9.30 a.m. - Results Arrive
Shrieks fill the school auditorium. There are more than 100 15- and 16-year-old girls gathered here, jumping up and down screaming in high-pitched voices. "What you get, what did you get?" asks one. "I don't know, I can't read it, its all in bloody Irish," replies the other. "Give it here and I'll read it for you."
The jumping, hugging and screaming continue for another 10 minutes. For some, though, the tears have already started. A few girls grab their slip of paper and run. Some are delighted, some disappointed and some confused as to whether a D grade in an honours subject can be called an honour or not.
10.15 a.m. - Drifting off
The girls are still hanging around the school grounds comparing results. They all came to school today wearing jeans and tracksuits, knowing that classes were cancelled. The mobile phones are out and they're calling mothers, grannies and boyfriends, passing on the news. They're still giddy and excitable, and the tear-streaked ones are being comforted by others.
People begin drifting out the school gates in twos and threes, lighting up cigarettes as they go. "We're not allowed to smoke inside the school grounds," one says. It doesn't bother them that the teachers can see them smoking from where they are now standing.
The plans for the Junior Cert celebrations are long formed. Tickets for the various discos went on sale the week before. The Red Box, the Point, Break for the Border and lots of other venues are all hosting special-event discos from 7 p.m. to 11 p.m. Tickets cost around £16.50 and it's a mineral bar only. Most of the kids are making arrangements to meet up in friends' houses to get ready together.
The alcohol is already arranged. Some of the girls look older than their 15 or 16 years and they all say that when they have make-up on and they're all "tarted up" they have no problem getting served in pubs and off-licences. In any event, most have older sisters and brothers who have no qualms about buying the alcohol on their behalf. In some cases parents - mostly mothers - will supply the drink.
The door policy at the Junior Cert nights is strict. Bags are searched, coats are searched and the girls claim that "bouncers also search your hair for drugs". Most of the kids will drink before going into town, and then knock back something just before they go in - "so that the effects will hit you in 20 minutes or so".
11.30 a.m. - Hanging Out
The girls are hanging out in the local shopping centre. They've grown bored of talking about their results by now, having analysed every grade and subject. Neighbours and relatives walking by stop and enquire as to how everyone fared. "I did great. Well I failed French, but sure that doesn't count because its only French," says one girl. Her female relation nods in agreement.
One of the girls is still very upset. She didn't do that well and her parents had been quick to make comparisons with the results achieved by her older brothers and sisters, who all did well back in their time. She appears a little unsteady on her feet, and her friend says she's already had a few cans of beer. Every so often a new face will arrive with fresh news of more results and the tongues start wagging again.
1 p.m. - Still Hanging Out
It's lunchtime and we're sitting in a fast-food joint eating chips and gravy. Britney Spears is singing I'm So Lucky and around the restaurant the girls, humming along, are back discussing their favourite subjects: boys and sex - and tales of alcohol-fuelled nights on the town.
They claim to drink on a very regular basis and most would appear to be quite familiar with the interiors of some city-centre pubs.
The girls are discussing boyfriends, and in fairly graphic terms. The girls boast about sexual conquests, and all plan on "meeting" a few guys when they get out on the town later tonight. Meanwhile, in another suburb the parties are winding up as kids head home and out for lunch with parents - "to show the face for a while before heading out again". The results arrived first thing in the morning, but some of the kids have already had a beer to "calm their nerves" - for the laugh and just because they could really, is how one 15-year-old tells it.
"Everyone headed down the local town centre for a while then, just to meet up and see how other people in the other schools got on. Then the parties started and some of the kids started drinking then - but they wouldn't have been getting drunk you know, just the ones that drink all the time and can handle it.
"You'd have to be stupid to get drunk tonight," says a 15-year-old girl. Everyone is planning to go to the Junior Cert disco, despite the fact that it's a mineral bar only. `We'll all have something to drink, but we're not planning on getting drunk. You won't get in if they see you're drunk, and anyway none of the pubs will let you in tonight, and your parents will be watching to see if you've been drinking. You'd never be let out again if you did that tonight.
"We're all planning on going out and celebrating properly at the weekend anyway. But I'm sure all the usual heads will be there tonight, and there will probably be lots of fights. Some people just go out to start fights."
4 p.m. - Getting Ready
The girls are all at home getting ready for tonight. Most have been to visit grandmothers, relatives and neighbours to tell them the results, knowing that there is usually a "Congratulations" card awaiting them, with a £10 or £20 note tucked inside.
6 p.m. - Queueing Starts
It's raining. There's a queue forming outside the Red Box on Harcourt Street. People leaving their offices and strolling up Harcourt Street under umbrellas are staring. It would be hard not to. Gone are the jeans and tracksuits of earlier in the day.
The girls are wearing tight skirts with high, revealing slits, low-cut tops, figure-hugging dresses and high-heel shoes, as they jump out of their parents cars. The guys all look alike, in variations of check shirts, drinking as they walk along the street and finishing off cans of beer and cider in the queue.
It's getting quite rowdy - lots of shrieking and hugging from the girls and the guys are messing around and eyeing up the girls. No ones really talking about the results anymore.
8 p.m. - The Disco
Break for the Border is packed. Everyone is dancing, with DJ Mark McCabe on the decks. Everyone has been searched on the way in and the bouncers refused admission to a number of kids they suspected had been drinking earlier on. The crowd is pushy and over-excited, all dancing in groups. Guys have to be told to keep their shirts on while dancing.
There's a few people stumbling around the place, a few girls getting sick in the bathrooms, but most people appear to be having fun. Most of the guys say they were drinking earlier on, with some claiming to have been "smoking blow" as well.
The Red Bulls are in hot demand, and the place is a hormonal cesspit, with everyone "meeting" - a term used for snogging/kissing. A meeting usually goes like this: the guy walks up to the girl(s) and indicates with a nod-of-the-head type of gesture, and then they start kissing each other. No names, no introductions. "I was meeting this guy, and then I turned around and was with his friend," one girl says.
It's not anything goes, however. Some of the girls point to a girl in the crowd who is "practically doing it on the dance floor".
There are a lot of older guys in the disco, hanging around the younger girls, who are loudly boasting of the number of guys they've met. "I'm on number seven already!" one girl screeches.
9 p.m. - In the Pub
Some of the girls, bored with the disco, have left Break for the Border and headed to a public house some streets away. "These Junior Cert nights are great - everyone's on the same high and you run around buzzing off one another. All these kids your own age out for the same reason. It's not like the pub on a Saturday night, it's a different buzz - but you get bored after a while." says one of the girls, sitting in a city-centre pub.
The girls, who are all dressed up to the nines, look very out of place in this well-known bar on a quiet Wednesday night. They send the most mature-looking girl up to the bar for the double vodkas and beers. She isn't asked for identification.
Half-way through the second round one of the barmen clearing glasses off the tables gives the girls a funny look, and tells them they'll need identification.
11 p.m. - After the Disco
All the discos are over now and people are hanging around the doors. There are three gardai standing outside a nearby teen disco, keeping an eye over the crowd. Everyone is still on a high, all hyped up and the guys are still chasing the girls. "Where to now?" people keep asking. Some of the kids are looking the worse for wear, and some are met at the end of the alley by anxious parents.
Some have curfews, a lot don't. There's a lot of people cracking open cans of beer, and the gardai take a bottle of cider off one male and pour it out.
The crowd moves along, and people are still buzzing around. A lot of older guys who wouldn't have been at the discos are hanging around now, much to the girls' delight. Sixteen-year-old girls say they prefer older guys - they think guys their own age are immature and are only looking for one thing.
12 p.m. - Heading Home
Most kids are heading home now. Some of the kids are still hanging around - there are a few scuffles, but no big fights. It's still drizzling, and it's cold.
The Garda reports a quiet night overall, with a few incidents but no arrest of minors for public intoxication. The casualty departments in various hospitals also have no reports of Junior Cert night incidents.
