‘As you know, the student newspaper,The Common Room, is starting up again this year—’
‘Miss, I can do the announcement,’ says Tori, her hand flying up.
‘Okay, Tori,’ says Ms Harkness. She’s the teacher sponsor of the newspaper.
‘So we’re looking for contributors,’ says Tori, animatedly. ‘I am the editor. I want this to be the best year ever ofThe Common Room, so please email us any ideas, articles, pitches you have. I’m so excited to read them. Also if you don’t have any ideas but want to write or put it down on your UCAS form, I have a tonne of ideas.’ She gestures at her ringbinder.
‘Thanks, Tori,’ says Ms Harkness. ‘But I hope everyone who submits does have original ideas. Journalism is a great way toexpress yourself and your point of view, not just write about what is going on in the world. Feel free to speak to me if you have any questions.’
As we pack up, Ms Harkness calls me over.
‘How was your summer, Selena?’ she says warmly.
‘Good thanks, Miss,’ I say.
‘I wanted to talk to you about your university application. You’re thinking about applying for English, right?’
‘Yeah, Miss, I think so. I just don’t know what course. Or where . . .’
‘You know the deadline is in January? And you should apply earlier if possible.’
‘I know, Miss.’
She squints at me. ‘Is there something else going on?’
Yes!I want to say.I am deeply afraid of the future and losing my friends and family, and completing my UCAS form cements the deal. I don’t particularly want to leave home because my mum has a chronic condition and I want to be there for her. Selecting a course is a huge commitment to the future that I’m not ready to make, and I don’t know where to start!
But I don’t say any of this. Instead I say, ‘No.’
‘You can talk to me if you want,’ she says, and she looks like she means it.
And instead of denying any more, I say, ‘I’ll think about it, thanks.’
Selena Says: Ringbinders belong in a museum. Get in the 21st century and put everything on the Cloud. There’s no need to carry a kilo of paper around any more. Think about the trees!
Nine
It’s gorgeous, it’s light
It’s a stolen kiss at midnight
It’s breathtaking, it’s gentle
It’s the belief so hard it’s metal
What is this? Oh . . . it’s love
‘It’s Love’ fromThe In-Between
I’m staring out of my bedroom window, thinking about what Ms Harkness said earlier today. My desk overlooks the garden. Mum put it there because it has the best lighting for when I study, but it also provides plenty of distractions.
Our garden is narrow but long, and there’s an oak tree at the end. The main distraction is that I can see into next door’s garden, which means I spend a lot of time people-watching. On one side is an older couple, whose children have moved out. If I have the window open in the summer I can sometimes hear Mrs Chang gossiping on the phone about her daughter, her daughter’s friends and any celebrity online. On the other side, it’s the Pointers. Or rather, itwasthe Pointers.
The thought makes my heart ache a bit. I look at their garden, or rather the side of it I can see. There’s a fresh lawn, a pond and—
Ty takingphotosof the pond?
Not even with his phone. He has one of those big fancy cameras. One that actual photographers use. He’s lunging onto the floor, squatting down and peering through the lens. I’m not sure what he’s looking at. There’s not been any fish in that pond since the Pointers got a new cat and it killed all their expensive carp. But the way the sun comes from our side of the garden gives his garden an amazing golden-hour look at this time of day.
