text: “What Sallinger most demonstrates here is, Caulfield’s fear of adulthood and phoniness, it was this idea of adult phoniness that lead Mark Chapman to shoot John Lennon citing the Catcher In The Rye as his statement...” I wish she’d shut up, I don’t care, I don’t even know who John Lennon is or Mark Chapman or Caulfield or this Sallinger bloke either, nor do I care, it’s twenty to three on a Friday afternoon, it feels like it’s been twenty to three for the last 35 minutes, it’s the last lesson of the day and the sun is shining through the scratched perspex windows casting the strangest of shadows across the desks and all I want to do is jump out of them and run until I can’t run anymore. It’s not that I don’t like school, if anything I quite enjoy it, it’s just the lessons I don’t like. Ben leans over to me and whispers quietly in my ear, well as quietly as any 15 year old boy can whisper to another, “pub tonight, bruv?” what stupid question, it’s not that I really liked the pub if i’m honest it’s probably no better than school, but you just don’t say no when somebody asks you to the pub. “Alright then mate” I reply as if the decision was my own. It was at that moment the bell rang and the entire class stood up in unison and rushed for the door in a mad exodus of hurried conversations, swear words and swinging handbags, pushing out of the doors and into the world. Nobody stops to think about the doors, nobody except me, all the doors in this school tell a story, they’re covered in layers of paint, each one of the many different colours the school has fruitlessly adopted over the years to try and change its image, each layer with its’ scars showing the layer beneath, each scar inflicted by generations of use and vandalism. Reminding us that no amount of paint, no new colours will ever change the school or the pupils. Once me and Ben finally make it out of the school we’re straight onto the estate, from one jungle to another, nothing changes here either, there's the same kids running round on the same bikes, harassing the same motorists, there's an old phone box on the corner, not one of the quint red ones that you see on the tele, but one of the purpley grey ones from the 90s that stinks of piss, with only half the glass left in it, most of which is covered in torn posters for nights out of town from years gone by. Me and Ben head back to his, it’s not even on my way home but I follow him anyway because his sister might be there and everyone knows she’s the prettiest girl in school, probably in the whole of town. We burst into his house, kick our shoes off, say hello to his mum and run upstairs to play playstation and plan our weekly trip down the pub. “We always go to the Rose and Crown” Says Ben, “The only girls in there are from school, why don’t we try the Dragon?” I’m not sure if I admire his confidence or detest his stupidity. Ben is way more confident than me, but a lot more stupid. “It’s the only pub that will serve us” I reply, “We never try and get served anywhere else, besides it’s full of school kids” I think the irony was definitely lost on Ben at this point. “What if we wore suits geez?” Ben said eagerly. “Why don’t we start at the Rose and Crown and then try The Dragon after?” I reply in an attempt to finish the conversation. “Ok” Ben reluctantly agrees. After walking all that way to discover his sister wasn’t in and to lose two games of FIFA on the trot I make my excuses and get up to leave, “Right, now tonights sorted I better get going then. See ya mate” with this I spring up from the edge of his bed where I was sitting, hurtle down the stairs, kick my feet into my shoes and walk out of Ben’s front door slamming it behind me. Don’t ask me why but I started walking home the long way, the very long way, so long in fact that most people would call it the wrong way. I don’t know why I did it but I did. I don’t know why I do a lot of things, for somebody so I clever I don’t know a lot. I did know that I didn’t like Ben his confidence annoys me, besides why should I like him he doesn’t really like me, he just pretends he does, probably to make himself feel better or because it's become a habit of his he can’t seem to change. I carried on walking the wrong way, choosing to walk round the back of the shops and through the alley ways, dusted with broken bottles, fly tipped furniture and tufts of grass that had made their way through the cracked concrete. It wasn’t the most scenic of routes in fact to most people it was probably pretty ugly, but I liked it. The litter might blow away, the damp abbonadend mattresses might come and go but the ugliness had a constant it had always been that way and it always would it was this reliability which gave it its beauty, you can keep your coastal paths and flowers, they all erode away into nothing or dry up and die eventually anyway. As I got towards the edge of the estate and into the woods the decay continued but it was more camouflaged than before, the carcasses of stolen hatchbacks and mopeds abandoned on the side of the track in their deep burnt orange and powdery white colour schemes sat on a plinth of scorched earth and melted plastic, they still smelt of burning even after all this time. Now they played the perfect host to plants looking for fertile ground to grow, reclaiming what was once theirs. It was probably time to turn round and head home in the right direction now, I was getting pretty tired and besides I was supposed to be at the pub in a few hours, before all of that though I decided to sit down and take the weight off my feet I found an ash tree, laying on its side, torn from the ground in last October’s high winds, I clambered up onto the horizontal trunk and sat there, my feet dangling loose in the air, looking at the woods that sat on the edge of my estate. I pulled my school tie loose and slung it into my backpack. While I was sat on that tree I started thinking about all the people I’ve ever known and how now I don’t know hardly know any of them, all my friends from little school, the lads I used to play football with in the street, my mum, my dad. I still see the lads in the street sometimes and most of the kids from little school are still in my classes now and I see my mum everyday and my dad every weekend, well mostly. But I don’t know them anymore, not like I used to and they don’t know me either. It sounds crazy and it probably is. After a little while stuck on the same thought I pull my phone from my pocket, after punching in my passcode I open up my contacts and scroll through them slowly, looking for somebody to ring, I could ring Ben about tonight, but it couldn’t be more than an hour since we saw each other and I remembered that I didn’t like him much anyway. I stop scrolling when I see Emily’s name, we met last year while we were both on holiday at a caravan park, she had the prettiest long dark hair and the biggest brown eyes, which reflected the lights of the arcade around the room a million times like a kaleidoscope powered by 2 penny pieces, I was too scared to speak to her when I first noticed her but our mums got chatting over their love of vodka and Eastenders. I was both pretty embarrassed and secretly pleased when mum suggested we hang out together. We hit it off straight away and although nothing happened, well nothing like the boys at school talk about - we held hands and when it was time to go she kissed me on my cheek - she’s stayed on my mind all this time, I should have tried to kiss her properly you know spontaneously like they do in Eastenders, but I didn’t. I wanted to call her but decided against it, I didn’t want her thinking I was weird, I guess I am weird but I didn’t want her to think that, anyway what would I say? I pressed to lock button on my phone watched the screen go black and slipped it back in my pocket, slipped off the trunk of the tree and started to head back into town. I wish I hadn’t agreed to go to the pub, me and ben just sat in the corner looking at the same faces we looked at all week at school, too scared to talk to the girls, besides all the pretty ones were getting plenty of attention from the older guys. Ben turned up in his suit, he looked about as out of place as I felt. If the pub was empty it would have had some charm I guess it had the same sense of decay as the alleys on the estate the garish wallpaper was peeling away to show more garish wallpaper underneath, the carpets were saturated with years of spilt drinks, tears and blood and were obviously worn into tracks between the front door, the bar and the back door by decades of footsteps. Nobody had been allowed to smoke in here for years but the ceiling was still yellow from the nicotine of years gone by and the smell still lingered in the air, trapped in the curtains and upholstery. Me and Ben were on our fourth pint now, Ben insisted on ordering IPA even though it was horrible because he was convinced it made him look older. After I finished my fourth the pub started to seem a lot better, I still couldn’t muster up anything more than a mumbled “alright” for the girls from school but I was worrying about less and started to think maybe Ben didn’t dislike me as much as I thought. I wondered if I should tell him about Emily but I decided against it, I didn’t think he’d believe me and I didn’t want him to think I was a lier. So we carried on talking about football and school watching what seemed like the entire world go by from the corner of the pub back and forth, back and forth, in the front door, to the bar, to the back door into the smoking shelter, in the front door, to the bar, to the back door into the smoking shelter again and again all night long. I woke up the next morning fully clothed laying on top of my duvet, everytime I moved my head I was in agony, all I could remember from last night was that Ben had that stupid suit on, I bet I’ve upset him last night and can’t remember, he definitely doesn’t like me now I reached for my phone but it wasn’t there, my stomach wrenched knowing that I’d lost it, trying to work out who else I was rude to and upset last night from school, I couldn’t remember a thing but definitely Ben and the girls at the bar, I remember seeing them so I must have said something under the influence.