(790 words; approx. 790 hours; written yesterday; totally cheating)
“You have to pinch it,” said Coach Naylor. “Firmer than that. Here.”
“Ow! Okay!” Beatrice pushed Coach’s stubby fingers away from her face. Blood trickled down her lip and two drops landed on the gym floor. Conscious of the aghast faces of her classmates around her, she ducked from under Coach’s hand and tipped her head back, still holding her nose.
“I’m so sorry, B,” said Rachel, for the third time. “I didn’t mean to, I swear.” She was still clutching the offending ball.
“Head forward, Beatrice!” Coach said
“But she’s getting blood on the floor?” someone else pointed out. “It’s unhygienic?”
Before Coach could argue, Lola bounded up to them with a roll of blue roll and Beatrice pushed her nose gratefully into a wad of the tissue.
“Shall I take her to the nurse?” Lola said, brightly.
There was a good forty-five minutes left until the bell. As they made their way through the empty corridors, Lola took her arm and made jokes about Coach. “Coach Naylor, she’ll nail ya, if she doesn’t, she’s gonna fail ya,” she chanted. Then she pushed Beatrice’s head down again in imitation of Coach. “Go on girl, don’t be shy.”
“Gerrof,” Beatrice said into her tissue.
The nurse’s office was at the front entrance of school, opposite Reception, but the door was shut and the light off.
“Foiled again,” said Lola, peering through the frosted glass.
The receptionist called over to them, phone cradled under her chin. “You looking for Nurse, girls? Had a bit of an accident have you, Beatrice? You sit down there a moment.” Mrs Evans waved to the squat brown couch outside the door. “She won’t be far, should be back at any moment.”
Lola and Beatrice exchanged a look.
“You first,” said Lola, manhandling her friend towards the couch. “You’re injured. You look like you’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“Ndoh way.” Beatrice pushed Lola away with her free hand. “You practically carried mbe all this way, the cootie couch is all yours.”
Lola looked over to Reception, still clutching Beatrice’s wrist. Mrs Evans had resumed her very important phone conversation, whilst looking for something no doubt relevant from her handbag. Lola opened the door to the nurse’s office, pulled Beatrice inside and shut it firmly after them. “The nurse is in,” she announced, finding the light switch.
Beatrice had never seen inside before. It was small and cramped, with no windows. There was a desk, some cabinets, and an examination table covered in paper. At the foot of the table there was a little sink. Above that there was a dim mirror and some complicated instructions about hand washing. On the other walls there were posters so old the colours had leached down to greens and blues. Our Bodies. Sex And You. Avoid Flu This Winter.
“What can I do you for?” said Nurse Lola.
Beatrice hopped obediently up onto the exam table. “I was punched in the face by a woman wearing a Le Coq Sportif tracksuit.” she said.
“Yes but how does that make you feel?” said Lola. She sat down at the desk and started opening the drawers one by one.
“I feel magnificent, like I’m becoming a real woman at last. What are you doing?”
“Just looking for a pen,” said Lola, though there was a pot full of pens on the desk in front of her. “So how long would you say you’ve been having your period through your nose?”
“I couldn’t say, but I think it’s stopping.” Beatrice inspected her bloody wad of tissue.
“Excellent!” said Lola, from behind the desk.
Beatrice tossed the tissue into the bin and went to look in the mirror. She turned on the water and started to wash her face. She heard Lola start to open the doors of the cabinets. “Do you think I’ll get a black eye?” she asked. “Maybe I should get some tape and say I had a nose job. Lola?” She heard a cupboard door slam shut behind her. She turned around, dabbing her nostrils experimentally with some more of the blue roll, and froze.
The school nurse was standing in the doorway, her lips set tightly.
Lola was facing her, standing rigid. A little set of keys dangled from one hand. She didn’t say anything.
Normally Beatrice counted on her friend for moments like these. “I had a nosebleed,” she blurted out, after a long moment of silence. “Sorry. There was no one here, so. Lola said she’d wait with me.”
She’d expected an onslaught, but Nurse just nodded. She wasn’t even looking in her direction. “Are you okay, Lola?” she said, very gently.
Lola nodded.
“The keys, please.”
Lola handed them over without a word.
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