It was easy for her to say, she wasn’t the school whore.
We avoided sitting right at the back of the courts, seeing as that was reserved for the Year Twelves' posse; instead, we chose far right in the corner so we could at least see potential enemy attack.
“Where’s Adam?” I said, mainly to myself, as my eyes darted around the crowd, hopeful to find him and yet fearful to lock eyes with Sarah Norman.
“You know he’s late to everything.”
“True,” I admitted, although it still didn’t make me feel any better.
Had he been discovered in the girls’ toilets? Red-handed with a shredded diary? Oh God, I felt sick. Adam always had my back; it was true. I always tended to need someone, either Tess or Adam, because I was always in these ridiculous situations, if not with Sarah then someone else. I was a magnet for disaster and after each heart-pounding moment of trouble I always swore I would change, that things would be so different if everything turned out right. I would be a good girl, who would study hard for good grades like Tess, I would stop thinking about boys, and it would be head down from now on. It was what I was praying for right now; I would be good if Adam showed up, if Adam was okay and on his way, scot-free. My heart pounded, kicked up to the next level when I saw Sarah and her friends make their way through the door.
“Oh God.” I gulped. Causing Tess to do a double take in the direction I was looking.
“Okay, be cool, there is nothing they can do here.”
Meaning they couldn’t pummel me to death with all these witnesses; somehow I didn’t feel very comforted by this.
Where the hell was Adam?
I hadn’t seen him since this morning, given I had spent most of my time loitering around the music room where anyone of any notoriety was bound not to find me, especially Sarah.
I had sent Tess on a mission to find him at lunch but to no avail, which was strange. Usually if he wasn’t with us he could be found at the cricket nets or playing hacky sack with the boys. But he’d been nowhere to be seen.
Brent Shaw, another Year Eleven cricket-playing boy, sat down in front of us.
“Hey, Brent, have you seen Adam?” Tess asked, tugging the back of his shirt to grab his attention.
He turned, brows skyward as if surprised by the question. He shrugged first, seemingly knowing as little as we did until he actually spoke. “Someone said they saw him at the back of the library.”
Tess’s mouth gaped as if to ask another question but the words wouldn’t come. I’m certain by the frown on her face she wanted to ask, “Are you sure?” Tess looked at me, her dumbfounded expression mirroring my own.
Adam in the library made absolutely no sense. And at the back of the library was designated for the study alcoves, where all the hard-core students sat in intense silence doing homework or cramming for exams. This definitely was no place for Adam.
Before we could voice exactly that the PA system screeched to life with ear-piercing feedback as Principal Morris drew everyone to attention, and assembly began.
I had all but given up on Adam, until eight minutes into assembly when the door to the sports centre flew open and in strolled a cool, casual Adam. He knew the game; he always locked eyes with Mrs Pattinson, the grumpiest of all the teachers, and gave her a little wink as if to say “Sorry.” She always did the little pursed lips and shake of her head, but it was really disguising a smile and the ‘Oh, Adam’ roll of the eyes, as if he was just a lovable rogue, and to all the teachers he was; he could charm his way out of anything.
It took him only a short moment to find where Tess and I were sitting. It was good to actually focus on something different, to avert my eyes to Adam walking and stepping around people instead of being über aware of the daggers Sarah was sending me in my peripheral vision.
Tess and I scooted apart, so Adam could plunk himself between us. It was our usual move; somehow since Year Seven, Adam’s spot was always reserved for the middle.
“Studying? Really?” Tess whispered. “Please tell me this was just a nasty rumour.”
Adam smiled, placing his full attention on Principal Morris.
“I was just finishing a little assignment, you don’t have to sound so surprised.”
Tess looked at me again and we shared the same uncertain look, before turning forward and pretending to give a damn over who would get certificates for the math whizzes of Year Nine.
With Adam and Tess by my side I felt invincible, like, do your worst, bitches, as I lifted my head high as we slowly edged our way out of the centre after another mind-numbing assembly. Through the doors and home free it felt, even though it wasn’t quite the case: nothing was ever that simple.
“Give me back my fucking diary,” came a voice from behind me.
Shit.
I stopped, turning to face a rather pissed-looking Sarah. I raised my brows with innocence.
“Sorry?”
