Niamh's pov
It was another day at school, and we were in another boring assembly, all we wanted to know was where this years trip was.
"Before I dismiss you for the weekend, a few announcements. On Monday morning, several of our Year 13s will face their GCSE maths resit." Sister Michael goes on.
Shite I forgot about that
"Let me see, what else? This year's destination for the Euro Trotters trip will be, dramatic pause. Did you actually want me to do the dramatic pause?"
Come on to fuck
"Paris, it's going to be Paris. If you need any further information, there is a stall in the foyer. Sadly, I am unable to come on this one as I despise the French." Sister concludes.
I walked with James at the back of our group as we walked towards the stall for Paris. Erin was talking to this bitch Charlene Kasvanasgh, I don't like Charlene, neither does Michelle, she's just so stuck up, not as stuck up as Jenny but nearly. I could see that James was staring at her, so I "accidentally" dropped my bag on his toe.
"Ouch Niamh!"
"Sorry James." I mumbled.
"It's alright." He said, putting his arm around my shoulders.
Keep calm
"Where do we sign? Hold on! Stall the fucking ball! £375 quid? Are you for real?" Michelle shouts.
"What?! £375 each? Isn't there some sort of group discount?" Erin asked.
"It is a bit steep, Jenny." Claire pipes in.
"Just dip into your trust fund. I do it all the time." Jenny tells us.
"Our what?" I say.
"It's like an account your parents set up for you to help pay for things like university, your first car, educational trips!" Jenny smiles.
"I didn't know about this. Did you know about this? Clare asked us.
"No, did I fuck!" Michelle shouts.
"Trust funds, you say. Interesting." Erin smirks.
Turns out neither Erin, Orla or myself have a trust fund, and we were trying to sort out the order for the chippy.
"OK, that is one portion of redfish, one portion of whitefish, two bags of chips." Gerry listed off.
"No, no, no! Two bags won't be enough." Grandpa Joe complained
"Two is plenty, Joe." Gerry insists.
"Four! Four should cover it."
"And I want 12 chicken nuggets, a small battered hot dog, plenty of onions, plenty of." Orla listed her order.
"What do you want Niamh love" Aunt Sarah asked me.
"just chips and mushy peas" I reply.
The room went silent.
"Are you feeling alright Niamh." Mary asked on her way to the first aid kit.
"I've a headache but I'm fine, just not hungry." I say.
"Awk Niamh."
"Right we better get a move on, at that chippy, well, it's every man for himself on a Friday night." Aunt Mary says.
Then Gerry and Grandpa Joe argued about how many bags of chips we should get, and how he needed chicken in his chicken burger, then we were blessed with a phone call from uncle Colm. Turns out two gunmen forced their way into his house and tied him up by his shoe laces, then stole his van. Apparently he was coming to dinner, how fun.
"Seven bags of chips, 12 chicken nuggets, one small battered hot dog, one plain chicken burger, mushy peas.."
"Give me that!"
"Thank you, Fionnula." I shouted.
Then Clare comes and join us.
"All right? Any joy with the trust fund?" Erin asked.
"No, according to my mam, we're actually quite poor." Clare responds.
"Aye. I think we might be as well." I say.
"Well, Jenny Joyce was talking through her fat hole about this trust fund thing." Michelle walks in.
"What's yours?" Fionnula yells.
"Don't rush me, Fionnula."
Jesus Michelle you're brave tonight
"Where the fuck are we going to get the money for Paris now?" I ask.
"We could sell our organs." Orla says.
Well aye if it comes to it.
"We could, We could sell our organs. Or, and forgive me if this is a bit left-field, but could we not, you know, get jobs?" Clare asked.
"There are no jobs in Derry. That's all you ever hear anybody say." Michelle said.
"So what are these?" Clare asked.
"I never really looked at this before." Erin said.
"Aye me either" I say.
"I just assumed they were all dead cat posters." Michelle said.
"Missing cat posters." Clare corrected.
"If you're an optimist." I mumble.
"Oi! I'll not ask you again!" Fionnula yells.
"A large cowboy, Fionnula, And don't be shy with the salt, now."
"What about the wee limey?"
aye I forgot James was here
"Well, dicko?" Michelle nudges.
"I'm okay, thanks." James replies.
"What?"
"I don't really want anything." He says.
"You don't want anything?" Erin asked.
"How could you not want anything?" Michelle asked.
"It's lovely."
"I just don't really fancy it, that's all." He said.
"I don't understand." Orla says.
"Are you not feeling well, James?" Clare asked.
"I don't like it! Okay! It's too greasy, it's much, much too greasy! Even the smell of it makes me feel physically sick!" James lashed out at us, and attracted a lot of unwanted attention.
well, I can actually half agree with you on that one James.
"I'm sorry you had to hear that, Fionnula. You are a fucking embarrassment." Michelle said.
"Get him out of here!"
aw holy fuck where don't we get kicked out of.
I then had to sit through uncle Colm talk about his life for about an hour too long. Which was not fun I'll tell you that for free. Then the doorbell rung and Erin was straight to it. I heard Clare so I went to the door too.
"You will NEVER guess what she's done this time!" Clare yelled.
"Did she nick the notice board from the chip shop, Clare?" I asked.
"Fionnula was out the back cashing up.
I sneaked in, yanked it off the wall and away I went. I was like a thief in the night." Michelle beamed.
"You were "like" a thief in the night?! You actually were a thief in the night, and you stole from Fionnula, of all people. I once saw her punch a Rottweiler, Michelle. If she finds out about this, she will kill you." Clare was raging.
"God! Can I ask why you stole the notice board?" Erin asked.
"So we get first dibs on all the jobs." Michelle replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Wouldn't it have been easier to just remove the notices, they're only Blu Tacked on." James said.
"Fuck off, Dickweed!"
awk Michelle be nicer to your cousin. Even if he is English.
"Christ, what possessed you, Michelle?" Clare asked.
"Yeah. The more I talk about it and the more I sober up, the less sure I am, really."
"You were drunk."
not really a surprise there
"Holy Fuck, we are not like Jenny Joyce. Nobody is just going to hand us things. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't have things. Come on, Clare. I know how much you have dreamed of seeing the art Whatever the fuck it's called. James, I know how much you want to practise the shit out of the past participle. Orla, you really really buzz off those Renault Clio ads. Niamh, I know how much you want to see that big tower, and you, Erin, well, you are just riding Charlene Kasvanasgh." Michelle was giving her best speech yet.
"I'm not riding her. I just think it might be time I moved on friendship wise." Erin said.
"You are aware you are talking to your current friends Erin?" I ask
"We can't give up on Paris. Let's do this, girls. Let's make it happen." Michelle yells.
"I have never seen you so fired up." Erin said.
"I will book a French lad, so help me God!"
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( 1296 words )