Do You Remember the First Time?

lady?’
    ‘I’m selling drugs behind the science block, destroying the fabric of society, failing to vote, expecting the world to owe me a living and sleeping with the PE teacher,’ I said grumpily. Justin kept sneaking peeks at me and brushing my hand, and I had no idea what to do about it.
    ‘You obviously love school,’ said Clelland.
    ‘Ever since they did away with corporal punishment it’s just not the same,’ I said.
    Clelland laughed down his nose at me and shook his head.
    Stanzi met me at the front gates. She had a gigantic hickey down one side of her neck.
    ‘Stanz,’ I said, ‘you look like a pram face.’
    ‘I don’t care,’ she said proudly. ‘I’ve never had one before.’
    ‘I don’t think you want to advertise every single stage of your secondary sexual development,’ I said. ‘Necessarily.’
    ‘Ooh, there’s Kendall,’ she said, waving furiously. OK. Maybe there were a few long roads of wisdom to womanhood she had to set foot on.
    Kendall beamed his head off when he saw her and came running over. Oh. Maybe not.
    They giggled and pawed each other quietly and I pretended not to care as we wandered towards English.
    ‘Miss Scurrison.’
    I looked up to see the teacher standing over me.
    ‘Hi,’ I said. ‘How are you?’
    The rest of the class laughed, thinking this was just cheek. I realised I was just trying to be normal. Teachers aren’t normal. I was aware that I kept making mistakes like this, like those aliens in science-fiction films who are trying to pass as humans but keep eating the cutlery. Last week I’d been caught listening to early choral music.
    ‘I’m fine, thank you, Miss Scurrison,’ said Miss Syzlack sarcastically. ‘I’m always fine on Monday mornings after I’ve spent the entire weekend marking.’
    I picked up the essay she’d put in front of me. An A! I’d never had a straight A in my life! I was a compulsive B student. This was great.
    ‘Thanks!’ I said.
    ‘Don’t mention it,’ said the teacher.
    ‘Swotto lesbo,’ said Fallon quietly from the back.
    I turned round as Miss Syzlack walked back to the front.
    ‘Are you starting?’
    She gazed at me for a minute.
    ‘No,’ she said sullenly, and went back to doodling on her folder.
    ‘Yes, Flora got the only A in the class,’ said Miss Syzlack.
    I couldn’t help it, I beamed with pride. They should do this at work. If you spend weeks on a report, with proper colour graphs and everything, you should get a big mark forit and everyone should be impressed, rather than leafing through them and throwing them in the bin immediately.
    ‘She’s the only person who didn’t clearly cut and paste the entire thing from the Internet. It’s about original thinking, guys.’
    A groan went up from the whole class – including me, when I realised how much time I’d wasted on the damn thing. But I didn’t care. I was still glowing. And all I had to do that afternoon was three hours of art, then five of us (including Ethan and Kendall) were off for Coke floats and a lengthy party post-mortem. Hurrah! I’d forgotten that these could take weeks and would involve much embroidery. I was really going to drop Fallon in it this time.
    I escaped at lunchtime. I’d forgotten in all the excitement that I’d arranged to meet Tashy. I was becoming an expert at slipping out of the school gates, but really, sneakily, I’d kind of wanted to catch up on all the gossip, and spread some.
    I ferociously wolfed down a cheese toastie and a chocolate milkshake – I was so hungry, all the time – while Tashy looked on miserably sitting in the small condensation-filled atmosphere of the little caff.
    ‘Do you remember when I used to be the jolly one and you used to be the worrier?’ she said.
    I pulled myself back from my obsessive thoughts about having snogged a seventeen-year-old.
    ‘I am worried!’ I said quickly. ‘I have twelve days before I meet up with myself again and evaporate. Or maybe myother self will adopt me. Can I have another toastie? Have I told you about my A?’
    Tashy looked away and let out a big sigh.
    ‘Can we talk about this, or are you just going to stuff your face and act like you have no responsibilities in the world?’
    ‘OK, Tash,’ I said. ‘Don’t marry him. Please. Don’t. You’ll meet someone else; of course you will.’
    ‘It’s not that,’ she said.
    ‘People call off weddings all the time. After a few years it becomes an amusing story.’
    ‘It’s not