Memory: 'Pissed'

O_ and I sit near the edge of the green. Pink sweet wrappers lie torn between us . We flip between lying on our fronts, our sides, and sitting up. I dig little holes with a twig. We talk about Neighbours, things our other friends said, what we really think about them, what we really think about everything. The grass has left imprints on my knees and elbows, I can’t rub them off.

A voice calls to O_. It’s that girl who lives a few doors down from her. Her name is Siobhan I think. A year or two older than me.

‘O_! Oh my god, you need to help me!’ She is laughing. There is something off.

She bends down to us, her breathe smells stale, her eyes are wild. She looks around and swears us to secrecy, then whispers that she is ‘PISSED’ (the word used in that way is new to me). Stumbling back, she laughs and says she hopes she’s not in too much trouble!

I look to O_. She looks back to me and we laugh. We shrug that of course we’re not going to tell anyone.

O_ warns her not to let her mum know and go straight up to her bedroom. Siobhan laughs and kisses O_ clumsily on top of her head. O_ squirms and laughs. Siobhan walks off home, legs wobbling, head flung back laughing.

O_ and I watch her turn the corner. We smile at each other and pull at the grass.

She looks like she was having so much fun. That looked like fun.

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