Siena and Robert hanging crookedly on the wall.
âOkay,â she says speaking to the Siena in the painting rather than the real-life one behind her. âYou want to start again, then we start again.â And she takes her cigarette and stubs it out on Robertâs forehead.
We stare at her in stunned silence.
âItâs time to go home,â she says, her tone softer than I think Iâve ever heard it. And with arms that seem able to reach around all of us, she herds us back to the car.
March 1987
Chapter 4
âI can make my own way to the cafeteria,â I say, finding Felicia waiting for me as I exit my last class before lunch. She has the demeanour of a Meerkat; all tiptoes and nose, like sheâs breathing the air waiting to get my scent.
âItâs no trouble. I finished my last class an hour ago.â
We start to walk, her slightly in front, looking back regularly to make sure I am still following. I think maybe she would feel safer if I just let her hold my hand.
âYour last class?â I say after a while.
âUh-huh. Tuesdays are my short day. Well, technically, I donât have to be here at all. Itâs just an optional lecture.â
âWait a minute. You drive me here every Tuesday and you donât even have classes to go to?â
She smiles. âLike I said. Itâs no problem.â
âWhat do you do all day?â I say, aghast that someone could volunteer to spend time here.
She hugs her handbag to her chest and her ponytail bounces behind her as she strides. She is so preppy. The only thing missing is a pink sweater tied around her shoulders. âI go tothe library. I read, make notes.â
âBut itâs your day off.â
âSure,â she laughs. âBut how else am I going to keep up with all my assignments. I have a three thousand word essay to hand in next week.â
âAre you serious? Semester only started a few weeks ago.â
âDonât you have any assignments due soon?â
âOh sure,â I say, patting my backpack. âBut theyâre just little ones. I have it all under control.â
âGod, youâre good. You might have to give me some tips on being organised. Iâm always struggling to get things in on time. No matter how early I start them.â
I smile and keep walking but inside my guts are beginning to twist. Truth is I havenât looked at any of my handouts since I stuffed them into my backpack. Somewhere in there are details of assignments, readings and activities that I have been completely avoiding.
âJust out of curiosity, Felicia. Where is the library?â
She stops walking and thrusts her arm out so that I walk into it. âAre you kidding me? Youâve been here four weeks!â
âDonât freak,â I say, looking down at my feet because, frankly, I am starting to freak. âI just havenât needed it yet.â And that feels true to say because, really, I wouldnât know if I had.
Felicia begins to drag me forcefully down the path.
âHang on a minute!â I say, but she does not let go of her grip or reduce her speed. âWhere are you taking me?â
âI canât believe you havenât been to the library yet!â she says, with a tone that reminds me of Via. âHow have you been getting your readings?â
âMy readings?â
She looks at me exasperated. âYour readings, Mira. Every tutorial has weekly readings, and they are kept in the library. Either they have introduced some radical new protocol that exempts Bachelor of Education students from having to do what every other student on campus does, or you havenât been doing any work.â
I cringe at this last word.
âAll right, Felicia,â I say, trying to pull my arm from her grip. âI am coming with you. Just let go of my hand.â She stops, loosens her grip without letting go. Her expression is angry, like my