Circle I (ii-Finn)

AN

Spoiler! :

Okay, so the whole story is alternating from Luke's and Finn's perspectives. Again there are a few things I'm conscious of in this section that I'd love your opinions on Firstly- Finn's voice. It keeps coming off as overly shallow and teenage girlesque. Which I suppose it's meant to be, but not overly so or... anyway- tell me what you think of her voice, her introduction, and the continuation from the first part. As it goes further on, the two points of view work better together but here at the beginning I'm worried that it's very stilted or something or, well, you'll see for yourself. Oh- and the mentions of her parents. Originally I took the first one out because it seemed weird but then I put it back in and, well. Oh, you'll see. I'll just be quiet. And of course, any other blindingly obvious mistakes, please tell me!

I knew I should be worried. There was something lurking in my mind, telling me to be worried, some uneasiness in my stomach when I woke up. The problem was, I didn’t know what I should be worried about.

First, there was Mary, who wasn’t worried at all. That in itself was weird. The dorm we shared wasn’t full of Mary’s concerns about boys and skincare and what dress to wear where. In fact, for the first time in the five years I had known her, Mary’s life was going- there was not other word for it- perfectly. And that, rather than making me happy for her, made me anxious.

Then there were the Carrickdove murders. It didn’t concern me past the fact I was here, in Carrickdove College, but wasn’t that reason enough to be worried? That there was some sick murderer in our own quiet little town? Carrickdove was the sleepiest place in the world, I didn’t know why the school founders had set up here. I suppose everything was a bit sleepy back then. But the murders were nasty, inhumane, frightening. There was no pattern, and a student could easily be next.

The last thing I thought I should be worried about was Luke O’Driscoll.

Luke O’Driscoll was one of those boys who, chameleon-like, could blend in anywhere. The same height as me, skinny, medium brown curly hair, glasses. The sort of boy you didn’t look at twice on the street. We had both been here since First Year but we had never spoken much. He was polite to teachers and laughed quietly at jokes made on the lunch table, at least, the few times I had ever sat near him at lunch. His roommate was Barry Carmichael, my friend Josie’s boyfriend. He had been sent home last week with glandular fever- which I was suspicious of, everyone knew you got it from kissing and Josie didn’t have it, but as ever, she trusted him completely. Barry was nice enough and I knew he and Luke were friends, but other than that, I didn’t know who Luke hung out with.

Which might explain why he looked so lost when he came into Irish. He looked like he had seen a ghost. That didn’t even cover it. He kept his head over his notes and scribbled like a thing possessed but he was trembling and sweating from head to toe, fidgeting. His face was sheet white, his eyes were permanently wide behind his glasses.

When the bell rang, he bolted and I didn’t have time to rush after him and see what was wrong. I picked up my bag and stowed my books. That left me with my two other options. Mary had been moved to our Honours Irish class last week from Ordinary Level. Suddenly she was brilliant at Irish. Not as good at me, but still pretty impressive. She latched onto me as we left.

“God, that class is a drag, isn’t it?” she said. “Wish we didn’t have to do it. It’s so stupid.”

“I don’t think so,” I said vaguely, partly because I wasn’t concentrating and partly because Mary was annoying me and I wanted to watch her squirm. And partly, because truthfully, it was the one Honours class I never struggled in. Dad used to ship me off to Irish courses every summer so he didn‘t have to deal with me. Weeks spent in the rain and wind of the west and the kind of discos you thought were cool when you were twelve left their mark. Then Claire came along and we began spending summers together like a normal family.

“Oh, I mean, sometimes it can be nice-” and she launched into a long-winded retraction. I tuned out and adjusted my bag over my shoulder. Mary continued on her monologue. I figured I was doing her a favour by giving her something to worry about.

Luke wasn’t at lunch, though that didn’t surprise me. I wasn’t particularly hungry, taking soup and salad but only picking my way through it. Still, Claire had trained me into believing that missing meals was a bad idea, no matter how good your intentions were. In the common room afterwards, Mary made the six of us in our dorm building in our year a pot of tea- essential on a bitter January day- and we turned on the fuzzy picture of the news.

And beneath the crackling sound, I found Issue Number Three to be worried about. Another body had been found and identified to have belonged to Flora McConnell, nineteen and bottle-blonde. Ripped apart, the reporter said, standing in the familiar main street of Carrickdove. Police were baffled, the public were terrified.

I was both, until a tiny gesture pushed the murders out of my mind. Mary turned from handing me my steaming mug and as she did so, hitched up the grey waistband of her skirt. Something so small but it raised a new, cold fear in me. Because I knew Mary, I knew her better than she knew herself. I thought about the beginning of term when we had arrived all bloated and content after Christmas. Mary, wide-eyed and flustered with excitement, had shown me her new discovery. Ways to make all your wildest dreams come true, chalk circles and incantations and candles. She had been really into it until, like horoscopes and dream interpretations, I had told her I wasn’t interested.

As we went to our room to get our books for the next class, I cautiously nudged the topic into conversation.

“Mary, you know all that…” I paused, “witchcraft stuff you were talking about after Christmas?”

“Yeah,” Mary said slowly. “What about it? You want to… give it a try?”

“No. I was only wondering if you had done any.”

“What makes you think that?” Mary asked sharply.

“Nothing. I don’t know. Things are going well for you lately.”

“I guess I’ve just been lucky.”

“I know. Some of it seemed… it doesn’t matter,” I said quickly, turning away, knowing Mary would pick up the topic.”

“No, it does. Seemed what?”

“Like your being in Honours Irish and you’ve lost loads of weight pretty quickly. I didn’t even know you were dieting, so I thought…”

“You think I used magic to do better in class and be skinny?” Mary’s voice had gone up an octave. “What do you think of me?”

I shrugged. “Sorry.”

Mary tossed her hair, grabbed her Business books and stormed out, but I knew we’d be back on good terms by tonight.

And I knew something else.

She hadn’t denied it.