Eggs

I got in deliberately late in order to miss assembly and get my essay written up. It was the seventh years’ last day here and, as they’d all threatened to get us, there was a tension and expectancy around. After History, the tension was still there; our lot sat as usual near the door, but the wandering to and from told us something was up.

Then, at a count of three, we were bombarded with eggs, and as everyone dived for cover amid egg-shells and yolk, Lee and I slid for the door, and somehow I escaped with only a splash on my leg. Lee’d bought six eggs just in case and it was superb seeing their shock as we fired back. My first egg splattered on a window but Lee got Ian Emsley right in the face. It was really good. The mess was incredible, yolk everywhere, on the floor, the ceiling, the walls. We all frantically cleaned it up but Wallis and then Ingham came in to bollock us all and Ingham forced me to confess. We all indulged in a water fight before Art before being ejected by the caretaker.

The weather was extremely hot and sweltering. A nothing evening once more.