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‘Anyone got any scrap paper I can burn?’ I call out.
People pat their pockets. ‘No, sorry. Nope.’
Fran runs to her tent and comes back with an A4 printout. ‘Exam timetable!’ She does a joyous dance as she waves it in my face. ‘Yesterday was my last one! Let the non-stop partying continue!’ She opens her can with a flourish.
‘Hey, I’ve still got my higher maths to come.’ Ben shakes his head, like in mock worry, but you know it is actually real.
‘Come on then, I’ll practice you.’ Jarvis taunts. ‘Pi to fifty digits.’
‘Oh please!’ Emily sticks her nose in the air.
But they’re off, Jarvis and Ben replaying their famous Pi fight with Fran egging them on. Was there really a time when this was my world? It wasn’t even that long ago.
‘…932384,’ Jarvis is already about twenty digits in. ‘What’s next, Ben, for your A in maths?’
‘I have absolutely no idea, mate.’
‘Aw, you’ll just have to join us wastrels,’ Jarvis smirks.
‘Oh, as if!’ Emily says. ‘Ben will get straight A Stars for sure, and Fran’s gonna hit the grades for her design course.’
‘Celebrations all round!’ Jarvis lifts his can. ‘Even I’m going to Off The Record studios in the autumn.’
‘Are you?’ I say, looking round at the others to share my disbelief.
‘Apprenticeship in sound engineering.’
‘Fuck, Wasteman?’ I say. Jarvis has earned his nickname with serious levels of inactivity. ‘I’ll be the lone stoner!’ I light Fran’s exam timetable and stuff it under the twigs.
‘It’ll just be me and you then, Geth,’ Emily says as I give the flame a blow. ‘Without a future.’
I feel the dead weight of her words and remember how I was also blamed for her dropping out of college. The fire whips through the paper and fizzles out. I sit back on my heels, head drooped useless. Listen to the cackle of a bird in the trees.
‘Here, use this.’ Ben pulls a Metro out of his bag. ‘Forgot I had it.’
‘Ah, did you see that about Selena Gomez’s boob job?’ Emily starts them on a load of celebrity gossip drivel.
I tear out a page with a picture of a couple of dusty boys scrabbling about in burnt-out ruins in Gaza.
‘Is she going out with Justin Bieber or not now?’ Fran carries on.
‘As if any of that bollocks is news,’ I say. ‘Does even one of you have a clue about Gaza, for instance?’ I scrunch up the picture, shove it under the twigs, light the paper.
‘They will blow each other to fuck whatever.’ Jarvis pulls his call-me-stupid look.
‘Well, that does seem the way in the Middle East,’ Emily adds.
‘If you knew what a bunch of ignorant fuckeroos you all sound…?’ I chuck some more twigs on the fire as the flames flicker through. ‘Back me up, Ben?’
‘I’m with you all the way, mate.’ Ben does care at least. Not surprisingly, his dad being an Iranian refugee. He takes a breath, holding his shoulders tense. ‘But I guess the guys are taking a holiday today, so…?’
‘Yeah, take a break from Negative?’ Francesca lowers her face with a pleading smile.
I feel bad instantly, Fran has just finished her exams. Negative is practically my middle name with this crowd. Still, I resent having to listen to such thoughtless crap, and then having to feel bad about it.
I feed the fire some bigger sticks. Get my face to the ground and blow; hear the crackle of the spreading flames.
‘Hot Breath Geth,’ Ben says eventually.
