Made Up Friends

A blur of blonde. There were so many of those sun strings, that they formed a curly, organised mess on her head.

Her laugh. Oh my god, the laugh. It made me want to follow her around, my eyes drilling into this bush of hay coloured hair.

If she was only facing me... If I could only see her sad, blue eyes that I knew were there, only then I could be at peace.

She turned around playfully, her face towards me. Yet I saw no eyes, in her hazy silhouette.

Instead of being rightfully worried, I reached out to touch that freakish face of her's, before realising she was miles away from me, and I was looking at her through Galileo's telescope. If she was truly so far away, how could I hear her so clearly?

"Nick..? Nick. ~~~"

"...Nick. Nick!" The voice of my music teacher, Ms Harrington, ripped me right out of my slumber. I looked around, confused. The whole class was staring at me, some individuals amused, waiting for me to speak.

"Yes, Miss?" I made sure my voice was loud and clear, taking my chances to sound like I wasn't just sleeping in class, and like if I was conscious of my surroundings. Ms Harrington shook her arms in disappointment.

"I asked you a question." She lowered her face, thus looking more strict and dangerous, a trick teachers liked to pull off.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat please?" I responded, almost mechanically. She sighed.

"How can you describe the style of singing in this movement of Bach's Cantata?" Most of the people in class were now looking at their desks, the humorous thrill of their classmate being caught sleeping was long gone.

"Wh... Which movement is that, Miss?" I stammered lightly.

"The one we just listened to." She leaned back on her desk, looking at the clock above the door.

"It's the bass aria." I heard a whisper in my ear. Gabriel used the moment she was looking away to help me out.

"It was mostly melismatic." I said quickly.

"Will you pay more attention in class, Nick?" She said, and I felt that I just got treated unfairly. I knew I answered the question right, but I nodded back to my teacher, knowing better than to start an argument.

"I'd also like to see you after class." The whole class looked at me again, as she walked back to her computer. "It's unrelated."

Chatter quickly filled the room, as I fell back onto the desk, knowing better than to fall asleep again. I wondered what it was Ms Harrington wanted. I still wasn't able to play anything for the practicals, and I was expecting that to be the case, but I could be mistaken.

"What's wrong?" Gabriel asked me, packing his pencil case to his schoolbag.

"Nothing. Everyone keeps asking me this." I said, a little too sharply, pushing my thoughts away, along with my very real dream of a girl. I looked into his face. "And I think the bass aria helped put me to sleep." The Brazilian guy was as tired as I was, and also just wanted to return home. Thankfully we only had resource class after music, and we were free.

"I'm sorry. I'm just tired, I guess. Oh, and thanks for saving my ass there." I continued, knowing that if I didn't answer right, Ms Harrington's reaction would have been a lot worse.

"Well, when you gotta go you gotta go." I wasn't sure what he meant, but I happily accepted his randomness.

We put our chairs on the tables, as there were no more classes taking place in the music room that day. I was eager to exit the stuffy atmosphere of that particular classroom, but I still had to get through the conversation with my teacher.

I felt a wave of cool air calling me from the school lobby, yet I stayed next to Ms Harrington's desk. She was short, the top of her head was roughly parallel with my chest. She had short blonde hair, and judging by the look, she was in her early fifties. She waited until all the students were out of the room, before looking me in the eyes and addressing me, her strict voice gave way for a more relaxed, compassionate tone.

"Nick, I'm really worried about you." She said, surprising me. The teachers often asked me if I felt well, considering how smug my face always was, but I was always sure that Ms Harrington didn't care much about how her students' wellbeing. Classes with her felt like she was just trying to shove information into our heads, and be done with us, waiting for her next Leaving Cert group, to teach the same things for a whole course of two years. I was puzzled by her concern and remained silent.

"I often see you with friends, which is good. But when you're away from the group, you always look like you're about to tear up. Is anything bothering you?"

This again. I was fine. Well, not entirely, but I preferred not to talk about it. Or think.

"Have you been getting enough sleep? Lately, you've..-" I stopped her mid-sentence.

"I wasn't sleeping." I said firmly. "I just didn't pay attention for a minute, that's all." I said, looking into her eyes. Back in the first year of secondary school, a teacher told me he could always easily tell the truth from a lie just by looking into the student's eyes, and if that person was looking down, they were definitely a liar. Since then, I've always been looking straight into people's eyes when lying to them, with a confident, but not overly formal tone.

Ms Harrington sighed, looking at me with tired eyes.

"No one can help you, if you won't allow them to, Nick." She said. "You can talk to me in my office anytime. I can get you a meeting with the counsellor too..."

"I'll be fine, Miss. Thank you."

I raised the sides of my lips and gave her a single nod, implying I was okay, hinting towards a goodbye. I could see her sigh once more, and look into the wooden floor as I went into the crowded hall.