I didn’t know her name. Maybe I did at one point. She was in the year above us, and that was always a sign that we weren’t meant to be communicating. (We had a better relationship with the people in the year below. The following year, when they joined us, was much more convivial, even if Becci did insist upon pelting Harry with wine gums.) Still, I recognised drill girl, and although I don’t think we ever exchanged any words, I felt no affection nor animosity towards her. She was just another face in the crowd.

To this day I still have no idea how Lightsinthesky felt about her.

Maybe he didn’t like her. She was one of the many in our school who wore pink and jeans. He wasn’t fond of pink and jeans. He’d tell anyone who’d listen that. I’d have done so, just to spite him, had I owned a pair of jeans. I don’t think I’ve worn jeans since I was about six.

He also did something (which I’m assuming was, I have no idea) grotesque when she walked by. Invariably he would put his hands to his chest, extend one finger of each as if they were an extension of his nipples, and make a noise like a drill.

Drrrrrrrrrrrrr. Dzzzzzzzzhhhhh.

He never explained this. I assume we were meant to know what that meant. The logical part of my brain tells me that this was some sort of misogynistic commentary on her breasts, but since her breasts were average size, well-proportioned and worked beneficially on her slight frame, maybe he was seeing something I wasn’t. I mean, I wasn’t looking too closely at her breasts.

Eventually he’d grow tired of the frowny face I threw him every time he did this, because after a while he would nod sagely and answer the question that nobody had asked him:

“Yes, she is intensely shaggable.”

Which also wasn’t something I’d considered. Lightsinthesky saw pretty much every girl in the school as somewhat shaggable. This is the guy who would take up the bass guitar because that’s how you get all the ladies. I may have had the occasional crush, but I wasn’t as desperate to shag anyone as he was. My assumption is that he would have sex with drill girl if he could, but he couldn’t because he didn’t know she was, and neither did I, so he just consoled himself with making the drill noises, pausing, and then declaring her intensely shaggable.

Am I the only one who’s confused by this?

Drill girl passed us in the lunch hall once and Lightsinthesky waited for a few seconds before the hands came out and he made a noise like a cross between a pneumatic drill and a machine gun.

“That’s all I have to say,” he nodded, with some finality to it.
“I don’t understand and I never have,” I interjected, “but… do you like her or not?I mean, you keep saying she’s intensely shaggable.”
“She is intensely shaggable.”
“If you say so,” I sighed, realising I wasn’t going to get much else out of him. “You just keep making that drill noise when you see her and I’ve no idea what that means either.”
“Oh, you know.”
“…”
“You know.”

It was a statement, not a question. Clearly I was supposed to know what this meant. I also wanted to work out why he found drill girl so intensely shaggable.

“My God, that woman’s got a huge arse,” he said, snapping me out of my rêverie.
“You know, you’re not meant to say stuff like that,” I responded. “It’s not appropriate.”
“But it’s true,” he explained. “And I’m always clear about what I say.” (He didn’t hear my snort at this as he ploughed on regardless. “Plus, it’s one of my catchphrases.”

I didn’t even know he had catchphrases.

“Five seconds, here we go,” I said in the style of Roy Walker.

I’m still annoyed he didn’t get it.