Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 11

I have recalled this day so often, it appears to me now, whole, like I have travelled back in time. The path is exactly the same: well-trodden and eternally covered in wet leaves, even in the height of summer. The trees, scorched with a thousand cigarette butts, stand tall and the canopy hangs high overhead. The nearby voices, loud and brazen, echo from nowhere, masked by the wall of foliage.

I don’t know who found the smoking hut: a disused old shed in the middle of a tiny wood. When we arrived at St Bartholomew’s it had long been a tradition, the headquarters of the chosen few who broke the rules with no danger of punishment.

I follow Graham and myself down the path recalling Benjamin’s words: ‘memories are indestructible.’ He told me I could revisit them if I wanted to. Like the threat of falling into the Edge, it appeared to be a little too easy. I am here when I want to find Penny. My brain has obeyed me, but not in the way I imagined.

I hear commotion around the corner. I emerge creeping, still not used to being invisible to everyone else here. There were only four of them that day. Rita, tall and boyish, wearing whatever clothes she wanted. Tom, captain of a team I’ve forgotten, muscly and silent. Yasmine, Penny’s best friend, always looking out of place, book in hand but obviously confident, that one inexplicable person who remained bookish and popular at the same time. And there, slightly behind her, chewing on her fingernail, dark hair a curtain masking her face, is Penny.

‘The geeks make an entrance,’ says Rita, laughing, barging into Graham knocking him sideways. ‘You best have brought your own, otherwise you’re sitting like Yasmine’s hanger on.’

‘Shut up, Rita,’ snaps Yasmine, looking up from her book. She doesn’t turn to Penny, but I see the girl look at her shoes; scuffed old converse that should be in the bin.

‘Choose a stump then, losers.’ Rita isn’t even looking our way anymore.

I watch myself, repeatedly glancing Penny’s way, trying to remain inconspicuous and failing in a spectacular fashion. Graham instantly collapses beside Yasmine and begins an unsuccessful flirt.
                I stand, not knowing what to do with my hands, fiddling with the hem of my blazer before I reluctantly follow him, the feeling of not belonging experienced and recalled, my stomach tightening uncomfortably as though the eyes of the world are aware of my awkwardness.