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Chapter 6

Buying the Christmas card for Shaznia really felt like one of the best moments of my life. One of the most normal moments. Walking into The Card Emporium and buying your best friend a card. Simple and fun. It was a castle on a snow-topped mountain, but all the snow was pink glitter, and the message said:

Happy Sparkly Christmas Best Friend

You deserve all the glitter and joy a girl can have!

It is very reassuring for our friendship to be official and clear.

When I was in The Card Emporium buying Shaznia’s card and cinnamon scented candle I looked at all the cards for boyfriends! A whole section of cards dedicated to your boyfriend.

My gorgeous boyfriend. My sexy boyfriend. My hunky man (!!!!!!!!!).

And next to them was the Fiancé section and then it was the Husband section! And I dreamed of me sending one of these to Lynx next Christmas… And I got so excited that this could be my future one day!

Future! Future? Future? And I feel unease but then the thought of a Boyfriend, Fiancé, Husband.

What a truly wonderful order of life!

I actually skipped and let out a squeal of excitement at the thought of sending one of these cards to Lynx one day!!!! And as I walked through The Card Emporium I could see engagement cards and wedding cards and anniversaries of Silver, Gold and Ruby and then the Deepest Sympathy cards and my mood dropped. I felt really sad. Mum had to explain to me what this meant when Grandad died and we received lots of Deepest Sympathy cards.

And I thought about the order of life and how The Card Emporium sums life up.

And then I saw a very small section labelled DIVORCE. I picked one up and read

Congratulations on your Divorce (and not having to pretend you like your in-laws)

Mum doesn’t like her in-laws and I don’t think she ever pretended, so I won’t buy her this card, if they get divorced. But I’m not sure where Mum and Dad’s separation fits into all of this series of life events… I don’t see any Separation cards, so where do I fit in? Where does my cracked-up little family fit in all of this? Maybe they will get divorced and I feel bad, sad and heavy that I caused this. So many happy events and then Deepest Sympathy and Divorce. Loss. But Ruby anniversaries and weddings too!

Life is full of so many UPs and downS.

Shaznia’s card to me was Rudolph with a red, woolly bobble for his nose and she’d wrapped a pair of really cool mittens from Topshop, but the card didn’t say anything about being my friend in it.

A bomb exploded when Mr Bray announced that the surprise was the staff performing a carol concert for us in the Main Hall, lesson 2. The class roared and groaned and Mr Bray shouts,

“Quiet down 8B!”

The timetable has collapsed. Time was officially broken and defunct. Order has escaped through the fractures and cracks and now HAVOC!

I tap my face. Joe, who is sitting next to me, says,

“Meet you on the other side of this living hell.”

Living hell. He is right, and I know it’s a perfect opportunity for The Beast to hunt me down, find me and embark on a frenzied attack.

But I breathe deeply.

IN and OUT because the one good thing that comes from all this disorder, the one good thing is I get to sit next to Shaznia as our surnames start with the same letter.

PLUS

A full school assembly means seeing Lynx. Juicy-lipped, hair-gelled, sparkly eyes with a dewy complexion, Lynx.

And I cling on to the thought of seeing him.

Deep breath in.

And breathe out.

Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx

His soft cheeks and gelled hair gives me focus amongst all the glitter and chaos. Shaznia collapses and flops in the seat next to me with all her bags and coat and says,

“God I hate all this!”

Why would she hate all this? She gets to sit next to me, her friend, so I ask her and she says,

“Errrr…I hate that I have to watch old teachers sing carols badly.”

Maybe she doesn’t want to be my friend any more and the thought circles round and round my head because her card didn’t say anything about being my friend. I think about what Fiona has said about getting obsessive.

“If you are having a repetitive thought, interrupt it with a healthy positive thought. Stop them from taking over. You are in control M. You are in charge.” So I think about Bella wagging her tail and I smile to myself.

“What are you smiling at M?” asks Shaznia. “Weirdo.”

“I was just thinking about Bella.”

“Awwww. I love Bella! Can I come over and see her?”

“Sure…I’m not a weirdo,” I say. Shaznia ignores this.

“Over Christmas?”

“Yes,” I reply and I want to ask, what day? What time? But then she starts to play with my hair.

“I love your hair M.” I tolerate the discomfort, for my friendship. I really am wearing my friendship mask right now. With every stroke of my hair she is leaving her stain on me. I have to pull away. “So shiny. Have you put a colour in it?”

“Yes, it’s called Gorgeous Shimmer.”

“And your eye make-up is so pretty.”

“Oh it’s from Skylar’s Guide to Doing Christmas Right! It’s the toned-down version of smoky party eyes.”

“Will you do mine like that?”

“Sure!” I reply. “If you come and see Bella I can get all the colours and brushes ready.” And I want to know when exactly will she visit, but then she squeals,

“Yea!” And claps her hands.

“Yea!” I copy and clap my hands and I worry, what day she will visit? And I’m not a weirdo…am I?!

Mr Crane, the Head, is a tall, slow man with lots of angles and he looks a bit like some kind of bird. He is a…measured man. All his footsteps are the same distance and he wears the same shirt and tie on the same days every week. Today is Friday and he is wearing his blue shirt and a beige, checked tie. And he is not very friendly. He appears on the stage and tells us all to be quiet and everyone stops talking but it’s not quiet. Chairs scrape, teachers whisper, sick people cough…and then off-key singing begins.

The carol concert was painful but I don’t think that had anything to do with my autism. I think the teachers thought they were being young and they’re just not. I think they think acting young makes them popular. It doesn’t – they are old and we need old people. So why aren’t they just proud of that? I need older people to help me, guide and tell me what to do sometimes. Not sing a rap song, in a Christmas carol style, when I should be in double art.

Shaznia kept looking back at Lynx and his best mate Jake.

“What’s Lynx doing?” I whispered.

“Errr, he’s kind of looking over at us.”

Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx

“KIND OF! What does KIND OF mean?” I turn and he is looking. He blushes! I blush and I turn back to face the teachers ruining Silent Night. OMG! This is the first step to a steady relationship! That’s what it says in Cherry Magazine, The Flirt Issue!

Eye contact is the best way to know if he’s interested in you, and if your boy blushes this could be love!!!

The teachers do a particularly flat version of a song by some men called Simon and Garfunkel, called The Sound of Silence. Obviously writing about silence, then making a noise about it, doesn’t make sense and is confusing, but right now the most important thing is that Lynx looked at me! Maybe it was my smoky eyes that did it. Like Skylar says, Smoky eyes are a sure fire way to getting noticed by the boy you want. It works!!!!

I’m buzzing! My senses are heightened!

Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx

Eventually the singing is mercifully over and we can leave the echoing hall and headache-inducing lights. No one is in register order any more.

All the years are m=udDl-ed up and out of oerdr.

As we file out of the hall for the last time this year, I scan the room looking for Lynx. I can smell the high notes of Lynx body spray. The muddle has brought him nearer to me. Amber Jade is mixed amongst all the other deodorants and perfumes but I can identify this scent. Amber Jade.

But instead of Lynx, Joe appears by my side and is talking about how he now thinks he has permanent inner ear damage, which he closely follows up with the word “joke.” (Not funny to joke about life-debilitating medical conditions.) And I trace the Amber Jade and see Lynx talking to Shaznia! And I want to rush over and talk too but I can’t because the lights are buzzing and there are too many people in the way and I hate the way I am! I hate it! And I feel angry! Raging! Why can’t I just go up to them and be like everyone else!!! All the other pretty girls in Sevenoaks! Pretty girls who effortlessly chit-chat! And small talk.

And then he disappears…disappears into Christmas. Off to his wonderful Amber-Lynx scented world of Jade, Gold Temptation and White Peace…

Then Shaznia appears at my face,

“Are you sure you can’t come up town hun?”

She asks me this question like she has asked me earlier and she hasn’t asked me earlier. “I’ve got enough money to get you an eggnog latte.” My stomach churns.

“I have to get home,” I say. Which isn’t a complete lie, so I’m not worried about another tape worm incident, but I can’t because I know The Beast would be waiting for me in town. Pacing around the streets, sniffing me out to pounce on me and render me useless by the town fountain.

“Never mind,” she replies quickly and backs out the hall saying, “Merry Christmas M! I’ll text you over the holidays.” And all I really want to do is throw my bag over my shoulder, re-do my smoky eyes, apply some more Pink Kisses lipstick and say,

“Sure, see you up there hun.”

But I can’t.

I am not like the other girls.

Joe says he’ll walk home with me but I ask him why he doesn’t go up town with the others. If I could, I would, and he says that watching Shaznia drink an eggnog latte on a war memorial isn’t his idea of fun. I think to myself how much I’d love it because it’s about fitting in and having a choice.

Choice. That’s what I want really.

I am controlled. Controlled by anxiety and my need to be prepared for every possible outcome, but that is an impossibility…so anxiety reigns over my life.

What was Shaznia talking about to Lynx?

Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx

We walk out the school. I make up an excuse to check a notice board in the art block, so I can walk past the the coins and count:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

The half day meant I didn’t have time to do my usual 12 times check. They are reassuringly still there and that’s what I need on a half day/last day. We are walking along Vernon Road by The Money Shop.

The window display of diamond rings, gold chains and shiny watches changes a lot in The Money Shop. People sell their precious items because they can’t pay a bill, says Mum, and I think maybe they didn’t have any choice either. Maybe they had to sell their rings and chains to pay their electricity bills and I know how sad that is, and the window becomes a very sad window of second-hand jewels… And then I shudder, thinking about all the stains, all the passed-on energy in these jewels.

But I like the big M in the sign.

As we walk Joe asks why I like Shaznia so much, and I explain that she is my friend, and he says he thinks she’s a bit of a user. User. And then he asks why I call Lynx “Lynx” and I explain about Amber Jade, White Lines, Africa and all the other ranges of body spray which he wears, and he nods and asks,

“Did you get the card I gave you M?”

I did, and I recite the message on the front under the laughing snowman,

“Tis the season to be jolly!” And add, “Actually, Joe, I think ‘Tis the season to shut yourself in your bedroom and breathe deeply,’” and he says he understands that very well and he wished he had a bedroom to shut himself away and he says I’m lucky. Lucky? How! How amazing that someone thinks I am lucky! We get to my house and Joe asks to come in and watch a film but I say no.

“I could take Bella round the block for you?” he suggests.

“Err…no, Joe.”

“Is Toby about? I could say hi.”

“No,” I reply. “Toby is out. He’s at the Christmas party, at the football club.” And I am so glad he is out and I can be on my own.

“I have to go in now.” And the truth is I should be in a French lesson right now anyway, so it’s best I go in and try to cope with the displacement and broken afternoon.

“OK. Merry Christmas M. I’ll call over in the holidays,” he says as he walks up the road and I wonder when exactly. And that makes me feel edgy. Edgy. Will he call round? Or will he call me on my mobile? Will he give me warning? Maybe I should call him and tell him not to call round.

I turn the key in the door and enter my little, warm home.

The last day/half day has ended and I have made it. Term has ended and I survived!

I stand in the hall and enjoy feeling in one piece.

I can hear the fridge whirring but I feel a sense of calm and I am grateful for this moment.

Anxiety doesn’t seem to be near. Perhaps it is waiting by the war memorial for me. Coming home was definitely the right decision.

Bella waddles up to me, wagging her tail, and I kneel down and hug her. Bella is the only one I hug. Hugs and kisses. She pulls away and walks to the back door and I let her in the garden. The apple tree’s black twigs and branches are scoring the grey sky. Dark, spiky beauty, and I am settled by the cold air and the shadowy moon, which is beginning to show in the sky.

I can look at the moon for hours, sometimes. It is never stressed, even though it looks over some terrible situations. I breathe in nature’s centring strength. Constant and full of magnificent systems that connect us all, and nature’s brilliance calms me, further.

I go to my room, Bella follows and collapses on my bedside rug, and I look up USER.

User

[noun]

1. A person or thing that uses.

2. One who uses drugs, especially as an abuser or addict.

And I wonder why Joe has told me she is a user? We’re all users. I’m a user but I’m certainly not a drug addict. Drug addict?

Why would Joe say Shaznia is a drug addict?

USER USER USER

Does Shaznia use me? And I feel rotten.

I look up photos of Lynx on the school football website and I go from rotting to sweetness. Inside I feel sweet and sparkly and I just really, really love him!

Athletic! Strong! Fit! Handsome!! Muscles! Legs!!! Lynx!

Action shots!

Lynx scoring a goal! GOAL!!!!!!

Team photos!

Holding a trophy, high above his head!

Photos on the school mini bus, “Off to win at Hollingbrook High.”

Handsome, successful, juicy-lipped Lynx.

I look in the bedroom mirror and say, “All in all, M, this term was C minus.”

And now I needed to sleep and let my masks drop.

Daughter

Friend

Student

Sister

Small talker

I lie on my little bed and be Me. I think about…

Mum and Dad

Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx

Life has piled so much on top of me.

AN-Xiety

Sep- ar- ation

F r a c t u r e d t i m e

FRIENDSHIP?

Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx Lynx

Exhaustion consumes me. I could sleep through Christmas. I’d like to. Bella is already snoring.

I worry about the next two weeks of “freedom” – that’s what everyone calls school holidays – and I worry about the unfolding days and events. How time bends and expands at Christmas and routines change and disintegrate.

Disintegrate and change! And Anxiety tweaks at me but even Anxiety cannot take on sleep right now. The need to close my smoky eyes and pull my purple and grey blanket around me tightly and sleep is greater than anxiety. I am so pleased that my body allows me to drift off… It isn’t jerking with stress or racing with fear. My body is allowing me to fall into a beautiful, heavy sleep.

Christmas. Stressful and disappointment. I take to my room and avoid a Christmas sensory overload.