by Archer, Kiki
Susan clicked on the accept friendship button, immediately gaining access to Felicity’s home page. She scrolled to the About section and read the facts. Birthday: July 11. Gender: Female. Relationship status: Single. Interested in: Women. Susan paused. Interested in women? Felicity was forever being found in the dorms of St Peter’s All-Boys school down the road. How could she possibly like women? Susan smiled to herself, sure that Felicity would also find her new found interest in women just as amusing. She clicked on the photo tab and started to swipe. Felicity still had her trademark mischievous grin, and her flame-red hair was as wild as she remembered, but something was different. She had aged really well. Her features had flourished and she had blossomed into an exquisitely English-looking rose.
Susan glanced back up to her own profile picture that was sitting quietly in the corner of the screen. How embarrassing, she thought, cringing at the bowl haircut and badger jumper. She considered taking a quick selfie and updating the image, before remembering that Felicity would have seen her picture when she’d searched for her. Susan tapped on Felicity’s friends button. Two hundred and thirty two friends. Why on earth had she felt the need to search for her, let alone add her? She moved to the timeline button, scanning over the posts and photos. Felicity Fenwick was clearly clever, popular and funny. Susan clicked play on a self-entitled ‘Me Singing’ video clip and watched with a smile as Felicity warbled her way through a unique version of Let It Go from the film Frozen, complete with dramatic arm actions and swooning facial expressions. Susan thought back to her own timeline, which was empty apart from her first three ‘I’m lost, I don’t know what to do on Facebook’ posts. She sighed to herself. Maybe social media was the way forward. Maybe if she made herself look a bit more appealing, her friendship crisis would be over.
Susan scrolled back up to the search box and was about to type in Amber’s name when her Facebook message symbol turned from white to red. This was a first. Susan clicked on the link a little too eagerly, somehow managing to hit the notifications button instead. No new notifications. Susan got herself back on track and clicked with nervous anticipation. Someone had messaged her. Someone had an important message for her, for Susan Quinn.
Quiffy Quinn? It said.
Susan felt mortified. No matter what she achieved in her life, that’s what she’d be remembered for: an upside down quiff during her gymnastics lesson back in Year Nine. Susan dropped the phone onto the bed. Wasn’t that rather rude? Messaging someone with an insult? How would Penelope Newman like it if she contacted her out of the blue saying: What’s up, crater face? Or Janine Talbot being greeted with the words: Long time, specky four eyes. Susan thought for a moment. At least Felicity hadn’t pretended to forget about the incident, just like Jenna had done. She picked up the phone and started to type. “Hello Felicity. Yes, I am the Susan Quinn you went to school with.”
The response was almost immediate. You haven’t changed a bit. How’s things? Not much on your profile.
“That’s an old picture. I’ve only just got back on Facebook. I’ll add more stuff soon. How are you?”
Split up with my long term girlfriend. Moved back to the area. Trying to find my feet again. Heard you worked at the school so thought I’d look you up. (PS: Hope you’re not too shocked by the girlfriend admission. If I’m honest I always had you down as a same-sex kind of gal, but checked your profile – it says you’re interested in men.)
Susan frowned, vaguely remembering a list of basic information she had to fill in when she first joined. She started to type. “Not been on here for six years. Lots to change. Am actually in a relationship with Jenna James.”
WHAT???
Susan smiled to herself and typed back. “What?”
THE Jenna James?
Susan attached a picture from her phone’s camera roll of her and Jenna smiling in the snow. “This Jenna James?”
Wow! You look incredible. You were right! You have changed. Take that bloody badger picture down right now and get this one up! Flipping heck! I’d never have put you two together. But you look great. You both look really happy. Is she on Facebook?
“Thank you. No, she shies away from social media. Says there are too many skeletons in the closet.”
Sounds about right. She was a naughty one!
“About as naughty as you.”
Ha! Yes! I’d love to catch up with you guys. I’ve moved into the Westbury estate opposite the Black Bear. Shall we go for drinks?
“Jenna’s actually a ski rep in France. She won’t be back until the end of April.”
Oh no, that must be tough for you. How long have you been together?
Susan thought it best to round up. “Almost a month.”
Ha! And you’re trusting her all alone for that amount of time? She MUST have changed too. I’d still like drinks with you though, if you’re around.
Susan’s banged out her reply: “I’ll check my calendar and let you know,” finding it very difficult not to add: “Nice chatting again, Fuck-Em-All Felicity.” She dropped the phone onto the bed and rubbed her face. Why did people find it so difficult to believe that Jenna could be faithful? Didn’t they think she was a big enough draw for her? Or was it Jenna’s sexual appetite that was so off the scale that it was a physical impossibility for her to go longer than five seconds without sex?
Susan nodded to herself. Jenna was her girlfriend. Jenna had made her promises. Jenna had declared her love. She picked the phone back up. There was therefore no need to search for Amber’s name and find out what Jenna had been up to. Susan sighed. She couldn’t help herself. One little peep wouldn’t matter. She started to type and clicked on the pink-haired jpeg that flashed up first, automatically scrolling to Amber’s timeline.
Susan’s stomach plunged in absolute panic. There were two pictures. Both of them tagged. The first was of Jenna, all cosy in a booth, with a blonde-haired lady. The second was still in the booth, but this time Jenna had her arm around the lady’s back, and Jenna’s hand was on her bottom. More painful though were the captions and comments. Everybody, it seemed, was placing a bet on how long it would take Jenna to succumb. Susan read and re-read. That was Jade. That was the lady who’d given Jenna her number.
Susan was frozen in panic. What should she do? What could she do? She tried to stay calm and see things from Jenna’s point of view. Maybe Jade had trapped her arm as she was reaching out for the barmaid’s attention. Maybe everyone else had nipped to the toilet. Maybe it wasn’t even her Jenna after all. Susan lifted the phone back up. It was definitely her Jenna, and her Jenna’s situation was compromising. Susan closed the Facebook app and opened her text messages. She clicked on Jenna’s name and started to type. Sorry for texting early. Just to let you know I’m feeling a bit tired. Are you still out?
****
Jenna felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out and focused on the screen. “Sorry, I just need to reply to this,” she said, quickly typing her response. Everything okay? Still out, but won’t be a late one I’m sure.
Jade was leaning over her shoulder. “You’re under the thumb, aren’t you? This Susan’s actually a secret stifle-er?”
“A stifle-er?”
“Yes, someone who stifles. You should never be in a relationship with someone who pulls you down or dampens your spirit. You need to be with someone who talks you up and enjoys your energy.”
Jenna smiled. “Trust me. Susan enjoys my energy.”
“You’re such a tease.”
“I’m not! But Susan’s great. She’s seriously great. Our relationship’s fairly new and it’s always better to reassure by replying as soon as possible.”
“That sounds like it’s coming from someone who’s learned the hard way.”
“I learn everything the hard way,” laughed Jenna, putting her phone down and taking another sip of Champagne. “But I’m trying. I’m really trying. I love Susan and I want to get this right.” Jenna paused. “She’s my world. I honestly never thought I’
d be able to say that about someone, but I can. Susan’s my absolute world.”
“But she’s not here. She’s not even close by.” Jade lifted her hands. “Isn’t this your world?” She turned her hands inwards. “Isn’t this your here and now?”
“Jade, you’re lovely, but—” Jenna lifted her phone as it vibrated once more. “Hang on.”
“Mobiles make you miss moments,” said Jade, looking up and pointing at all the people in the crowded bar. “See. There are phones everywhere. Heads are down and moments are missed.”
“I’m just replying to my girlfriend,” laughed Jenna, typing out her reply. “I’m hardly missing a monumental moment in the mountainous region of Morzine.”
“We’re in Les Gets!” Jade laughed. “See! You fiddle with your phone and your focus is fucked!”
Jenna grinned. “I’m good at focusing when I fiddle. Can we stop talking in rhymes now, and can you stop distracting me? Susan’s asked why it won’t be a late one, and if anyone’s gone home, so I need to reply, and the sooner I reply, the sooner I’ll be back in the room.”
“You said it won’t be a late one? Charming!”
“It won’t. Now let me answer her so I can tease you with another tongue twister.”
“Is that a promise?”
Jenna tapped quickly. Hugo’s gone, but Lisa and Amber are still here. Just not feeling it tonight. Jenna nodded and pressed send. “There, no moments missed. I’m back in the room, ready to relish the random—”
“Stop! Your tongue twisters are as bad as your jokes.” Jade reached for the phone and held it above her head. “You need distracting.”
“Hey,” said Jenna, looking up. “I don’t need—”
“I’m down here,” said Jade, lifting her lips onto Jenna’s.
****
“And here we have it,” said Amber, taking the final shot.
****
Susan read the message again. Lisa and Amber. No mention of Jade. She shook her head and opened the Facebook tab. Maybe they were in the background somewhere. Maybe she had missed them the first time round. She clicked back on Amber’s page and shouted out with shock as her whole world came crashing down around her: the vision of Jenna’s locked lips just too much to bear. She fumbled for her text message tab and typed through her angry tears: Feel it as much as you like, because you’re not feeling me anymore.
Chapter Nineteen
Susan closed the classroom door and began her final lesson of the day: Year Thirteen general studies. It was one of those additional A-Levels the school made everyone take to try to up their pass rate percentage. However, the fact it was ‘additional’ meant it always had the lowest lesson attendance rate, with students failing to see its value. Susan looked around the classroom. Only six or so of the twenty sixth form students had turned up, which disappointed her because she had been looking forward to teaching the lesson. In fact, she had been looking forward to teaching all of today’s lessons until the events of last night put a severe dampener on things. She took a deep breath and tried her best to sound upbeat.
“Okay ladies, thank you for turning up. Today we’re looking at behaviour and attitude. We’re going to examine how they’re formed and how they can be changed.”
“Will this be in the exam?” asked Sunny Davis from the back of the room.
Susan put on her best acting voice. “Oh dear! You’ve just reminded me, Sunny. I’ve left the syllabus in my pigeon hole in the staffroom. Would you mind nipping out and fetching it for me please?”
“Haven’t we got the syllabus already?”
“Yes, but I’ve printed off some more copies so we can highlight the elements of the course that are compulsory that will definitely come up in the exam, and those areas where you’ll have a choice of topic.”
Sunny was flicking through her folder. “Can’t we just do that with the one we’ve already got?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like you to go and pick them up, please.”
Sunny rolled her eyes and stood from her chair, slowly making her way out of the classroom. “Yes, Madam Quinn.”
Susan waited for the door to close before racing to her desk. “Okay,” she said, switching on the interactive whiteboard and opening her presentation, “we’re playing a trick.”
The girls in the class looked confused.
“I’m going to show you how easy it is to change someone’s perception. Perception’s linked to attitude and belief, and this starter activity should be a great lesson opener.”
Some of the girls sat up in their seats.
“So, when Sunny comes back in I’m going to show you these pictures.” Susan started to click through the photos on the whiteboard: some were of boxes, some were of triangles, and some were of straight lines and circles, but all of the shapes were different sizes. “I’m going to ask you to write down which is the biggest, or smallest.” She pointed up at the shapes, clearly marked with A, B, or C. “However, if I ask you for the biggest, I want you to write down the letter of the smallest, or if I ask you for the smallest I want you to write down the letter of the biggest.”
“Why?” asked Philomena from the front.
“Because it’s obvious which one’s the biggest. She’ll see the biggest. She’ll write down the biggest. However, I wonder what will happen when we go through the results and she hears all of you saying the letter B, when she’s actually written down the letter C.”
Philomena lifted her nose. “Sunny’s an A-grade student, she’s not going to fall for this.”
“Fall for what?” asked Champagne as she pushed through the door with Priggy in tow.
“Oh girls, you’re late. Sit down quickly please.”
Priggy bustled her way to the front of the room. “We didn’t know whether to come or not, but Champs thought we should just to see how you’re doing.” Priggy lowered her voice, “We’ve got a message from Jenna. She’s desperate—”
“Girls, sit down quickly. You’re going to ruin the lesson.”
Champagne tutted at Priggy. “See, I told you she’d be stressed; she’s obviously seen the pho—”
“Girls! Sit down and listen. We’re playing a trick on Sunny.” Susan refreshed the pictures on the interactive whiteboard. “I’m going to ask you questions about these shapes. I’m going to ask you to write down the letter of the biggest, the smallest, the tallest, the shortest, etcetera.” She paused to make sure Priggy and Champagne were listening. “But I want you to write down the opposite letter instead.”
“What’s the opposite of A?” asked Priggy.
“No, if I ask for the tallest I want you to actually write down the shortest.”
Champagne took her seat and turned to her friend. “She’s lost it. I told you she’d lose it, didn’t I?”
“If I ask you the smallest, you write down the biggest.”
“Why are we doing this, Madam Quinn?” said Priggy.
“Because we’re studying attitudes and beliefs, and how easy they are to change. Just stay quiet and don’t tell Sunny what I’ve asked you to—” Susan stopped as the door opened and Sunny re-entered to an eerie silence.
“Madam Llewellyn and Madam Adams were in the staffroom and neither of them could find the syllabus.”
Susan tried to act once more. She looked up to the ceiling and sucked on her bottom lip. “Deary, deary me, now where could I have put them?”
Champagne whispered under her breath. “I told you she’d lose it.”
Sunny folded her arms. “Do you want me look somewhere else?”
“No, they’re not important. We can highlight the ones you’ve got in your folder.”
“Didn’t I say—”
“Anyway, take a seat, Sunny, we’ve got lots to do.” Susan clapped her hands. “Something related to attitude and belief is perspective.” She re-opened her PowerPoint presentation. “As a little starter activity I’d like you to grab a piece of rough paper and answer the following questions.” She clicked to the first picture of t
hree different sized triangles. “No talking, please. Just write down the letter of the smallest triangle.”
Priggy scrunched up her face at Champagne. “The biggest?” she mouthed.
Champagne nodded, and glanced to the back, loving the idea she might get one up on the ever so perfect Sunny Davis.
Susan clicked through to the next picture of three different length straight lines. “Which line’s the shortest?”
The class silently jotted down their answers as they were asked for the biggest square, the tallest rectangle, and the smallest circle.
“Okay,” said Susan, turning off the whiteboard. “Let’s quickly run through the answers. Philomena, number one. The smallest triangle?”
Philomena nodded. “B.”
“Great, Champagne?”
“B.”
“Priggy?”
“B.”
Susan continued her questioning until it came to Sunny, who kept her hand on her piece of paper and said, “B.”
