Chapter 3: Choosing your path.
The group of five friends sauntered towards Our Lady Immaculate College with a sense of unity. With the knowledge of Marco's hopes of Belfast college coming to non-fulfilment still fresh in their minds, they walked a little closer to each other then usual. Without saying anything, each of them hoped that their friendship would remain strong enough to overcome life's obstacles. Orla gripped Erin's hand, and the petite Derry girl placed her head on Orla's shoulder, offering her comfort. Erin's other hand gripped James's hand, their fingers intertwined. As the five entered the hall for morning assembly, Orla picked out the cold stare that Shannon was giving her. But Orla was unfazed and shot her own cold stare back at her, as did Michelle and Erin.
"For the love of God, girls, don't be starting a riot before assembly, I'm not exactly in the mood to go west side story this morning, if it's all the same to yous." Clare began to panic, as usual.
"Pipe down, Clare. We aren't starting anything." Erin said.
"If that bitch wants to start, I got no problems finishing what Orla started." Michelle grimaced.
"Girls, please. This isn't gonna solve anything." James pleaded.
"Shut up, dickweed." Michelle snapped.
"You lose something over here Shannon?!" Orla called.
"Orla, don't!" Clare pleaded.
"It isn't over McCool!" Shannon scowled.
"Ready when you are!" Orla shot back; her eyes were like wild animals.
Just then, Sister Michael made her way through the hall towards the front. The two rivals broke their glare on each other, not wanting Sister Michael to catch the increasing turbulence that existed between them. Jenny Joyce and Aisling took their usual spot of raucously ruining another song; this time it was Boyz to Men-End of the road. Miss Mooney could see that Sister Michael was exceptionally short with her this morning. While the assembly stared in awe and distain at Jenny's incredible ability to butcher yet another song, Miss Mooney leaned towards Sister Michael.
"Put this one on the list?" Miss Mooney asked with a whisper.
"Do I really have to ask?" Sister Michael replied.
"Is that a No then?" Miss Mooney quipped.
"I belong to yoouuuuuuuuuuu!" Jenny squealed.
"Sweet suffering Jesus! Put it on the damn list!" Sister Michael sighed angrily, she stood up and took centre stage.
"Thank you, girls! All I can say is thank God we've come to the end of this road! Now I shall keep it short. From today; There will be an appointment list for the upper years on the main notice board with the career's advisor. The only thing I will say is if you have not yet decided what to do with your future careers, abandon all hope from this point on. The careers advisor is not going to simply grant you an easy life with promises of fame and or fortune, she is a career's advisor, NOT a genie of the lamp."
"Well, there goes my fucking hopes." Michelle quipped quietly.
"But for those of you who are uncertain or are in need of some true guidance in choosing your career path, please be rest assured, the careers advisor honestly won't give a shite." The Nun concluded with the morning prayer.
Despite the hostile warning from Sister Michael, Clare was surprisingly relaxed as the five met after their morning class for break. Erin was braiding Orla's hair as she sat eating a curly whirly. James came along and sat next to her, handing packets of taytos out to the group.
"Cheese and onion ok? That's all there was." James said. The girls took the taytos without thanks.
"That's alright, James. I don't really want taytos,." Orla said, waving the curly whirly like a magic wand.
"That's alright, I'll have them." James replied.
"So… have any of ya given any thought for when ya go and see the careers advisor?" Erin asked the group.
"Well, you know what I want to do." James said.
"Aye, you wanna get into Films." Erin answered ironically.
"And you're either looking at getting into media, or journalism, or being a famous writer?" James listed.
"Aye, one or two things. So, ya do pay attention?" Erin quipped.
"Yeah, in lots of ways." James quipped back, smiling. Erin raised her eyebrows alluringly and smiled at James's blush as she finished Orla's braiding. Michelle rolled her eyes.
"What about you, Orla?" Erin asked.
"I don't have any idea yet." Orla answered while she wrote something in her notepad.
"I was thinking possibly about going into law. Maybe become a barrister?" Clare said.
"Yeah, I think that suits you, Clare." James remarked.
"Well, if it's all the same to yous, I ain't gonna have some stuck-up bitch telling me what I'm gonna be doing for the rest of MY life. Fuck that shit!"
"Do ye not know what ya want to do either, Michelle?" Orla looked up from her notepad.
"Aye, I've got an idea." Michelle replied.
"What's that?" Clare asked.
"…. DJing." The answer came, after a short pause.
"What, like Fat Boy Slim?" James queried with surprise.
"Aye!"
"Catch yourself on, Michelle! Ye don't know how to DJ!" Erin said, chuckling slightly.
"Uh! For your information, I do, actually!" Michelle shot back.
"Really? Where did you learn?" James asked.
"Well, I've only just gotten into it, but since you asked, from the lad I met at Jenny's party, Jason!" Michelle said.
"You mean the fella you were snogging in the coat room?" Orla asked.
"Aye… I've sort of… met up with him a few times, he's got a set of decks, and he showed me how it's done." Michelle said.
"Ach, I bet he did." Erin quipped, sensing an innuendo coming.
"No, its not like that, Erin!"
"Come on Michelle, I'm not even buying that!" James smirked.
"Well, I'm not gonna tell my pervy English prick of a cousin what I get up to with a fella, now am I?" Michelle snapped.
"That's a surprise!" James said quietly.
"I've seen the enjoyment he gets just from mixing tunes and feeling the pulse running through his veins…. he says when he does it in front of an audience, seeing all those people get up and all that… that… energy! All from his music! Fuck that must be cracker to do that every night!" Michelle exclaimed.
"So, that's what you're gonna do, Michelle? Ye not gonna get something behind ya?" Erin queried.
"Aye, Erin has a point, Michelle. Ye need to have something to fall back on, just in case, ya know… it doesn't work out. This is gonna be your best chance from a career point of view, otherwise… you might find yourself struggling for money, and then ye might get stuck in a job ya hate, and then you'll…" Clare's depressing diatribe was then cut off.
"Alright Clare! For fucks sake, she can sure paint a picture, can't she?" Michelle moaned.
"Aye, she does so." Orla agreed, her eyes drifting off somewhere else.
"I think what Clare is saying, is it wouldn't hurt to check out what the career's advisor says, Michelle." James said.
"Alright, fine! I'll see what she says. Come on, we need to shift. See you two at lunch." Michelle got up.
The gang started to gather themselves. As Erin, Clare, and Michelle went one way for French, James and Orla were still getting their things together as they had maths together. James had spotted Orla making notes during the group discussion. As they walked together, James's curiosity got the better of him.
"Saw you writing something earlier, Orla?" James asked.
"Aye. Just something from a magazine." Orla replied.
"Yeah, what about?"
"It was about compatibility."
"What? You mean, like, boyfriend and girlfriend type questions?"
"Aye, but from what I read, they were crap questions." Orla shrugged.
"So, what were you writing?"
"I was thinking of better questions to ask."
"Oh! Gonna put them to Marco at some point, are you?" James asked, grinning.
"Aye. We try to find different things to talk about when he rings."
James smiled at Orla's cheerfulness. He always admired how she put on a cheerful front, even when things were bad. He remembered how upset she had been the day before when she found out about Marco not getting into Belfast college, yet she was still as undeterred as she always was. Orla smiled back warmly at her friend.
"James?"
"Yeah?"
"I didn't get a chance to say thanks for earlier this morning."
"What for?"
"For the hug when I was chatting to Marco. It's the nearest thing I can get to the real thing from him."
"That's alright. Anytime."
Orla shoulder shrugged James as they smiled at each other. The two friends aways valued their support for each other, always seeing themselves as the outsiders of the group, and now they had a mutual connection with Marco, their bond was more special. The end of the school day came soon enough. Orla now made her way towards the detention room. She had managed to go through the day without the misfortune of running into Shannon, but now she would have to sit in the same room as her for the next hour again. She entered the room and found that only Sister Michael was there. Orla was bang on time, but there was no sign of Shannon.
"Take a seat Orla, I want this to be over and be as hassle free as possible."
"Ach, you need to be somewhere, Sister?"
"No but being anywhere else is better than being here." The Nun quipped.
Orla crocked an eyebrow in awe of the quip, as she turned and took her seat, she pulled out her notepad and she began thinking. She was looking forward to finish writing up her remaining questions for Marco. She knew they wouldn't speak until the weekend, which gave her the time she needed. Meanwhile, Sister Michael had looked up at the clock and saw that Shannon was already 5 minutes late. She didn't recall seeing her throughout that day.
"Have you seen Shannon today, Orla?" The Nun asked curiously.
"She was in school today, so she was, Sister." Orla answered.
Sister Michael glanced at the clock for a second time. She was not a patient woman by any means but chose to play it cool. After a short while, she looked at the clock again; 4:12pm, becoming more agitated with the blatant disregard for her authority shown by Shannon. She stewed in her chair. The ticking clock seemed to ring louder in her ear with each second that went by. She looked a third time, 4:16pm. The Nun then slammed her book shut and wrote a note. She then began to gather herself. As she got up, she called Orla to her desk.
"Orla. You can make it up another day. But for now, you can go home." Sister Michael said, sliding her an exempt note.
"Are ye sure, sister?" Orla smiled.
"You heard. Go home. That girl's backside is mine." Sister Michael whispered as she shot out of the door.
Orla chirped happily at her change of fortune. She rustled her stuff in her bag and started off for home. As she walked out of the school gate; Orla was unaware that Shannon, along with a hooded older male were watching her from a distance. But Orla was oblivious to everything as she skipped and bopped home to her Walkman playing.
"She the one who gave ya the black eye?" The man said.
"Aye, that's her, so it is." Shannon replied.
"McCool, is it? And, she's dating an English, so ye say?"
"Aye, that she is, retarded little slapper." Shannon scowled. The hooded man grimaced angrily.
Orla walked into Erin's house to find Erin and James cosied up on the sofa doing their homework. Orla tapped her fingers on their heads to say hello. The couple looked up, astounded to see Orla home so soon. She then walked into the kitchen to find Sarah sitting at the table with Mary and Joe.
"Hi Mammy, I'm home."
"Ach, hello love." Sarah said.
"Orla? How come ya home so early?" Mary asked. Erin and James tilted their heads towards the kitchen.
"Well, they do have to come home after school, Mary. That's why they call it home time." Sarah stated.
"Not when they're supposed to be in detention, Sarah." Mary replied.
"Aye, Sister Michael sent me home early."
"Ya don't get sent home early from detention, Orla." Mary stated.
"Did ye skip detention love?" Sarah asked. Her voice raising slightly.
"No, I promise. She did." Orla said, holding Sister Michael's note in her hand. Erin and James watched with intent.
"OI. You two in there. Did ye not say she had a week's detention for that scrap she was in?" Joe called to Erin.
"Aye, she did Granda?" Erin said.
"So why is she home so early?" Sarah asked. Erin gawked in disbelief; it was as if they were being blamed for Orla coming home so early. James calmly walked over and read Orla's note.
"Mrs McCool?" James said.
"Ach, aye James?"
"I think Orla wanted you to see this." He said, handing her the note.
Sarah surveyed the note, confirming Orla's side. Mary and Joe took turns in reading the note. Orla stood quietly; her eyes were staring at the ceiling as we awaited their response. The parents calmed and Orla and James joined Erin on the sofa. Erin shot a smile at Orla as she wrapped her arm back around James.
"Thanks James." Orla said.
"No worries." James smiled. Orla then turned and smiled broadly.
"What, Orla?" Erin asked softly, seeing her cousin's smile.
"Nothing, it's just…. That's what Marco always says…. No worries." Orla answered.
"Ach, Orla. I almost forgot. There was some post for ya this morning. It's in the hallway" Sarah called.
"Thanks Mammy." Orla shot up and raced to see what it was, leaving Erin to regard her wee English fella.
"What?" James asked, feeling slightly embarrassed.
"It's just real class when ye speak up for Orla." Erin said affectionately, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.
"Aye. He's like my big brother." Orla said cheerfully to Erin, bouncing a sketch pad off James's head.
"Ow! And Thanks." James remarked.
"What's that Orla?" Erin asked as Orla sat with excitement.
Orla's eyes widened as she gawked in amazement as she opened the sketch pad. James and Erin leaned in, sharing the same astonishment as Orla shifted the sketch pad closer to them. She slowly turned the pages that were filled with pencil sketches of animals, hands, innate objects, and face portraits of them all. All drawn with ink and pencil. Portraits of all five friends were scattered amongst the pages, along with some caricatures. Orla smiled happily as she scanned each page. Erin and James laughed and commented on what they saw.
"This is Marco's sketch pad, isn't it, hi?" Erin asked.
"Yeah, it is." James smiled.
"I had no idea!" Orla gasped.
"I DID say he was a good drawer."
"So ye did, James." Erin said.
"By Christ! Is that me?" Joe asked, suddenly appearing from behind the sofa.
"Couldn't be anyone else, Joe!" James laughed.
They all laughed at the caricature showing Joe shouting the word "PRICK!" in a speech bubble with a vainy head, and an angry expression.
"That's nothing, Granda. Look at this one." Orla turned the page back to a shaded pencil sketch of Joe's face. Erin turned and caught Joe's reaction; a broad smile came across the McCool patriarch.
"My God. That lad's got some skills." Joe remarked.
"Aye. He does so." Orla said warmly, looking at a pencil sketch Marco had done of herself, asleep, with the words "Angels do exist" Underneath. Orla blushed.