Page 12 of Sad Girl Hours
But, again, another ten minutes go by and no words have been scratched. Not a single one.
It’s my turn to let out a pathetic groan. “Ughhhhhhh.” I put my head down on my desk, accidentally typing a keysmash intothe still open Word doc. Hey, it might not make sense, but at least the page isn’t empty any more. Maybe I can pass it off as avant-garde, pretend I was inspired by e. e. cummings.
Or, I think to myself as I close everything down, step back across the moat of books surrounding my bed and throw myself down on it like an overworked Disney princess,maybe I just have nothing – no inspiration at all.Maybe I’ll never be a great poet, shattering people’s perceptions with my astute observations of the inner workings of my brain and heart. Maybe my heart is just something that pumps blood around. And maybe I have to be OK with that.
Chapter Six
Nell
I remain in a bit of a grumpy mood, my frustration mounting over the course of the week. I’m still feeling it even as the gang meets up for a picnic at Williamson Park the following Saturday evening to celebrate surviving our first week of term.
It’s beautiful up here. We sit on the sloping grass hill overlooking the entire town – to our left is the huge white-stone monument, the sky above stained with swirls of watercolours streaking across the sky.
“You look pensive,” Vivvie says, passing me the box of veggie tarts that Jenna and I made last night. “Tart for your thoughts?”
“Thank you.” I take the box and bite into one, brushing flecks of golden pastry off my lips before I continue. “I’m just … thinking. About stuff.”
Vivvie raises a single eyebrow. “Illuminating.”
I chuckle. “I’m still stuck on my poetry collection. I can’t think of a single theme that’s good enough to win me the prize.”
“We came up with lots of themes last night that I thought were perfectly respectable, prize-winning ones, but she’s being stubborn,” Jenna adds.
“I can’t believe that.” It’s Casper’s turn to pipe up. “Not our Eleanora – surely not.”
“Listen, I came here for a good time – and a banging sunset picnic – and I’m feeling very attacked right now.”
“You’ll think of something,” Vivvie says. “I’m still thinking up ideas for my collection this term. We’re going to be displayingour pieces at the fundraising showcase when we get back in January. I’m excited,” she says, though she still looks as cool, calm and collected as ever. “I’m going to do something with either lots of gender fuckery or that highlights sustainability. Or some combo of the two.”
“See, they’re both excellent ideas already,” I whine.
Viviana nods. “That is true. Lo siento, I can’t help being this sexy and talented. It’s just a cross I have to bear.”
None of us knew Viviana before uni but she’s told us how she used to be this awkward trans kid with no confidence, who would hide herself away from everything. It’s strange to think that the confident, put-together, fashion-model-esque person before us could ever have been that. I’m glad she feels so secure in herself now, though. I’m proud of her.
“It’s funny how we all turned out that way, isn’t it?” Casper says sagely.
Jenna laughs. “Sure, Casp. All of us.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t want a bit of this.” He flourishes a hand down the length of his body.
“Oh, desperately. What are you doing tonight?” Jenna says, causing Casper’s pale face to flush a delightful shade of fuchsia, despite her deadpan tone.
Vivvie rolls her eyes and I glance at Saffron to see if she’s also amused by this. When I do, however, I find her staring out at the city below us, a box of cookies in her lap and a bottle of raspberry lemonade clasped in her hand.
“Hey,” I say gently. “You OK?”
She doesn’t hear me so I give her a gentle nudge.
“Oh! Sorry, did you want one?” She offers me the cookies. “They’re delicious. Thank you for bringing them.” But I don’t remember seeing her eat one.
“No, I’m good,” I say. “Are you, though? You seem a bit spacey.”
“Was thatanotherspace pun.” Saffron shakes her head lightly, smiling at me like we’ve lived a lifetime of inside jokes. “You’re relentless, Nell, honestly.”
I don’t want to press the issue and make her uncomfortable, so I decide instead to play along. “I’m so sorry. You should solareclipme round the ear.”
“I have no idea what’s going on,” Vivvie says as Saffron’s face works through all the stages of grief. “But I heard that, Nell, and I hated it more than I’ve ever hated anything in my life.”
