Classmates jump to conclusions yet again,this time about Tasha.
" You look dead." he said, gently poking my arm, " No sleep?"
I looked up from my uncomfortable arm-pillow, "Nope. Today is going to be hell." I kicked my schoolbag and sat up. " I feel as if I've died and not realized it yet."
Gerard laughed, " come on Tash, you have to stay alive until break, or else I'll have no one to talk to " well, that perked me up, but sadly not enough to give me the motivation to discuss the latest Justin Beiber song at length in the P.E changing rooms. The sheer volume of their excited squeals was doing nothing for my headache. I tugged the ugly white polo shirt on over my long-sleeved thermal, (not that these two layers would protect me from the freezing November weather. The PE teachers were sadists, honestly.) fastened my bottle green, pleated skirt, and pulled on my hockey socks. Oh didn't I look beautiful? The neon pink gum shield just topped off the look. What was the point in the House Hockey Competition?
As usual, the group of un-sporty girls were late causing Miss Rhodes to shriek at us " Get a MOVE on! Your holding us up girls!" Did she want to discover I had a talent for inflicting hockey stick related injuries?
After being " reserve" (or hiding at the edge of the pitch to prevent being chosen to play) for the first half of the match, I was forced to join in, although it was a one in a million chance that someone would actually pass the ball to me. Everyone knew how bad I was at this game. The boys were on the field next to us, happily charging about in a game of rugby. I saw Gerard hovering at the edge of the scrum, of course he wasn't the type to practically kill himself for a ball. He saw me and waved. I waved back, feeling all warm inside although my fingers were numb and felt like they were about to drop off. I suddenly realized I was in my sports kit, the least flattering outfit in the world. And my legs... WHY was I so pale? The hockey ball sailed straight past me, and off the pitch, causing a chorus of shrieks to come flying in my direction. God, the only time someone passes to me is when I'm not paying attention, what the hell?
" For god sake, Tasha"
" Natasha wake up dear! Pay attention to the game, stop wasting everyone's time!" Fuck you Miss Rhodes. Fuck. You.
40 minutes of torture later and we were allowed to start heading back to school. The sporty girls all ran ahead, their team hoodies emblazoned with their surnames visible for miles, while the un-sporty girls got together in their groups, chatting and laughing. I tried jogging ahead, desperate to get some warmth back into my fingers. One of the sporty girls had slowed down, and stared at me.
" Have I got two heads or something?" I tried to be polite to everyone, but the majority of the hockey team were an exception.
" What's with the thermal?" she said, staring at my sleeves where I was pulling them down around my knuckles.
" erm... in case you haven't noticed...it's COLD" Did they get a free brain removal with their spray tan or something?
" Is it to cover up your scars?" She giggled.
" What are you even talking about Maisy?"
" Where you cut yourself duuh" Wow, she was an idiot. Pretty, but still an idiot.
" I don't cut myself Maisy, because that's stupid. I am not an emo." I replied, resisting temptation to slap her. She wasn't worth it.
I got changed slowly, all the girls hushed whenever they came near me. I took off my thermal and went to put on my shirt. The girl next to me, Anna, discreetly looked at my wrists as I stuffed my polo top in my bag. She thought I couldn't see her. Well, they could look all they wanted, they weren't going to find anything. Now I knew just how Gerard felt when he was constantly called an emo. I understood how he hated people who jumped to conclusions. I stuffed my arms into my blazer, scooped up my sports bag and left the changing room. I went to wait for Gerard. Looks like we were about to so spend another break time in the art room. That seemed to be the only place we could go without being stared at.