaning we had to find eight mini subjects to fill each card.
Remaining in the seats next to each other, we start to scribble in our own notebooks what we wanted to draw, each trying to take a sneak peak at what the other was going to draw.
From what I could see, he has Millie at the top of his list, and his Mum. I saw Matt's name, and all his friends from football. I notice he has Art on there, as he'd said, with a few other suggestions as to what to draw. But I was disappointed that I didn't see me on there. When he moves his arm, I see travel, but I couldn't see what else he'd written. I couldn't see his dad on there, but he may have been on one that was currently covered by his arm. After seeing his scars, I had my suspicions about his dad. I think he's probably the one behind them. But instead of dwelling on that for now, knowing he'd tell me when he was ready, I turn my attention to my own themes.
My cards would include both my parents separately - I had the perfect picture in mind for my mum - Matt, my friends and others from work. Hobby-wise, cars would be on there, along with a few other favourite films. And then there were a couple of memories I wanted to try and draw down on some paper. Books will be a card on their own, with the main series I was reading, rather than all over them. I would probably try and draw Jamie and Claire along with a Scottish vista to show my true love for Outlander. I write that down pushing away the thought that Archie would laugh at me.
This project is worth 50% of our mark, and we both want to do well, so despite having fun today, we knew we had to be serious.
Although the deadline for partners is next week, we were three weeks behind everyone else who paired up earlier. I'm not worried though. Archie is definitely dedicated when it comes to Art. I hadn't been in his class for GCSE, so I never got to see much of his actual school work, but I had seen the drawings in his room, and they are awesome. It was up to me to keep up with how real and incredible Archie's drawings were, and then making sure mine were up to scratch.
The lesson we had this morning was a double period, so once we got drawing, we settle into quiet conversation like we always do. That's one of the things I find I love about Archie when he's just with me. He's quiet, but then when we want to talk, we can talk about anything and everything because we fully trust one another. So today, in the calm and relative quietness between us, I can see he's happy to just be here, concentrating on the drawing in front of him, and I don't mind it.
When the bell goes, he let's me know he's heading off to the loo, so he squeezes my shoulder comfortingly before he gets up. When he leaves the table, I notice his sketch pad is open. So when I see the door close, I put my pencil down quickly and take the opportunity to look at his sketches.
I smile when I flick back to the first page. He'd drawn so many different things. I don't know if he draws from memory or from pictures, but he had drawn the three horses in his neighbour's field, his parents, his sister, Dee, Matt... and even me. As I brush my fingers gently over the pages, some of them looked almost three-dimensional and were all incredibly detailed, down to the small freckle Millie has just underneath her lip. Some were from pictures I'd recognised from Facebook, but some were clearly drawn from study, namely those of his family.
The one of his mum was beautiful. I don't know where she was, but she had a relaxed smile on her face as she flicks through pages of a book. Her hair had fallen forward slightly, and she's concentrating on what she's doing, a small V forming on the top of her brow.
Millie he'd drawn in a more private moment, so I reckon she hadn't noticed he was drawing her. She was sitting in the window seat I recognised from their living room, backing onto the garden. She looked pensive as she glanced out into the distance. I couldn't see what she was looking at though. He'd started to fill in some of the detail, but I didn't have time to look properly because I see him come back in the door.
I turn the page back quickly to where he left it, turning it around, and I continue on with the picture I'd chosen of Mum.
As he sits, I see a Yorkie bar appear under my nose and I gasp with happiness, dropping my pencil on my book.
"Man! I needed this," I say, ripping open the packet and breaking off the first square. I offer him the next piece and he takes it, shoving it in with the two forks of kit-kit that were already in there, making me giggle. "Thank you!" I say with my mouth full.
He nods and I see his brow furrow as he looks at my sketch.
"Who are you drawing?" He asks, trying to look over my hand to see the drawing beneath it.
"Mum." I lift my hand and then show him the picture on my phone in comparison.
"It's really good," he smiles, turning it around quickly. It was literally only a brief sketch, only the outline, but he admires it all the same. "You must miss her sometimes," he says, tracing the lines of what will become her camera with his finger lightly, giving me a sad smile.
This was a subject we never really broach. It wasn't hard to talk about it, but it was always hard for me to think of Mum off somewhere else, missing out on so many memories.
She'd rung on our second day to ask how our first day was, but it's not quite the same when we get cut off about halfway through because she's called back to work. I hadn't spoken to her since that call, even though she promised, and that was about two and a half weeks ago.
"Yeah I do," I say. It's true, I do miss her, and I'm not ashamed to admit that.
I take the drawing back gently and continue to sketch the lines of her face more clearly.
"I just... I just wish she didn't have to travel so much. We all know it's what she loves doing," I sigh with a shrug. "But I just... I really miss her." I feel Archie's hand comfortingly take mine.
Mum was a born photographer. My parents both loved it, but Mum was amazing at it. It was how they met, in the photography society at university.
Mum's a foreign affairs photo journalist, which means she's away in a different country pretty much every week. Sometimes for weeks on end. She sends us postcards all the time, and calls us when she can, but we go weeks without hearing from her sometimes because she's somewhere too remote to get a phone signal.
The house was full of her photos. Photos of us - too many photos of us - with every single step of our childhood photographed. I used to find it embarrassing, but when each of my friends come round they're always commenting on how they wished they had pictures of them when they were babies. So I find it comforting that my parents have thought to save and display everything.
That was what I loved Mum for though. In the digital age we're in, to her there was still no better thing than a physical photograph. In our previous house she had a darkroom, and she always used to give us backstage demonstrations on her new photos and how she developed them from hand. Now she was travelling too much to have a permanent roost, we look at her newest photos on her website instead.
She was due back soon, after being away for over a fortnight. She left a message last weekend to say she'd be stopping by, so I was now counting down the days. I was at Charlotte's on Saturday, but Mum usually turns up for Sunday dinners, meaning we can catch up properly then. I wasn't sure how long she was staying for though, and seeing as she never stayed at the house, it's hard to catch up when we barely have any time.
However, as sad as it sounds, due to how busy some weeks have been, we mostly get relatively used to her not being around, because she barely ever is. Especially recently because she's been working in Africa and the Middle East. I just missed our conversations about nothing. I miss the laughter and the purposefully bad hair-dos, and I do genuinely miss the photography lessons with the ancient cameras we now keep in storage. I cherish every moment with Mum, because I never know when the next one will be.
"Where is she at the moment?" He asks, and I notice he's abandoned his drawing. He's now leaning on the table next to me, his hand cradling his head.
"Erm," I clear my throat, putting my pencil down as I look at the photo. "I think she's in Syria actually. She's been there for a fortnight, doing a piece for the BBC. Pretty cool," I grin. I was incredibly proud of what my mum did and what she'd achieved.
It was difficult for us a couple of years ago when my parents had decided to split. It became apparent to Dad that Mum seemed to love her job more than she loved being home with us, as she was spending so much time away. I'd even started to notice that what my parents used to love about one another, now drove them crazy. They still talk, for our sake I think, but it will never be the same again.
To be fair to Mum, when she came home she switched off from work completely. Although she's still taking pictures, you could see she was 100% with us, and it was always as if a new lease of life had been injected into the house when she was home. But apparently that wasn't enough for Dad.
The thing I remember most vividly about that day was all the shouting, and thinking that I just had to get out of there. I couldn't bear to look at either of them, as the whole situation had been unfair, and that day had been the first time I'd turned to Archie for comfort, rather than Charlotte.
"That is so cool. I wish I had the balls to go there," he shakes his head and turns back to his sketch.
"You've been to Egypt though right? Isn't that close?" He laughs and shakes his head, so I'm guessing it's not.
"About six-hundred miles away maybe? Wasn't a fun trip though."
"Oh, how come?" I ask curiously.
"They had a sandstorm while we were there. We were there for two weeks and we were only allowed outside for like maybe three days..."
I nudge his arm. "You could go back?"
He nods, his smile tight. "Maybe." He doesn't sound convinced though, so I turn the conversation around.
"Mum's been to loads of cool places. Our fridge is completely covered in postcards."
"I've noticed. And your fridge is huge! She must have been to like every country in the world?" He coughs and clears his throat. "When is she back?"
I look up and lean forward on my arms and poke him with my pencil.
"What's with all the questions today about Mum?"
He shrugs. "Matt doesn't talk about her much, so I just don't know that much about her I suppose."
"You've met her loads of times," I laugh.
"I know... but I never hung out with her as much as I do with your dad now... because she wasn't there much," he shrugs, but keeps looking at me to answer his original question.
"Back this weekend hopefully, on Sunday. And then she's back in England for like a month I think, so we'll be able to see her a bit more. She always stays with Gran." Dad allows her over but she never stays. Gran lives about an hour away, so we meet in the middle usually, but an hour is way better than three-thousand miles.
"Ah awesome!" He beams at me, looking from my eyes to my lips and back again, making my heart skip a beat. What is going on with him today?
"Yeah, I can re-introduce you," I giggle, shaking my head, very much aware my cheeks had gone scarlet.
I'm thankfully saved from any more questions by the bell. I only have History with him now, which is just before lunch, so it would allow me time to calm down. Although this has been really nice.
"What have you got next?" He asks, packing both our sketch pads and project books into his Art slot. We can come back and get them later because the Art room is hardly ever locked.
"Classics. You?"
"Cool. PE. It's a shame Brenning won't let us sit together in History."
I notice, same as earlier, that he winces. Even though he styles it out with a smile, it makes me think he hadn't meant to say that out loud either.
Personally I quite like that we can't because I know he'll sit next to me, and then I won't get any work done.
I shrug, "It is what it is."
"Suppose. Anyway, I'll see you later?" It's break time now, but he must have other plans, otherwise we would have walked back up to the common room together. I expect he has plans with Dee and I suddenly wish I hadn't thought about it.
Shaking my head, I walk as quickly as I can up to the common room, where Danny and Charlotte will be.
***
WHEN THE END OF the day comes around, I'm first to get down to the Tower to meet the others.
My head is swimming so much with classical house layouts, historical dates and English sonnets that I feel like my head is either going to fall off or violently explode. I hate A-Levels already, because everything seems to be one-thousand times harder.
I'm about to get my phone out to text the others that I'm here, when I notice something move in the corner of my eye. I look up and crane my head to try and see more clearly what it was.
Two people are cuddling - no, kissing - in the corner behind one of the parked cars sitting along the stretch of road leading to the Tower. I can't quite make out exactly who the people are, but I smile because it's cute. But then I recognise the taller male figure as Callum from the year above, one of Archie and Matt's team mates. And my mind starts boggling over who the girl could be.
"Boo!" I feel someone push me from behind and I squeal loudly, jumping slightly in the air as Matt gives me the fright of my life.
"Matt!" I hit him hard with my palm, making it sting from the impact, as he cackles in front of me.
"Sorry, that was too good to pass up," he chuckles, putting his hands up as I go to slap him again.
"I hate you," I say, crossing my arms after swatting him a second time.
"No you don't," he narrows his eyes at me and I can't help but smile.
I'm about to retort when I see the two people move out from behind the cars. The boy is definitely Callum, as he's headed our way, and I'm completely shocked when I see the girl heading the other way is Dee. Or at least it definitely looks like her.
Before my eyes can confirm it's her, she disappears quickly round the side of the school. I'm about to follow, but then I notice Archie walking up behind Matt with a tired-looking Millie in tow.
I recover and and smile at the two of them, hugging Millie as I hadn't seen her all day, and I'm relieved to see we all look as exhausted as each other. Tuesday is my only day without frees and I can definitely tell the difference.
"Right. Bus?" As much as I hated it, it was either the bus or walking, and I definitely wasn't walking today. My head feels like lead on my shoulders and I am beyond exhausted.
"Bus," they all say in unison, making us laugh.
"I can't wait until at least one of us drives," Archie says as he hikes up his bag. "Who's 17 first? Is it me?"
I nod. His birthday was in just over a fortnight and they usually throw a big to-do at Archie's house. We hadn't heard any plans as yet though, so maybe he was saving it for when he was eighteen and having a big blow-out bash.
"You guys are so lucky," Millie complains. "I have two more years, and by the time I learn, you guys will be gone," she pouts.
Archie snorts. "God, the thought of you behind the wheel would give anyone nightmares."
She swats him and he flinches, laughing. "Hey!"
"You think Millie would be scary?" I interject. "What about Matt?"
"Oi!" He says, although he backs my point up perfectly by walking straight into a lamppost because he's texting.
Archie bellows a laugh, we all do, as Matt rubs his nose, but then he suddenly stops.
"Oh jeez, is that the bus?"
"Crap!" We all say it in unison and start sprinting after it.