The old auditorium had been given over to our year for prelims and finals. It wasn't massive - just about the size of two regular classrooms, which is what it would be converted to after finals were over. It once housed the whole school for morning assemblies, but as the student population grew, it had become impossible to fit everyone inside. They'd then built something much grander, with all the money they'd made off their excessive fees.
So it had been a practical choice to just shove the whole Matric class in there for prelims, and fortunately it was just big enough. There were only forty-five of us, after all. The year above us had been smaller, so they'd fit in a single classroom, and the year below us was so big they'd probably have to be put in multiple classes anyway.
'Preliminary examinations' were in full swing. They were apparently very important, and we were supposed to be suitably terrified. But the question papers were still drawn up by our teachers, and they were also in charge of making sure we didn't cheat, so the impact on our final grades would be quite low compared to the much more rigorously structured finals. I'd heard from my siblings that the whole point of prelims was to be so difficult that you got a terrible mark and studied harder for finals, anyway.
But seeing as I'd been studying with Louis, Angela and Sue this whole time, and actually putting in effort for once, I really wasn't worried. Maybe I should have been - my brother had even phoned me up to 'prepare' me for how much I was going to struggle, but we'd done one of the Maths papers and the Accounting paper already, and I'd breezed through them. And Sue and I had been terrified about Accounting, but we'd both thought that it had gone fine. After that one, everything else felt easy.
Was I being cocky? Maybe, but I didn't think so. I'd never worked this hard in my life. Part of it was Louis and Angela's good influence, but I'd also been throwing myself at schoolwork so that I didn't have to deal with the Eric thing - either talking to him too much, or thinking about how he'd react when I told him I didn't want to be with him any more.
Or the Jamie thing, actually. He was still coming to my house a few nights a week, and had been since the Science Fair. But lately all that happened was that he'd get there, we'd have our fun, and I'd send him home, so I could carry on studying. It felt uncomplicated now, and I hadn't wanted to kiss him again. I still didn't know how I felt about that, but it didn't seem important any more.
The last thing I was worried about, though, was not being prepared for this particular prelim, which was our English Literature paper. Angela and I had written a dozen essays on each of the setworks - Anthony and Cleopatra, The Catcher in the Rye, Disgrace - and we'd discussed them back and forth. Louis and Sue had just read them and asked us questions. She'd been slightly more panicked about it than he had, naturally, but all four of us felt pretty ready.
I wasn't trying to cram facts into my head before the test, because I didn't have to. Even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't have, because Ellie had commandeered my notes and was busy rifling through them urgently. I had my phone out, and was keeping one eye on the door for when Mrs. A came back in. I was busy chatting as casually as I could to Eric, enjoying the brief stretch of freedom before the test.
[Oh my god]
[I almost forgot to tell you]
[I met someone online who goes to your school]
[He's in your year]
______________[Okay.]
______________[You know there are like 20 guys in my year.]
______________[It's not like you've found a unicorn.]
[Jay]
[He's gay]
______________[OH.]
______________[Well you could have led with that.]
______________[Shit.]
______________[That's intriguing.]
[Can I tell him about you?]
______________[No.]
______________[Wtf?]
______________[There are definitely people in my year I don't trust.]
[He says I can tell you about him.]
[His name's Nick.]
Well, that had happened suddenly. I wasn't exactly shocked at who it was. Nick sort of embodied a lot of gay stereotypes. I hadn't automatically assumed it, but having hung out with a group of homophobes in the past, it wasn't as if I'd never heard it muttered about him either.
He was Angela's main competition in Art class - he didn't have her technical skill, but she didn't have his prodigal creativity. He was kind of the school's go-to authority on any sort of grand art or design project - set pieces for musicals, banners for events, nativity scenes around Christmas. That sort of thing.
His dad owned a custom furniture company, and helped him with a lot of his work, so everything he did was usually immaculate and incredibly professional. But that was all I really knew about him - he was very soft-spoken, and I thought I'd heard him say about five words through-out all our time at school together.
I looked over at him. His back was to me, and he was sitting around the table with his friends - Lea, Clair, Samantha and Tiffany - and periodically checking his phone.
______________[Ah.]
[So you do know him?]
______________[Again, there are like 20 guys in my year, so I obviously know who he is.]
______________[But I don't know him that well.]
______________[Don't tell him about me yet.]
______________[I don't need to be worrying about that during prelims.]
[Okay, that's fine]
[Don't tell anyone about him]
______________[Yeah, of course.]
______________[Have to go.]
[Okay]
[Bye]
I shoved my phone in my bag, and made an effort to avoid looking directly at Nick. Talking to Ellie about it would have been nice, but she seemed busy with the notes, and I didn't exactly want to out Nick to her - despite how ready he'd been for me to know.
I kept him in my peripheral vision though, just to make sure he wasn't looking over at me. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I wasn't entirely sure I could trust Eric to keep me being gay a secret. He'd told Louis without my permission, after all. Every now and then I'd sweep my eyes over the rest of the room, in an attempt to act casual while still keeping an eye on Nick.
Jamie was over at the next table. After breaking up with Megan, he'd eventually started hanging out with his friends again, and after the holidays he'd stopped hanging out with me and Ellie so much - during the daylight hours, anyway. Matt was pouring over notes, and Ryan had a pained and panicked expression on his face. Drew and Jamie were casually chatting, and making jokes which Ryan didn't seem to be enjoying. One of the things they said made him flinch, and they both laughed.
"Don't be a fag, man." Drew said, tossing a pencil at him. Jamie laughed.
I looked over sharply, fixing my eyes on Jamie's, and his laughter quickly died down. He, of all people, shouldn't have been laughing at that. Matt very calmly looked up from his notes, and punched Drew in the shoulder.
"Don't say that word man." His tone was serious. "That's fucked up. You sound like a bible-basher asshole."
"Fine, sorry." Drew held up his hands.
I looked away, and frowned. Ellie was still busy with the notes, so I couldn't do anything but sit there and fume. When my phone buzzed, I picked it up, eager for a distraction, but not finding a particularly useful one. It was a message from Jamie.
[Shit, sorry. I shouldn't have laughed]
[It was stupid and bad]
______________[It's fine.]
______________[Whatever.]
[K]
I shoved my phone away just as Mrs. A stormed in, flustered, with the question papers. The test was exhausting. I'm not really made for handwriting page after page after page. By the time we were done my hand was covered in ink, and cramping up. I thought I'd handled the topic well, though.
We'd gotten to choose which setwork we wanted to write about, and I'd chosen Anthony and Cleopatra, because I'd liked the quote they wanted us to base the essay off of. While I was busy reading the others, the idea had lodged in my mind, and I'd ran with it.
Anthony hadn't been Cleopatra's first choice - Caesar had been brought low by treachery, after all - but she'd had to adapt. To move on. Anthony had played along, and why not? None of the politics of Rome had been as serious. For him, it had never been the politics of survival that Caesar and Cleopatra had always had to be proficient at. Ultimately Cleopatra, Egypt personified, wasn't served by her entanglement with the seemingly unlimited power of Caesar, and Anthony had been a poor consolation prize.
