complexion, Lynx.
And I cling on to the thought of seeing him.
Deep breath in.
And breathe out.
Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx
His soft cheeks and gelled hair gives me focus amongst all the glitter and chaos. Shaznia collapses and flops in the seat next to me with all her bags and coat and says,
“God I hate all this!”
Why would she hate all this? She gets to sit next to me, her friend, so I ask her and she says,
“Errrr…I hate that I have to watch old teachers sing carols badly.”
Maybe she doesn’t want to be my friend any more and the thought circles round and round my head because her card didn’t say anything about being my friend. I think about what Fiona has said about getting obsessive.
“If you are having a repetitive thought, interrupt it with a healthy positive thought. Stop them from taking over. You are in control M. You are in charge.” So I think about Bella wagging her tail and I smile to myself.
“What are you smiling at M?” asks Shaznia. “Weirdo.”
“I was just thinking about Bella.”
“Awwww. I love Bella! Can I come over and see her?”
“Sure…I’m not a weirdo,” I say. Shaznia ignores this.
“Over Christmas?”
“Yes,” I reply and I want to ask, what day? What time? But then she starts to play with my hair.
“I love your hair M.” I tolerate the discomfort, for my friendship. I really am wearing my friendship mask right now. With every stroke of my hair she is leaving her stain on me. I have to pull away. “So shiny. Have you put a colour in it?”
“Yes, it’s called Gorgeous Shimmer.”
“And your eye make-up is so pretty.”
“Oh it’s from Skylar’s Guide to Doing Christmas Right! It’s the toned-down version of smoky party eyes.”
“Will you do mine like that?”
“Sure!” I reply. “If you come and see Bella I can get all the colours and brushes ready.” And I want to know when exactly will she visit, but then she squeals,
“Yea!” And claps her hands.
“Yea!” I copy and clap my hands and I worry, what day she will visit? And I’m not a weirdo…am I?!
Mr Crane, the Head, is a tall, slow man with lots of angles and he looks a bit like some kind of bird. He is a…measured man. All his footsteps are the same distance and he wears the same shirt and tie on the same days every week. Today is Friday and he is wearing his blue shirt and a beige, checked tie. And he is not very friendly. He appears on the stage and tells us all to be quiet and everyone stops talking but it’s not quiet. Chairs scrape, teachers whisper, sick people cough…and then off-key singing begins.
The carol concert was painful but I don’t think that had anything to do with my autism. I think the teachers thought they were being young and they’re just not. I think they think acting young makes them popular. It doesn’t – they are old and we need old people. So why aren’t they just proud of that? I need older people to help me, guide and tell me what to do sometimes. Not sing a rap song, in a Christmas carol style, when I should be in double art.
Shaznia kept looking back at Lynx and his best mate Jake.
“What’s Lynx doing?” I whispered.
“Errr, he’s kind of looking over at us.”
Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx
“KIND OF! What does KIND OF mean?” I turn and he is looking. He blushes! I blush and I turn back to face the teachers ruining Silent Night. OMG! This is the first step to a steady relationship! That’s what it says in Cherry Magazine, The Flirt Issue!
Eye contact is the best way to know if he’s interested in you, and if your boy blushes this could be love!!!
The teachers do a particularly flat version of a song by some men called Simon and Garfunkel, called The Sound of Silence. Obviously writing about silence, then making a noise about it, doesn’t make sense and is confusing, but right now the most important thing is that Lynx looked at me! Maybe it was my smoky eyes that did it. Like Skylar says, Smoky eyes are a sure fire way to getting noticed by the boy you want. It works!!!!
I’m buzzing! My senses are heightened!
Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx
Eventually the singing is mercifully over and we can leave the echoing hall and headache-inducing lights. No one is in register order any more.
All the years are m=udDl-ed up and out of oerdr.
As we file out of the hall for the last time this year, I scan the room looking for Lynx. I can smell the high notes of Lynx body spray. The muddle has brought him nearer to me. Amber Jade is mixed amongst all the other deodorants and perfumes but I can identify this scent. Amber Jade.
But instead of Lynx, Joe appears by my side and is talking about how he now thinks he has permanent inner ear damage, which he closely follows up with the word “joke.” (Not funny to joke about life-debilitating medical conditions.) And I trace the Amber Jade and see Lynx talking to Shaznia! And I want to rush over and talk too but I can’t because the lights are buzzing and there are too many people in the way and I hate the way I am! I hate it! And I feel angry! Raging! Why can’t I just go up to them and be like everyone else!!! All the other pretty girls in Sevenoaks! Pretty girls who effortlessly chit-chat! And small talk.
And then he disappears…disappears into Christmas. Off to his wonderful Amber-Lynx scented world of Jade, Gold Temptation and White Peace…
Then Shaznia appears at my face,
“Are you sure you can’t come up town hun?”
She asks me this question like she has asked me earlier and she hasn’t asked me earlier. “I’ve got enough money to get you an eggnog latte.” My stomach churns.
“I have to get home,” I say. Which isn’t a complete lie, so I’m not worried about another tape worm incident, but I can’t because I know The Beast would be waiting for me in town. Pacing around the streets, sniffing me out to pounce on me and render me useless by the town fountain.
“Never mind,” she replies quickly and backs out the hall saying, “Merry Christmas M! I’ll text you over the holidays.” And all I really want to do is throw my bag over my shoulder, re-do my smoky eyes, apply some more Pink Kisses lipstick and say,
“Sure, see you up there hun.”
But I can’t.
I
