19th

"So when you're cold from the inside out and don't know what to do, remember love and friendship, and warmth will come to you." - Stephen Cosgrove.

"IT'S FRIDAY!"

"Jay, I could not care less what day it is; why are you waking me up like this?" I grumble, in a bad mood before I've even opened my eyes.

When I do finally force them open, the first thing I see is my older brother looming (already in his coat) over me, shortly followed by the digits on my alarm clock showing I have precisely seven minutes to get entirely ready if I have any hopes of getting to school on time. Suffice to say, my mood doesn't exactly improve.

I throw off my covers, gritting my teeth against the sudden rush of cold, and travel all the way across the hall into the bathroom in approximately half a second. My toothbrush hangs limply from my mouth as I splash my face with icy water.

"Why are you hovering around me?" I question Jay as I duck behind my wardrobe and change out of my pyjamas into my (albeit crumpled) school uniform with impressive speed. "Also, why are you in a good mood? Last night you were being super moody about your car breaking down."

"Because it's Friday," Jay answers, as if it will satisfy my curiosity. I roll my eyes, pushing him out of the way in order to grab my shoes.

"Yeah, there's fifty two of them a year and you're not this chipper on the rest of them."

A glance at my phone tells me that if I can get to the bus stop in one minute, I'll just about make it on time.

"True," says Jay from behind me as we race up the road, dodging puddles left by last night's sleet. "But I just have a feeling today will be a really good day at college, y'know?"

I have to hold back from replying as I spot the bus ahead of us and launch into a full power sprint towards it, waving my arm out like a madwoman. Thankfully, it slows to a halt and the door slides open. I can barely pant out my destination as I pay the fee and collect my ticket. It takes a few minutes for me to catch my breath enough to speak, even once we're relaxed at the back of the bus.

Jay is sat beside me, fiddling with his phone and feigning complete innocence. I narrow my eyes at him. "You're skipping college today, aren't you?"

"What? No! What?!" he retorts, but the bad lying is hereditary and I can see right through it.

"Jay Moore, I cannot believe you're skiving." It's not a shock, really. He was constantly getting into trouble for this when he was my age.

This sparks a verbal fight over his immorality, immaturity and, most importantly, the fact Mum will totally flip if she finds out. The few other passengers on the bus barely glance at the bickering siblings in the corner. Eventually, we come to the conclusion that Mum will definitely go mad if she finds out that Jay has slipped back into his old habits, therefore we must form a sibling pact to not tell her, so long as Jay gives me a lift to school every morning I want until Easter, starting tomorrow when his car is back from the garage.

But the agreement we form at the end of the spat doesn't matter; I forget it instantly when I glance out of the bus window for the first time since getting on and realise I've missed my stop. I curse under my breath, standing up and jabbing Jay's shoulder.

"We just missed our stop, you... nipple!" I exclaim, quickly reverting to PG rated language when I spot a primary school kid out of the corner of my eye. Or at least, like, PG-13 rated language. Jay is already cackling.

"Nipple?" he retorts, but I just thump his shoulder again, harder this time. He shuts up and looks out the window, biting back hysterics.

"Shut up, are you getting off or not?" I question as the bus brakes at the next stop.

Jay shakes his head, "Nah, I'm carrying on all the way into town, I'm being 'atrociously immoral' by skipping today, remember?"

I scowl as I leave him and get off the bus, flashing him my middle finger as I pass the window he's sat by. I'm reminded of Simon, and in turn Ed, and then Imogen. Oh.

❅

Despite struggling as fast as I can up a hill back towards the stop I'd missed, and my school, I still end up arriving after the registration bell has rung. I don't realise this until my teacher, Mrs Bird, informs me sourly.

"Miss Moore, you're late. And not for the first time," she says cooly. "Fifteen minutes of detention for you this lunchtime."

Honestly believing until that moment that I'd managed to get in in the nick of time, I can't help my outburst of "Oh, Jesus Christ!"

It's only under my breath, and half muffled by the sound of my taking off my coat, but Mrs Bird still manages to catch it. Watery grey eyes glare at me over the top of steel-rimmed glasses. "Another fifteen minutes for bad language; I hope you're looking forward to spending half of your lunch break in the detention room."

It's all I can do not to scoff back some sarcastic remark, but I know that won't do me any favours, so I just subtly roll my eyes as I slip into my seat. At least I've managed to avoid the awkward, unstructured, friendless time before registration starts.

I try to catch Imogen's eye from across the room, but she's looking down, hidden by a sheet of dark hair, for the rest of registration.

At break, I spend the fifteen minutes at my locker, where I see James. He's got a festive patterned beanie atop his scruffy hair, and a grin on his face.

"Hey," I say with a smile. At least he's not avoiding me. "Nice hat, by the way."

He laughs, "Thanks, it was so cold this morning I felt like it was time to get it out."

I'm thinking about how thankful I am that he hasn't mentioned Imogen when I open my locker. Instantly, I spot the parcel wrapped in the familiar Christmas wrapping paper. My stomach flutters; I hope James hasn't noticed. Before I open it, I glance across and see that his gaze is focused elsewhere. My eyes follow his and see what he's looking at - or rather, who.

Imogen is walking alongside Kayleigh, but they're not acting as pally as before. Well, Kayleigh is, but Immy's just nodding. Then, the weirdest thing happens as James smiles and gives a tiny wave in her direction and her solemn expression breaks into a grin and she waves back.

Either she doesn't see me, or she chooses to be completely oblivious to my presence.

Regardless, James' cheeks are now pink and he's definitely too distracted to properly sort through his books.

I take the opportunity to tear open the wrapping paper, unable to slow my skittish heartbeat. My fingers touch soft wool and it takes a moment for my to recognise just what my latest gift is. Slipper socks, in a similar type pattern to James' beanie. There's a note attached, which I rush to unfold and read.

Scarlett,
Just in case you get cold feet.
Love, your Secret Santa x

I feel as though that's a hidden pun, too, but my scattered brain can't make sense of it. No doubt I'll spend another night pondering over it until the early hours.

❅

Lunch rolls around all too quickly and I drag myself into the detention room. I'm a couple of minutes early; the only others in the room are half a dozen people in the years below me. The teacher hasn't even arrived.

Sighing, I take a seat near the back after grabbing a piece of paper and a pen for writing lines. I have no idea how Jay stood having detention almost every week.

The door creaks as it opens and I peer over my shoulder, expecting to see whichever unlucky teacher is spending their lunch break on detention duty. But that's not who it is. Instead, it's someone worse.

Imogen avoids eye contact as she collects her paper and pen, but then walks to the back of the room and sits down next to me. I feel incredibly awkward, especially when I remember the promise I'd made to myself in the cold and wet on the walk home last night. Whatever it takes, I have to force myself to make amends.

When I risk a glance towards her, I discover that she's staring at me. My eyes meet hers, but they're not cold, or bitter, or angry; instead, they're just... Immy.

"Hi," she whispers, despite the fact the general chatter of other students easily drowns out our words.

"Hey."

"How are you?" she asks. What am I supposed to say to that? Do I just act fine? No, I told myself I'd make up with her, so I will.

"Um, cold. Bored. Hungry. You?" Immy giggles a little and I take it as a good sign.

"Same here," she says, then any trace of a smile slips away. "Also... lonely."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

A silence rushes into the space between us, and I know I ought to fill it. "Listen, Immy, I'm sorry about the stuff I said the other day. I was a total bitch."

Immy shakes her head, "No. I did stuff wrong too; you deserve to have a private life, no matter how much my curiosity doesn't want you to. I guess I just like being a part of your life too much that I get a little disappointed when I can't be involved in your whole life."

"So, can we forgive each other?" I ask, hopeful.

"Of course - my parents said I can have someone over for a sleepover this weekend and I can't bear another minute with Kayleigh, let alone an entire night."

I laugh, and she laughs, and suddenly we're both giggling ridiculously. We're interupted by the teacher finally arriving, hissing at everyone to be quiet and get on with copying out the school rules.

The following half hour drags on endlessly. Repeatedly I look up at the clock to ser the minute hand has barely moved. Next to me Immy sighs, tucking her hair behind her ear then sighing once again when it slips back into her eyes. She looks as though she'd rather be anywhere but here.

Come to think of it, I've only known her to land herself in detention once, because she deemed socialising more important than a History essay.

"So," I begin as we head back to the form room once detention has finally ended. "Why do you even have detention today? It's not like you."

"I didn't go to Physics in second period," Immy answers casually.

"Any particular reason why you did that...?"

"Well, I knew you had detention, and I figured that would be the best chance I had to talk to you, since Kayleigh has taken to shadowing me, so I thought I may as well just skip a class," she explains, smiling a little. "Plus, I mean it's Physics."

❅

The afternoon lessons pass just as monotonously as the morning's, and the next time I see Immy is on the bus home.

"Hey," I say, plonking myself down onto the seat next to her.

As I shove my satchel on the floor at my feet, I feel my phone buzz in my coat pocket. I pull it out and see a text from Ed pop up on the screen.

From: Ed Kearney

I was just talking to Si & he said how much he liked meeting you. We'll have to do it again sometime soon - free this weekend? x

To: Ed Kearney

sorry I'm sleeping over at immy's but yes definitely meet up again soon! x

"Who are you texting?"

Imogen's voice startles me. I shrug, "Just Ed."

A flicker of something - excitement? betrayal? it's impossible to tell - shows in her expression, but then she smiles and it's gone. "Look at you being friends with populars now."

"Yeah, whatever," I reply absently.

Her comment reminds me how much she cares about popularity, and how much I need to explain the whole truth of why I really don't.

some big stuff coming up next chapter omg i can't wait for you to read it!
as always, votes and comments are appreciated - any more ideas on who the secret santa could be? i love seeing your guesses because it lets me know if i'm making it too obvious haha
thanks for reading and i hope you're feeling festive because i totally am - ella x