Salt on an old wound
Saline stinging harder
It tears me apart
To be without you
‘Salt On A Wound’ fromDreamers
Today’s Take:Stop throwing salt on old wounds
You know what I hate? People rubbing it in. I get it, your house is nicer. I get it, you got perfect marks in the test. I get it, you’ve got Rose Conrad tickets.
You know what? Nobody cares. Nobody wants to hear about your victories at their expense. I certainly don’t. So keep your smug stories to yourself.
Are you really the Secret Sender?’ asks Farah to Tori. I’m walking behind them on the way to English. Close enough to eavesdrop, of course.
Tori splutters, but nothing she says is really coherent. ‘Yes . . . but no . . . sometimes . . . ’
‘It doesn’t sound like you,’ says Farah. ‘When it came into the main inbox, I was surprised.’
It’s true. Why would Tori, queen of smug stories, write about being smug?
‘Well, if you must know, it’s not me,’ says Tori.
‘What?’ says Farah. ‘Why did you say it was?’
Tori shrugs. ‘Because I thought it was cool. And at the time, it was. But now . . . she’s just getting mean, right?’
I snort, and then pretend to be sneezing. But I know the only reason Tori thinks my latest piece is mean is because it’s directed at her. Also, it’s not reallythatmean.
‘Are you talking about the Secret Sender’s latest article?’ says Paula Thomas, passing by. She’s in our English class. I rarely speak to her, but she’s pretty nice.
‘Yeah, what do you think?’ says Tori.
‘It feels harsh,’ says Paula. ‘Don’t you think she’s getting harsher? Wanting to celebrate yourself isn’t the same as rubbing salt into other people’s wounds. You should feel able to be happy about your life, to celebrate it.’
What? Paula thinks it’s too much?
‘Yeah, I agree,’ says Tori. ‘If she keeps being like this, we’ll pull her from the newspaper.’
‘Don’t you thinkthat’san overreaction? She posted an opinion,’ I say, before I can help myself. ‘Thought you were pro freedom of press, Tori.’
‘Well, I am,’ she splutters.
‘And Secret Sender is the main reason people are readingThe Common Room,’ says Mia.
‘They are reading it for quality investigative journalism too,’ says Tori. ‘Last week I did an exposé on the sausages in the cafeteria only containing fifty per cent meat.’
‘I think most sausages contain fifty per cent meat,’ I say, swinging my bag onto my desk as we get into class.
‘Either way, it’s an exposé,’ says Tori, her mouth curling. ‘What would you know about journalism anyway?’
More than you, I think.I’m your most-read feature by far. And my articles are only five lines long, not five pages.
And I know it’s true. All around me, people are talking about my recent take.
I feel a familiar buzz again, the one I get whenever I realise people are reading what I’ve written, that they care about my words.
