Page 2 of The Story Of Us

“Hi,” she says, moving out of her room and coming towards me.

“Hey.” My voice comes out a little hoarse from the crying, but I clear my throat, and she pretends not to notice.

“I’m Avery. Is that your room?”

“Yeah, I’m Violet. I missed dinner, so I was going to try and find something to eat.”

“You’re in luck. I grabbed some pizza to have later, but you can eat it if you want.” She gestures towards her room, telling me to follow her, and I do.

I glance around her room and see she hasn’t decorated much either. It’s the same layout as mine but flipped, with our beds on opposite walls and the bathroom on the same one. Avery goes to her desk and picks up a napkin with two slices of pizza on it, handing it to me with a smile.

I take it from her as I sit on the chair near her desk, and she takes a place opposite me on her bed.

“Were you crying?” she asks right as I bite down on the slice.

I chew quickly, trying to think of a lie to tell her, but she just smiles at me.

“It’s okay, I cried too. I’ll probably cry again tonight.”

I stifle a laugh at how straightforward she’s being, but it settles me, too.

“Yeah, that’s why I missed dinner.” I hold the pizza up. “Thank you for this.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have a whole drawer full of snacks, so you can come here whenever you’re hungry.”

“I don’t have snacks, but I have books?” I offer, wanting to give her something in return for her kindness.

“What kind of books?”

I tell her about the small collection I’ve brought from home and we spend the rest of the evening getting to know each other. When I get back to my room, I find comfort in the realisation that I’ve just made my first friend.

It hasn’t even been forty-eight hours since my mum left, but she’s already called me maybe thirty times.

I’m walking towards the classroom where I’ll have homeroom for the next few years when I feel my phone vibrate in my blazer pocket. I don’t answer it. All my attention is focused on making sure I find the right classroom.

I make my way through the corridors, checking signs that have been aimed at new students to help them navigate, and finally find the room. My phone continues to vibrate in my pocket, and I take it out with a sigh, leaning against the wall opposite the room before finally answering it.

“Mum.” It comes out harsher than I intended. I know this has been hard for her, but the constant calls have started to become a headache, and I’m growing tired of constantly being checked up on.

“Did you find your classroom, Violet?”

“Yes, I’m standing outside it right now.”

Other students make their way inside, all of us wearing some combination of the uniform. We had a few options of what to wear, either a navy blazer or sweater with a white shirt and black or navy trousers or skirts to go with it. I settled for the sweater and skirt, liking the simplicity of the uniform compared to the colours I’d seen for other schools. A brochure for a school with lime green shirts comes to mind, and I consider myself lucky to have gotten into Coates.

“Okay, and your break is at 10:30, so I’ll call you again then.” I can hear the worry in her voice, but I know this isn’t healthy for either of us. I came here to gain some independence, and I can’t do that if she’s constantly calling me.

“You don’t have to. I’ll call you after school, okay?”

I fiddle with the hem of my skirt; it’s a little too long, reaching nearly past my knees, but I’ll grow into it. Through the open door, I see the kids who will be my classmates for the next few years. They’re already starting to talk to each other, little groups forming as they get to know one another while I’m standing outside on the phone with my mum.

“Okay, call me then, meri jaan. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

I lean my head against the wall, regretting how I spoke to her, but I know I can’t let these constant calls become a regular thing. Taking a deep breath, I push off the wall and enter the classroom I’ll sit in every morning for the next year. There are four rows of identical light brown desks and black chairs facing the front of the classroom where a whiteboard displays “Welcome to Coates, Year 7!” Tall windows run along one entire side of the room, the early morning sunlight brightening the room enough that the overhead lights haven’t been switched on.

The other students walk around as they find their seats, but there doesn’t seem to be any order to it. I make my way through the gaps in the desks towards the back of the room, taking a seat next to the window. The desk next to my claimed one is empty, so I decide to save it for Avery.

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