A moment of happiness

She heard their laughter through the open window. They would be on her in minutes. 3 minutes to be precise. She could tell from the tone that they were pissed and had pulled tonight. They would come bursting into her room in 2 minutes and 40 seconds and tell her all about how wonderful their night out had been. The songs they’d danced to, the boys they’d kissed, the drinks they’d spilt.

She had to put her happy face on. Clear away the tissues; clear away all the signs of her unease.

2 minutes 20. They’d be on her, like a pack of well-oiled harpies. Their sharp beaks would peak at her fragile flesh and tear at her eyes. She washed her face, trying to hide the redness of her eyes. She hid the vodka, the poetry, and the love letters.

2 minutes, she made herself coffee; they’d be at it for hours. Janice with her legs around her ears. Molly and her toilet escapades. Ginger and her manic dancing. Always the same yet somehow they never got tired of rubbing it in her face.

1 minute 40. She pushed her box under her bed; she didn’t need the hassle if they found it. Who would have thought people whose noses were so petite could look down them quite so well.

1 minute 20. She heard the front door open and the girls’ bundle through, falling over each other and their own feet.

1 minute, they were coming down the hallway. She stretched the smile across her face that would get her through. The smile that never quite made it to her eyes, but they didn’t notice.

30 seconds, they banged on her door, still laughing their idiotic laughs.

10 seconds, she goes to the door and pulls it open.

“Baby.” Ginger chirped. “You will never guess what happened!”