Page 55 of How We Began

I just pulled the duvet back up again.

Now I want a drink, but it is only the 10th of January. I can’t quit this easily so instead I called the gym to find out what classes are on that I can escape to.

Spinning… sounds fun.

(9.45 p.m.)

“What are you doing?” Ben asked. Again. Like finding me face first on the hallway floor wasn’t to be expected at some point in the future.

Believe me, it always will be.

“Um.” I was in so much pain I couldn’t think of a comeback. It had taken me ten minutes to do the two-minute walk from the car to the door. The geese were frighteningly close when they sensed a prey that could not outrun them. I didn’t bother timing how long the stairs took.

“What class did you take?” I didn’t look up but I can hear his smile.

“Spinning. It is the work of the devil, but supposedly gives you buns of steel,” I said, muffled into the carpet.

“Come on, crazy girl.” He pulled me up off the floor and I tried not to moan, but failed miserably, as he slipped his arm around my waist and helped me into the lounge where I stopped and looked in shock. Goth Chick, the rare spotted leopard from our very first week, was sprawled on the torture chairs in tears. Meredith and Jayne were hovering around like they weren’t entirely sure what they were supposed to be doing.

“What’s up?” I asked as I tried to lower myself onto a chair without whimpering in pain.

“Eva and I had a big fight,” she squeaked through the tears streaking her makeup around her face. She could have auditioned for a Kiss tribute band and they would welcomed her with open arms.

I smiled up at Ben as he handed me a bowl of rice salad. I spooned some straight into my mouth. Spinning is hard work. “Who’s Eva?”

Ben bit down on his sarky grin. “Um, our other flat mate, Lil.”

“Oh.”

I shovelled the salad in my mouth, the only thing keeping my mind distracted from the fact that my legs were about to fall off.

Goth Chick looked at me, not offended by my inability to remember her or her best friend. She then proceeded to tell me all the gory details of how she was seeing a guy on campus but last night found out that Eva had also been seeing him, too. How this guy managed to double cross two of the most standout noticeable girls on campus is beyond me, but I managed to make some sympathetic noises in the right places.

“So, are you back then?” I asked. I didn’t want to seem rude, but we’d merely nodded at each other in passing in the last four months.

“Yeah, I think so,” she said, smearing more mascara into her hairline.

I tried to get myself out of my foam torture chair but not much happened. Ben laughed as he leant forward, pulled me up, then threw me over his shoulder. Walking me into my room, he chucked me on my bed, nothing romantic about it.

“Lay off the exercise, hey, Lil?” He smirked before heading towards my door.

Sarcastic arse. Nice arse, but arse all the same.

11th January

I may be dead.

There’s not a single muscle in my body that doesn’t feel like it has been stretched to the absolute maximum before being ripped from my skeleton, jumped on by a herd of elephants, and then stuck back on again—not necessarily in the right place—with superglue.

12th January

I’ve been unable to walk up and down stairs for two days. I’ve missed lectures and everything. I’d like to report that I’m completely gutted to miss out on all of the academic knowledge I should have been learning, but in truth I’m more gutted that I’ve missed out on eaves dropping on conversations. Meredith, bless her, has done a good job of keeping me in the loop. She even took notes.

I’ve woken up determined. Today I will sort things out with my mum and dad. They can’t keep treating me this way. I’m their daughter, but I am also an adult. They’ve got to acknowledge my decisions and choices in life.

Something like that.

(Something Like That)