Space Invaders

Sarah Macfarlane

Monday. 8.43am.

Our corner of the common room is Doc Martens, eyeliner and peroxide-blonde hair. And atmosphere. Yes, theres definitely atmosphere. I try not to angst but it seems it all intensifies when I sit down.

H concentrates on shuffling a pack of cards, A pulls at the edge of her too-short skirt, G pretends shes reading the dog-eared pages of her English homework, and L eats Space Invaders.

I sit it out.

I cant remember what I normally do to fill this time. Its not homework: I do that at home. Its not eating crisps: Ive had muesli for breakfast. No, normally I talk to my friends about well, stuff. Music, singers in bands, the weekend and the gig and how crap was the line-up and how much did we drink and who pulled who.

We will not be talking about that this morning.

17 minutes tick by and I think about what Ive done. Here it is:

On Friday night, watching a crappy local band, I kissed D. The same D who dumped L the week before. After a lengthy relationship of thirteen days. Ive had plenty of time to think about my indiscretion, to be honest. All weekend. Reliving it is delicious.

Period 1.

Its a relief to go to double maths with other kids who have muesli for breakfast and hand their homework in on time. Im a straight-grades pupil so I spend a lot of time with kids like this. Kids who, listen to bands like Texas, and shop in Next, and want to be doctors when they grow up. Today I dont mind, and Im glad its maths. I can arrange numbers without too much effort and switch to the part of my brain thats thinking of D. Its hard to be remorseful.

Interval. Common room.

Ls alone so I take the opportunity.

Sorry about Friday. With D and everything. I fix on my most sorrowful expression and dont say what Im thinking, which is, get over him already, and, I would so do it again.

Im a total cow, I add.

She smiles, all watery, and gives me a hug. Were friends again.

H arrives and deals me cards.

L munches on Space Invaders.

G bitches about Mrs T, English Teacher from Hell.

And I swear, As skirt has got two inches shorter since this morning.

Lunchtime. I go home.

I watch TV, eat a balanced lunch, including fruit, and think about D.

He really is a good kisser.

Im not a ****, I dont think, because I didnt go on Friday with the intention of pulling him. I didnt go with the intention of pulling anyone.

Well, not anyone in particular.

Think about it. I eat muesli but wear DMs. I listen to Smashing Pumpkins but still get straight grades. I cant afford to be fussy when it comes to boys.

I detour past Smokers Corner where G and A have their token daily cigarette. And D too. Im not going to lie. I want to see him.

Theres no-one there. Only fifth year boys, hoping they look like Kurt Cobain when really they should invest in some Clearasil.

I dont think Im needy, but if someone would just walk into the common room, sit down next to me and like me for me, even though Im too clever and too healthy and much too rock If someone did that well, then Id know, its ok to be me.

Common room.

Space invaders, 'On the Road', a random pair of DMs.

H is alone. Theres been a crisis. I roll my eyes. Its like were living out Reality Bites, and its not as thrilling as I would have expected. She deals me cards and we play. Shes vicious and everyone returns as I concede a loss.

Ls been crying.

A is super-solemn-faced.

G looks bored.

I dont say anything. Im not convinced this newest catastrophe isnt about me so I wait till L and A go to geography. I have a free period.

G sits beside H and bursts open a packet of Space Invaders. They have maths but they wont go.

What a drama.

I try to read Gs expression. She doesnt look like she hates me so I risk it, What happened? Friday night, after you left, D got together with E. Her parents were away, and he went back to hers. G shrugs. We all know what happens next.

I feel bad. Like, pain through my heart. Obviously D would pick E over me. She gets average grades, shops in Next, likes Texas, is overweight, bad hair, no sense of humour.

Good choice, huh?

I cant be upset about this.

Suddenly, H grins. For real? Has anyone seen D today? E didnt crush him to death? I nearly giggle.

G chokes on Space Invaders.

What is it with the overweight trendies? They get all the best guys. We need to start eating more pies. Expand our waistlines. E is easy, is all. Who hasnt she been with? Still a waste, I venture, then wait, see if I get more grief.

G smirks and I remember, she pulled D way back in December.

God. Hes such a he-****.

Like J?

Totally. But not as cute.

You would know, I state.

G looks smug.

H blushes.

I feel better.

We spend the afternoon pulling boys apart. Its all kind of satisfying, and I love these girls. Seriously. Because it doesnt matter that Im good at maths and dont eat Space Invaders and think all Next franchises should be razed to the ground. It doesnt even matter that I kissed the wrong boy. These girls like me for me: Pearl-Jam-listening, straight-grades-achieving, misfit me.

And D. Seriously. To think I would have given this up for him.

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