What the Summer Did to Us

27/03/12, Fields, Lunchtime,

The sunshine has plunged all but Victoria into a lazy haze. Cassie is sprawled on the grass with her head on her bag, hair shielding her face from the sun.

“Oh, sod the rest.” The last woman sitting gives into temptation and sinks down to mirror Cassie’s position.

Abbie sits opposite me, fiddling alternately with the grass, sparse in the patch we sit on, and her phone. She is practically radiating boredom - from what I remember of our years in the same form, she enters this state with ease and frequency.

“I feel like everyone’s dead,” she says, half laughing.

“I’m still alive!” Victoria protests. No one else argues the statement.