Autumn had barely put in an appearance before winter arrived, basically overnight. It swept through our town like a late party guest, one who overcompensates for their bad timekeeping by drinking too much too quickly and making an embarrassment of themselves. One day it was all warm and golden, the next all bitter and grey. Within days dresses were pushed to the back of wardrobes, put into hibernation until April. Girls trawled online shopping sites for the perfect pair of ankle boots that didn’t exist. We pulled out our long-forgotten winter coats and found last year’s receipts and used tissues still snug in the pockets.
I didn’t have any old used tissues in my winter coat. I would never be that disgusting.
Oli still hadn’t come back to college. I worried about him. I worried about him but I still didn’t message him.
As abruptly as the change in season, they’d lowered my medication again. To almost nothing.
“Now, if you start suddenly feeling really low and potentially suicidal, you are to ring me immediately,” Sarah said, as she chatted through the new recovery plan. “It’s a really rare side effect of withdrawal, but it can happen.”
“Thanks,” I said, dryly. “Give the anxious girl coming off her medication something more to worry about, why don’t ya?”
“I’m proud of you,” she said. And the way her face looked made me think she really meant it. “Now, I’m going on holiday for a week, so we’ll miss a session. I know this isn’t great timing, but you’ve got the emergency contact number, haven’t you? And you can always go to your GP.”
I felt my tummy sink… I hated it when Sarah went away. It was weird to think of her having a different life, a normal one, with holidays, and people she could talk to without using medical training.
“I’ll be grand,” I said, smiling. Thinking, I don’t know if I will, but I like how proud you look right now.
Mornings took longer, as I had to carefully pour out a liquid form of my medication onto a spoon. Very soon, I would stop completely.
Rose told Mum about my cleaning box and it was removed from under my bed. I didn’t talk to Rose for two days and spent all my spare time with the girls instead. Amber was enough to bring anyone out of a bad mood.
“Guys,” she announced, on a windy Wednesday, smashing her bag on the table. We’d relocated to a cosy corner of the cafeteria. “Guess what? I’ve made an agenda for today’s Spinster meeting.”
Lottie and I looked up from our game of noughts and crosses.
“An agenda?” Lottie asked.
Amber nodded, her face as red as her hair. “To give us focus. You two spent most of the last meeting whinging about boys. That is all fair and well, but I think we need an agenda too.”
I poked my tongue into the side of my mouth in amusement.
“Item one: History of the Suffragettes – discussion topic: Were they terrorists or heroes?” I said, in a BBC news presenter voice. “Item two: Why won’t Guy reply to my messages?”
Lottie rolled her eyes. “Has he done it again? Messaged you then not replied to your reply?”
I nodded. “Yep. He messaged the other night, asking me about the new Wes Anderson film. I know, right? Guy? Wes Anderson? Anyway, I thought he might ask me to go see it. But when I replied – after a good half-hour of waiting time I may add – saying it had good reviews, nothing. Nada. Not a sausage.”
“You need to stop replying.”
“I know.”
“So why do you keep replying?”
I put my head down on the table. “I don’t know.”
Amber bashed her bag on the table again, like a judge with a gavel.
“You see!” she said, her face even redder if possible. “This is why we need an agenda!”
I looked up and smiled at her. “I couldn’t agree more.”
As if he knew I’d just made a conscious effort to stop talking about him, Guy barrelled through the double doors of the cafeteria. Why do guys like Guy look so good in duffel coats? It really is terribly unfair. He had Joel and Jane with him – their hands in each other’s coat pockets – just like the saying. They spotted us and headed over.
Guy sat next to me and I felt outside’s cold air coming off him. He stank of smoke.
“Smoking in winter is such a mission,” he announced, without even saying hi. “It’s so effing cold outside.”
I sat up straighter in my seat, realized I should look casual, and slouched again. “So why smoke?” I asked.
He looked right at me. “Because it’s cool.”
“I don’t know if lung cancer would agree with you on that one.”
He shrugged. “I’ll quit before I’m twenty-five.”
“Being cool?”
I watched him struggle not to smile. “No,” he said. “I’ll be cool for ever.”
Joel and Jane went up to buy some chips to share while Amber handed Lottie and me some paper. “Here’s my agenda.”
“Jeez,” I said, scanning it. “You’ve actually made an actual agenda.”
Guy gave her a look. “Is this for your lezzer club again?”
Amber’s prickles went up. “It’s for the Spinster Club, yes! And that’s a totally offensive word anyway, dickwad. We’re meeting at my house after school.” She gave me a what-the-hell-do-you-see-in-him? look over the top of his head. It involved lots of pointed glaring.
I scanned the page and it made me love her more. She’d even scheduled in a fifteen-minute break for “cheesy snacks”.
The topic for tonight’s meeting, I wasn’t expecting though. “We’re going to discuss periods?” I asked.
Guy almost choked on his Diet Coke.
Amber nodded while Guy looked at us in horror. “You girls are dedicating an evening to talking about being on the blob?”
Amber gave him a pointed glare while I went as red as a…well, a period I guess.
“It’s not our fault we bleed.”
We all grimaced. “Unnecessary usage of the word ‘bleed’,” Lottie whispered and we both burst out laughing.
“That is disgusting,” Guy said.
“You’re disgusting.”
“I’m not the freak who can bleed for three days without dying.”
Amber gave him another glare. “I’m not going to continue this with HIM here.”
Guy looked all faux innocent. “Who me?”
“Yes you.”
“Well, quite frankly, Amber, I’m gutted. I really felt like openly discussing menstruation while I ate lunch.” He pulled out an unhealthy looking white bread sandwich and took a satisfied bite.
Amber waited until he was chewing. “Your mum menstruates you know.”
Guy almost choked on his mouthful.
“She might be bleeding right this moment,” Amber added and looked on contentedly as he disintegrated into a proper coughing fit.
Worried, I thumped him on the back until he stopped. Every time I touched him it sent little fireflies buzzing up my arm. Jane and Joel returned with their chips and surveyed the hubbub.
“What’s going on?” Jane asked, looking at Guy’s bulging eyes and Amber’s smug grin.
Lottie answered, not looking up from her agenda where she’d been colouring all the “o”s in with pencil. “Amber here has just been reminding Guy that his mother has periods.”
“Gross,” Joel said, at the exact same time Jane said, “Eww.”
Amber grabbed back her agendas, making Lottie accidentally scribble on hers as it was torn from her grasp, and stood to leave.
“Your mums have periods too. All of ours do. One of the things we’re discussing tonight is society’s immature attitudes towards menstruation. Girls, I’ll see you at mine after school.”
She walked off, leaving us stunned.
Guy readjusted his chair so his leg touched my leg.
Even through my jeans it felt damn good.