CHAPTER1
The phone wasstillbeeping and I wasstillignoring it.
It had first beeped at seven thirty as I’d eaten my breakfast, it had continued to beep as I’d brushed my teeth, and still, the beeping persisted as I drove to work. It was at this stage that I thought of muting the incessant noise, but as a law-abiding citizen and someone only too aware of the dangers of using a phone while driving, I did not. Instead, I tossed it to the back seat in an attempt to move the noise as far away from my ears as possible. The beeping was even more irritating from there. It was only when I’d gotten to work that finally I acknowledged I could no longer ignore it.
10-Year School Reunion WhatsApp Group
I moaned. You know when they assign a name to the chat it’s going to be a very, very lengthy one.
Hannah (admin):Omg, I cannot believe it’s been ten years, girls! I can’t wait to see you all.
I moaned once more. I’d known it was coming. One didn’t need to be a mathematician to calculate that we’d been out of school for precisely ten years. But now that it seemed to have actually materialized, I didn’t know how to feel about it. But as I read on, my feelings became quite clear.
Emily:Ten years . . . and it’s starting to show in the mirror
Bianca:A whole decade! It’s insane. And as you can see by this pic, I’ll be coming to the reunion with a baby on board
Lilly:Congrats!
Sarah:How exciting. I have two. Ben is 2 and Angie is only 4 months, so I won’t be looking my best, girls . . .
Yanilla:Omg, me neither. My little one is only six weeks. I have permanent black rings under my eyes.
Lira:Concealer is a new mama’s best friend.
Tracy:Omg, I’m also baby-on-board! When is your due date?
Emily:Concealer is also a bride-to-be’s best friend. No one told me how stressful planning a wedding is!
Sarah:Congrats! When is the wedding?
Emily:In two weeks. I’m freaking oooooooout!
Lulu:You’re kidding – my wedding is in three weeks!
Rachel:That’s soooo cool. I love a spring wedding.
Hannah:This is so much fun! I literally cannot wait to see you guys. I just got married, so I’ll be bringing hubby. Remember, partners are very welcome. The more the merrier. Champagne, girls!!! Yaaaaaaaaay!
I tossed my phone onto my desk as if it had electrocuted the palm of my hand. It continued to buzz and shake as if possessed by these bite-sized bits of communication. Winky face emojis and words with way too many vowel sounds. I wiped my hand on my pants; it was wet and sticky.
Just reading that string of upbeat messages was bringing back less than pleasant high-school flashes. It wasn’t that I hated high school or the people in it per se, it was just that I hadn’t fitted in there with them. I hadn’t triednotto fit in though; in fact, quite the opposite. When I’d first gotten there I’d done everything possible to successfully integrate. I’d attempted to be exactly like them, observing their behaviours and imitating them. But the more I did that, the less I seemed to fit in. So after those unsuccessful attempts at social assimilation, I embraced my obvious differences and stopped trying to be someone I would never be.
After that, I willingly lurked on the edges of their effervescent social groups, choosing to sit in the library at break reading a book rather than sit in the quad talking with them about what dress they were going to wear to the dance, who was dating who, who liked who and whether it was okay to let him finger you after a few weeks of dating. At an all-girls boarding school there were three main things that occupied all conversations:
1. The opposite sex
2. Having sex
3. Having sex with the opposite sex
Nothing else seemed relevant. The Global North could be sending missiles off into the sky to entirely obliterate the Global South and they would probably still be talking about whether it was okay that Jessica was going out with Edward now, because she used to go out with Mike, Edward’s best friend, and was that breaking the ‘bro code’.
I’ve never really got it, this obsession with men. Don’t get me wrong, I like men, although I have very specific criteria when it comes to engaging with them. But for the most part, I’m not averse to the idea of them at all. Not only were men absolutely necessary for the evolution of the human species, but they’re also good for other things, apart from their ability to aid in the procreation process.
For example, I like to look at men. Not all men, obviously. But some men are so easy on the eye that one just can’t help but look at them. Like that man on the giant highway billboard in that jeans commercial. There’ve been several occasions when I’ve found myself looking at him so intently, sweeping my eyes over that perfect symmetrical V-shape that runs across his abdomen and disappears into his jeans, that I’ve almost missed the off ramp. I emailed the Advertising Complaints Commission about this, suggesting that perhaps they find a more suitable, less distracting place for the billboard. They never got back to me, which I thought was terribly unprofessional.
I also like the way men feel. I like the way their skin is different to ours. I like the way that running your hands over a man’s skin is almost like running your hands over a foreign creature. Did you know, a man’s skin is twenty-five per cent thicker than a woman’s because of the increased testosterone, and that’s why it feels so unlike ours.
