It’s like these caseworkers pull ideas
out of their arses
and all agree
it’ll do us the world of good.
This morning I’m sitting with the other girls
whinging about
how tough it
is to be female.
Dawn reminds us
how important school is –
‘And I don’t mean sitting in the inclusion unit,
girls!’
And now here we are,
up against the boys,
but on the other side of the pond from them,
faffing around with
rope and wood
and arguing about which one of us
has to sit on the stupid raft we’re building
once it’s in the water.
Fiona goes, ‘You ain’t getting me on the Titanic.’
Jade is like, ‘The raft’s tiny, you moron.’
Fiona goes, ‘Whatevs. I ain’t doing a DiCaprio, right.’
And Jade is like, ‘Well, I got my period, innit. I can’t go swimming.’
Dawn sighs. ‘The key is cooperation.’
Fiona rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah, right.’
Jade crosses her arms over her chest.
‘You know what, Dawn,
I reckon health and safety would
be all over this raft-building bullshit.’
‘I’ll do it,’ I say, just to shut them up.
From the other side of the pond
come hoots
and whistles.
‘He got soaked, man!’ Rick shouts.
One of the boys is in the water,
his head bobbing up and down
like a beach ball.
When he comes up he shakes his hair out
like a dog,
laughs
and splashes the other boys on the bank
as though it’s nothing at all
to have fallen into the pond.
‘Who’s that?’ I ask Dawn.
‘That’s Nicu,’ she says.
‘Good egg, that one.’