The Fragile Ordinary(90)

We all found a rhythm together, us and the rugby boys eating lunch together every day; sometimes we’d welcome other classmates, sometimes it was just a few of us. Tobias and I even went out on a double date with Vicki and Luke.

Steph did not feel left out, because Steph was enjoying basking in the attention of all boys. Andy, thankfully, seemed to realize quite quickly that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Steph and he turned his attention to a girl on the Portobello girls’ junior rugby team. She was taller than him. And possibly stronger. But the boy was smitten.

As for me I hadn’t escaped my friends’ curiosity over the look Tobias and I had shared in the cafeteria that day. They’d asked me outright if Tobias and I had had sex and I admitted we had. Vicki was full of curious questions while Steph seemed happy, but as always there was an undercurrent of competition there. It wouldn’t surprise me if my friend decided not to remain a virgin for very long. She hated to be left behind. Vicki on the other hand could not be moved to do something she wasn’t ready for. Like me she’d wait until it felt right.

Tobias and I...well we were better than great. Closer than ever and yet both excelling separately. His improvement on the rugby team really impressed his coach. To the disgruntlement of the current fly-half player, Tobias was to play the position in the next game, and if he did well he could become the team’s permanent fly-half. Although Tobias had attempted to explain the game to me, I still wasn’t clear what all the positions meant. I did know that the fly-half was similar to a quarterback in football, so it made sense that Tobias would be good in that position. Thankfully, he wasn’t displacing any of his friends at school but someone from the private boys’ school just outside Porty, so he could avoid any awkward tension it might cause.

Our friends already had their set positions on the team. David, being the tallest and broadest of all the boys, was strong so he was the team’s prop. I think he basically did what the title said—he propped up his team players in the scrum. I think.

Luke was the hooker, and as funny as the title was, I gathered from how the other guys were with him that he was a pretty important player. Both Michael and Mike were wingers. Don’t ask. I couldn’t tell you.

And Andy was a scrum-half.

Again, who knows?

I was hoping the more games I went to the more I’d understand what was going on and what all the rugby jargon meant.

The point was that Tobias was doing well. Every day he seemed to shed a little of his grief and anger. Of course, I knew he’d never get over what had happened to his dad and the circumstances surrounding his death, but I felt like he was finally moving on.

As for me, Mr. Stone was ecstatic Dad had agreed to join the lit mag, and my English teacher and I had moved full-speed ahead with the magazine. He advertised it in class and we’d set up an email address for people to submit their poetry, short stories and essays. We’d put together a small team that included ourselves, Pamela Perry and the two fourth years Mr. Stone mentioned whom I’d never met before—two girls, Amy and Lucy. Moreover, I’d gathered the courage to ask the boys if they’d be interested in the lit mag, and Andy’d said he wanted to join us. He also brought along a boy called Thomas whom Andy knew from the football team. It was an eclectic mix of people with differing opinions. Sometimes they were frustrating and sometimes they were fun. What was really fun, however, was the fact that we got submissions from students. Actual submissions. Andy took leadership over the layout of the website and magazine, and we worked with him on the look and feel of it, while we worked out which pieces to publish first.

Some had sent in their work anonymously through private email addresses, while others were brave enough to own it, sending it from their school email account. And every time I read a piece of work that had been written by someone who wasn’t afraid to admit it was their work, I felt a surge of something inside of me.

Whatever the feeling was, it was pushing me to be brave, too.

*

With life at school incredibly busy, it was the end of January before I knew it and the morning of my seventeenth birthday. For the first time I was truly excited for it, because I had people who cared about me and wanted to share it with me.

Tobias and Vicki had already blown my phone up with happy birthday texts and gifs.

I wasn’t expecting much from my parents, who had continued to avoid each other by burying themselves in work. Every birthday was the same as Christmas. I got vouchers for the bookstore.

Lucky me, my birthday fell on a Saturday this year and I was meeting my friends for a celebratory breakfast at the Espy. Dressed in a blue velvet dress with buttons up the front, a white Peter Pan collar and puff-sleeves, I felt girly and happy. I loved velvet. The skirt hit me just above the knee, so I’d paired the dress with thick dark pink tights. It was still too cold and wet for flats, so I was wearing black wedge boots that were mostly made up of a large fur collar. Over the dress, I wore my blue winter coat and dark pink scarf, bobble hat and gloves.

Stopping in at the kitchen for a quick glass of water, I was startled by the sound of Dad’s voice behind me.

“Happy birthday, Comet.”

I spun around to find him standing in the doorway, wearing an expression I didn’t quite understand. “Thanks.”

“Seventeen.” He pushed off the doorway, and my gaze snagged on the wrapped gift in his hands. Surprise held me immobile. “I can’t believe it. You’ll be eighteen before we know it.” Words unsaid hung heavily in the air: and then you’ll be gone.