“What are your names?” Esther asked, and yes, she had something behind her back too.
I told them my name, but I was really nervous, and when Tanya said hers I couldn’t help thinking how much more confident she was than me.
“I didn’t realise the two of you were so frightened of history,” Annabel said. She pointed to one of the displays we were walking past. “I know it looks pretty graphic, but it’s important to learn about. You shouldn’t be scared.”
“We’re not scared,” I said. At the time I was totally confused. I loved history, I wasn’t afraid of a stupid poster. I got the top prize in my primary school for my project about Roman women.
Tanya saw it before I did and managed to jump backwards. I was too busy frowning at the displays and trying to figure out what I was meant to be afraid of when Chloe and Esther revealed a Capri-Sun each from behind their backs and squirted them onto us, aiming for our crotches. I was soaked, but worse, it looked like I wet myself. Esther and Chloe threw the Capri-Suns in a bin close by and started shrieking with laughter.
Yep. I basically looked like I had just wet myself in the middle of the corridor.
But don’t worry, it gets worse.
“Oh my God! Sir!” Annabel called. “This girl has just wet herself! Poppy has just wet herself!” And then she burst into laughter too.
To my horror, the entire class stopped in their tracks and turned to look at me as Mr. Edwards hurried from the front of the group, taking in the scene. Me, with my wet trousers and warm face. The puddle of liquid on the ground between my feet. The three girls pointing at me, making the others join in, everyone roaring with laughter and me the butt of the joke. I couldn’t even look at anyone.
“Are you okay, Poppy?” Mr. Edwards asked. He turned to everyone else, and his voice rose. “That is enough! I will not have you all laughing at her. Go and wait down the end of the corridor for me, and if I catch you misbehaving you will all have detention even though it’s the first day! Is that clear?”
I can remember it word for word, because all I was thinking was, oh my God, Mr. Edwards thinks I have wet myself. He’s trying to protect me. He’s making it worse.
“I didn’t wet myself,” I said weakly, too late. “It was Chloe and Esther—they—”
Annabel walked past then, and she shook her head at me.
“Chloe and Esther?” Mr. Edwards said. “What did they do?”
I couldn’t be a snitch on the first day. I just couldn’t.
“Nothing,” I said.
Mr. Edwards frowned at me but decided to let it go. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and I’m sure there will be some spare trousers from PE. I’ll get someone to take you to reception, and they’ll sort you out, okay? And if you need a medical note from the doctor about your bladder . . .”
“Sir, no,” I whispered, knowing how pained I must have looked. “I didn’t wet myself. I promise. Please don’t say anything about it.”
“Well, alright.” Another student happened to be walking past, and he called them over. “Are you able to take one of my Year Sevens to reception?”
“Yes, sir,” the student said, eyeing me up and down curiously.
Mr. Edwards smiled at me. “I’ll see you later. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure no one mentions this again.”
As he went back to the rest of the class, I couldn’t help wondering how he was going to manage that. Even I’d be talking to Tanya about the girl who wet herself on the first day, and I wouldn’t believe her no matter how much she insisted she didn’t.
It’s going to be a story forever now. I’m going to be that girl.
And to add to my humiliation, a cleaner showed up with a mop and bucket just as the other student and I made to leave. The corridor was empty by this point, but it was still awful, and I was terrified at any minute another Year Seven group was going to come down here on their tour.
The other student turned out to be a Year Ten girl, who kindly didn’t ask why I was standing there with wet trousers and instead took me to where I needed to go. The reception staff gave me spare trousers, which didn’t look too different from the ones I had on, and a plastic bag to take my other ones home in. By the time I got back to my tutor room, lessons had started, and Mr. Edwards had to escort me to my maths class. I ignored the looks and whispers as I came in, trying to hide the carrier bag behind my legs.
Fortunately, Tanya had saved a seat for me and when I sat down she reached over and squeezed my hand.
“What happened?” she whispered.
“They gave me some spare trousers. That was it.”
“You didn’t tell Mr. Edwards it was Chloe and Esther?”
At the mention of their names I looked around, trying to find them. Chloe, Esther, and Annabel were at a table of four, the other seat occupied by a boy with his head already on the desk. They caught me looking and grinned, miming holding their noses.
“No,” I mumbled to Tanya. “I didn’t want to be a snitch. But I should have. And why didn’t you help me?”
“I’m sorry.” She squeezed my hand again. “Really I am, Poppy. It won’t happen again. We’ll stick together from now on.”
It’s not the first day I wanted. Tanya kept to her word, ignoring the three girls when they tried to talk to her, and even telling Esther to be quiet when she tried to bring up what had happened earlier. But once I got home, holding that stupid carrier bag, I was exhausted.
I pretty much just wanted to come straight upstairs and write this all down in here, but there was no getting past Mum and Dad that easily.
Ugh, parents, right? I know they mean well and whatever but sometimes you just want to do your own thing and they’re always bothering you. Making you stay downstairs and spend time with them. Eating every meal with them and you better make sure everything is off your plate! Even if you’re upset. But don’t tell them you’re upset because then that’s all you’re gonna talk about all night.
Look, I love Mum and Dad, I really do. They can just be a bit much, alright?
They were cooking dinner when I walked through to the kitchen, dumping my bags by the island counter and hopping on a stool. I knew there was no point in going straight upstairs, because one of them would be after me, asking what was wrong, why wasn’t I coming in to say hello, especially as it was my first day. Mum was peeling potatoes while Dad watched a saucepan, but they both stopped what they were doing and gave me a big hug when they saw me. Even my little sister, Wendy, normally stuck in her own imaginary world, heaved herself off the sofa in the corner and joined in the embrace. Seeing her in her uniform, my primary school’s colours, made me wistful and a bit emotional.
I wish I could go back.
No, I don’t! I’m not going to cross that out because it’ll make the page look messy, but I don’t mean that. I don’t even know why I wrote it. Honestly, I’m getting ridiculous over one stupid moment.
“How was your first day of secondary school, lovely?” Mum asked, returning to her potatoes. “We’re making you your favourite tonight to celebrate, homemade chips and Dad’s macaroni cheese.”
“Delicious,” I said automatically. “Thank you both.”
Nothing gets past my parents though.
Dad gestured his wooden spoon at me. “You didn’t answer the question. How was school? Were the teachers nice? Did you make any new friends? Did you get to see the Art department?”
Embarrassing moment number two incoming.
“What’s this?” Wendy picked up the carrier bag and peered inside. “Why do you have a smelly pair of trousers in there?”
“What?” Mum came to check and I wanted the stool to swallow me whole. “Poppy, what’s this?” She took a proper look at me and realised. “You’re wearing different trousers. What happened?”
“Some Capri-Sun spilled on me, that’s all,” I said. “So the school gave me trousers from PE.”
“I can still smell it!” Mum took the trousers out, letting the carrier bag fall to the ground, and sniffed hard. “They’re even still a bit damp. Just how much spilt on you? This looks like the whole packet!”
Wendy raised her eyebrow. She’s getting good at it. She always likes that she can do something I can’t. “How do you spill a Capri-Sun?”
“My thoughts exactly.” Mum put the trousers in the washing machine, then leaned over the kitchen island to focus on me. “Someone hasn’t done this deliberately, have they?”
“No, Mum!” I snapped, hating seeing her eyes widen with hurt. “I told you it was an accident. That’s it. My day was fine, okay? Just fine.”
“Poppy—” Mum reached across for me but I stood, pushing the stool out.
“Just leave me alone.” I ran from the kitchen, hurrying up the stairs and into the safety of my bedroom.
And that’s where I am now, writing in you, diary. I know they’ll come in soon. I know they’ll comfort me, make me laugh, make everything a bit better. But I just want these few minutes to myself.
It’s silly. Everything will be fine.
Oh God, that’s them knocking now. Here comes the comfort brigade.
June 27, 2007