Not My Problem

by Ciara Smyth

I have these two daydreams. One is catching my enemies in a moment when I have the upper hand and they’re embarrassed and I get to act cool and aloof. The other is doing something amazing with my life and coming back to a school reunion and rubbing it in everyone’s faces. I’d invent an app that everyone uses and I’d rock up to the reunion and people would be using it and they’d be like, Oh, Aideen, nice to see you after ten years. Are you on Flubberygiblets? and I’d shrug like I didn’t even care. I invented Flubberygiblets, I’d say. Everyone would think I was class and then I’d be like, Have you met my wife, Kristen Stewart? We’re flying on a private jet to Maui tonight to have lots of sex and lip biting. Fuckity bye, assholes.

Even though Meabh wasn’t exactly Miss Popularity, no one was going to make fun of her for that now because being homophobic was no longer acceptable. Which is great, obviously. It just wasn’t great in time for me. It didn’t seem fair that it was easy for Meabh and Orla and Katia; I got all the hassle and they got to be brave and everyone else got to act like our school had always been this rainbow utopia.

“’Cause I fancy you. I’m hoping that if I go to all this effort you’ll look at me and think, Well, she might be a dumbass but she tries. And then, I dunno, maybe you’ll flash me or something.”