Free Drop by Katie Everson

bears. With gigantism.”
    “I wouldn’t have picked that wedding dress,” Sienna chips in about another story.
    “‘The happy couple released a pair of doves as a symbol of their love.’”
    “Sickening.”
    “So showy. I bet it’s just a money-making media deal.”
    “I think it’s kind of sweet,” I say, then immediately regret it.
    “Er, clearly cupid’s arrow has lodged in your brain and is pressing against some vital nerve, impeding your judgement. It’s not
sweet
. It’s OTT attention-seeking crap.”
    “It’s only a pair of doves,” Lauren says.
    “Not just the birds. All that celebrity, fakery, glitter,
look at me, I’m so amazing and
I’m so in love!
stuff. It degrades the whole marriage thing. It’s all for money and so they can hang on to their fifteen minutes for a bit longer.”
    “Maybe it’s special for them. If it’s what they’re into.”
    “I reckon in no time they’ll be cashing in on a reality show, then five minutes later it’s the divorce, and after that a six-figure dish-the-dirt book deal.”
    “You’re probably right, but I still think the doves are a nice touch.”
    Sienna opens her mouth to speak again but Lauren cuts her off.
    “Date went well then? So what happened?”
    I put a satsuma segment in my mouth and mime that I can’t possibly talk, I’m eating.
    “Come on, Carla. Spill.”
    I finish my mouthful and prepare to tell the girls about our gym session (why does that sound dirty?) when Finn strides over. Saved.
    “Excuse me, ladies. Can I borrow Carla?”
    “We’ve got Paluk in five,” Sienna objects, “and Carla was about to tell us something important.”
    “Nope, nope I wasn’t. Definitely no information to relate at all about anything.” I shrug as if to say
What you gonna do?
and the girls scowl at me.
    I walk with Finn to the corner of the room. His purple T-shirt clings to his chest. His dark hair flops into his eyes and he reaches up and pushes it back.
    “I just wanted to give you this,” he says, holding out a folded square of paper. I notice the dirt under his nails. Must be from boarding.
    “Oh … thanks,” I say. “And this is for you.” I take out my sketchbook, rip out the drawing, fold it and hand it to him. He smiles widely, touches my arm, then turns to leave.
    “Aren’t you coming to Chemistry?”
    “On time? Never.” He walks away.
    I stare at the note like it’s the freaking Holy Grail, gawking, until I realize I must look like a prize idiot. Lauren taps me on the shoulder and gives me my bag.
    “Are you going to open it?” Sienna asks.
    “Look at you,” Lauren says, then holds her hands to her chest and flutters her eyelashes jokily. “He’s so dreamy.”
    The girls look amused, but at the same time sorry for me. I flash them an icy stare.
    “Do you need to go splash your face with cold water? I’ll tell Paluk you’ve got women’s problems.”
    “No, thank you, Sienna.” I whack her on the arm. “I’m totally fine and functional. Let’s go.”
    Lauren scoffs. “Be careful, all right?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “It’s Finn Masterson,” she says, like his name is explanation enough. She looks at her watch. “Paluk O’Clock. Come on.”
    Sienna and Lauren quick-walk to the classroom, weaving through the masses, but I trail behind.
    Outside the door, I stop, lean against the wall and unfurl the note.
    Tiger,
    Meet me at my cat and mouse after school.
    66 Buckingham Road.
    You’ve stolen my strawberry tart.
    F
    The bell screeches, but I’m glued to the spot. The hairs on my body seem to stand on end, and for a second I feel like I’m rebooting, a surge of energy bursting from the core of my chest, through my veins to the tips of my fingers, toes and hair.
    “Carla, are you joining us or planning to take notes from outside?” Paluk booms. He’s wearing an oversized blood-red shirt; beige trousers flap around his bamboo-thin legs.
    “Sorry, sir.” Paluk moves aside as I pass. All eyes focus