All the Other Days. Jack Hartley

know many people here, but I’m used to moving around so I guess it’ll be fine in time,’ she says, looking across the field.

      Her voice is so soft and soothing to hear. I don’t want the words to stop flowing from her mouth.

      ‘I’ve been here my whole life,’ I reply. ‘I can’t wait to get away from it all. Do you know your way round school yet?’

      ‘Yeah, I think I’m getting the hang of it. I just changed one of my subjects to photography, so I’m not sure where that is. Can you help me?’

      ‘Of course!’ I reply straight away. ‘I pretty much live in those classrooms whenever I’m not here on the field. I’ve got a study break next, so I can take you there if you like?’

      ‘You’re into art too? I guess I’m not surprised. You look like the type. Are you any good?’ she asks.

      ‘Ahh, I don’t think so. I just do it ’cause it’s fun.’

      ‘Well, can I see some of your work?’ she asks with a hint of a smile.

      I hesitate for a second because I’m not sure if I want her to see my drawings, but the way her lips fold up as they smile takes away all the control I have. I think I they’d make me do anything she says.

      ‘Um, I guess so. I’ve got my sketch pad in my bag.’ I grab the pad out of my bag and pass it to Kate.

      She starts flicking through the pictures and looks up smiling at me. ‘These are really good! Who is she?’ she says curiously.

      ‘Um, she’s just this girl I came up with in my head, not really real, just sort of made her up.’

      She looks at the one of the drawings of two hands holding each other that I’ve drawn. ‘Ha! She has the same bracelet as me,’ she says. ‘I like these. You’re really good!’

      I worry that she might notice that it’s her I’ve been drawing, and then she won’t want to talk to me again. I wouldn’t blame her. I’d be scared if I just met someone that had a whole lot of drawings of me in their bag. It’s kind of creepy and borderline stalking.

      ‘Thanks. I’ve never really shown anyone my work other than my teacher. Do you want me to take you to class now?’

      ‘Yeah, that’d be good, thanks. You lead the way!’

      I walk beside her towards the art department. The leaves are scattered all over the ground, and it looks stunning. I can’t believe I’m walking next to the girl I’ve been dreaming about, and I feel as though this crush has turned into something bigger, more real and also more overwhelming. While we walk, she hums and I don’t have a clue what the tune is; yet, that’s all I can focus on.

      ‘What are you humming?’

      ‘Just a Lana Del Ray song.’

      ‘What is it?’

      ‘Brooklyn baby. You should listen to her! I think you might like her music. Anyway, thanks for taking me to class. I’ll see you later?’ she says making it sound more like a question than a statement.

      ‘Yeah, of course, see you,’ I reply, emphasising the “you”.

      Surely that “you” means she really wants to see me again — not like a generic “I’ll see ya later”. I wish I didn’t have to analyse everything I hear or see under a microscope. Nothing ever just goes in one ear and out the other. The words play in my head until I come to the conclusion they were deliberate and she does want to see me. At least I hope I’ve read it right.

      In my study break, I go and see the counsellor. I wait outside the office on the old wooden desk chair for Mrs Walker to get me to come in. There’s posters all over the walls about bullying and substance abuse. But nothing about how I feel inside my head. It makes me wonder if I really am very different from everyone? My thought gets interrupted as I see the door open. It makes me anxious. It’s like there’s a whole hive of bees buzzing about in my chest and it won’t stop.

      ‘Hey Judd, please come in,’ she says with her soft voice.

      She’s quite a tall lady with thick red wavy hair and big piercing blue eyes that stand out against her pale white skin. She must be in her mid-thirties, but she’s still quite attractive. I go in and take a seat.

      ‘How have you been since I last saw you?’ she asks.

      ‘I’ve been a lot better I guess, well especially the last few days.’

      She looks happy to hear this. ‘That’s great to hear! Any reason why this change?’

      ‘Well, I’m not too sure. I think I might have made a new friend.’ I feel the anxiety start to slip away as I begin to speak.

      ‘That’s wonderful. How did you become friends?’ she asks.

      I pause for a second because I don’t know if I should tell her about the dreams and the drawing, but I know it’s all confidential so I don’t feel as weird for saying it.

      ‘Well, I was at the park and I saw this girl, who I swear I’d seen before — and I know this might sound silly. But then I finally met her when I went to the park, and I guess we just started talking.’

      She looks at me still smiling, then I know what she’s going to ask next.

      ‘Is this friendship or do you think there’s some feelings there?’

      I laugh. ‘Well, I’d be lying if I didn’t say she’s beautiful, ’cause she really is. I don’t know. No one’s ever really liked me, so I don’t know how I feel.’

      ‘Well, there can’t be anything wrong with spending time with her. I haven’t seen you smile like that before. I’d just like to pick up from where we left last week. How have things been at home?’

      I go quiet and the conversation stalls as I think of an answer. I don’t really like talking about home with people because it usually brings me down.

      ‘I guess maybe a little better. I haven’t really noticed. I’ve been busy drawing lots lately,’ I say, trying to deflect her attention away from what we have talked about in the past.

      ‘I guess no news is good news sometimes. Sounds to me like this has been a better week all round for you then, yeah?’

      ‘Yeah I guess it has,’ I say, just as the bell rings. ‘I just feel a little more free, like something good might happen.’

      ‘I’m glad to hear. I’ll let you get to class, but I’ll book you in for the same time next week?’

      ‘Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you.’ I walk out of the room and head towards the English department for last period.

      As I open the classroom door, I see Kate sitting at the back. But all the seats are taken around her so I sit in my usual seat in the middle of the classroom on the far left next to Arthur. Maybe she’s been in this class and I haven’t noticed her before because I wasn’t looking, but now that I’ve seen her face I can’t stop wanting to see her. The teacher picks up from where we left off last period and goes through the Romeo and Juliet play then says we are going to all take part as a class and perform the play. Mr Fisher is our English teacher, an older, balding guy with big black-framed glasses and thick grey stubble on his cheeks. He stops reading the play for a second and then introduces Kate to the classroom.

      ‘Sorry, I forgot to do this at the start of the period. Everyone, we have a new student who has switched to our class and that’s Kate. She’s moved here all the way from New York, so please make her feel welcome,’ he says.

      I feel kind of weird in my stomach when he introduces her, mainly because I don’t want any of the other guys to know her because they will want to be with her. I start to think about Charles Flattery, the most popular guy in my year, trying to grease onto her. He’s a jock on the school basketball team. The guy’s only seventeen and is already 6’6 and would be easily over 220 pounds. I