Free Paper Aeroplanes by Dawn O'Porter

France.
    ‘Look, I don’t steal stuff usually, it’s just those.’ I point at the pile of pads on her desk. ‘I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.’
    ‘Well, your regret seems genuine, so we’re done here,’ says Miss Grut. ‘Mr Fletcher, maybe Mrs Fletcher can help Renée in the shop next time she has a period?’ I wince, but Miss Grut continues. ‘I’m sure your situation makes all sorts of conversations very hard, but as Renée turns into a woman she’ll need your help on matters like this. Renée, I will let this go this time, but please don’t let us catch you doing this again. Thank you, everybody.’
    Pop and I are up and out the door as quickly as we can. I walk him to the foyer.
    ‘Pop. I’m really sorry,’ I say, so embarrassed I can barely get my words out.
    ‘I will speak to your grandmother and she will take this from here. Don’t be late for dinner.’ Pop makes it very clear that the subject is closed. As I watch him walk away I feel like I don’t know him at all. He’s just a stranger who knows I am on my period.
    I feel a hand on my shoulder.
    ‘Renée?’ It’s Miss Anthony. ‘I used to be the same when I was your age. Here.’ She hands me a cotton pouch. ‘Have these. Do try to build the confidence to buy your own, but this should get you through this month.’ She smiles. ‘Now take a minute to get yourself together and then get to class. You can still make the last half-hour of drama and I’ll make sure you don’t get an order mark.’
    ‘Thank you. That’s really nice of you.’ I start to walk away, but Miss Anthony puts a hand on my arm.
    ‘Renée, I lost my mother when I was young, too. I know how lonely it can feel.’
    ‘I’m not lonely, Miss Anthony. I have lots of friends,’ I answer defensively.
    ‘Are they good friends? People you can talk to? It’s really important to talk about how you feel.’
    ‘Of course.’ I nod. ‘Best friends. We talk about it all the time.’
    ‘Good, good. I am glad,’ she says, looking pleased.
    Later, in the afternoon, Miss Grut comes into our French class unexpectedly. Everyone stands up, but she tells us to sit straight down. Assuming she has changed her mind and is here to punish me for theft I start to pack up my pencil case, but instead she walks over to Flo Parrot and asks her to follow her downstairs.
    I have only ever seen that happen once at school before. When I was seven years old.

3
When the Worst Thing Happens
Renée
    I wake up feeling strange. This November has been particularly glum. I’ve got soaked on the way to school most mornings, but still I choose to walk instead of getting a lift with Pop and Nell. I often wonder, are things so uncomfortable between us that I should really have to deal with wet socks for most of the day at school? And I always conclude yes. Besides, despite watching me take the sandwiches I have made out of the fridge every morning (I’ve made my own lunch ever since I opened my lunch box one day to discover Nana had made me baked bean sandwiches) no one ever suggests I should get in the car. I am independent from this home. I live here and get involved in the necessary elements of cohabiting – eating, using the bathroom, watching the occasional TV show – but apart from that it is them, and me. I can never be quite sure how or why this has happened. I certainly didn’t mean it to. I am so pleased I have Mum’s drawer to keep me going, but today I find myself struggling more than usual to close it.
    I don’t believe in God, and I don’t believe in heaven, but I can’t believe that she is gone. It would be easier if when people die we are able to forget about them, but it doesn’t seem to work that way. What I find hardest is that my memories are getting fuzzier, but not so distant that I can let them go. I’m sure I used to remember the sound of her voice, but now I can’t. I just see her in my head, but there’s no sound any more when I close my eyes. My dreams have