Chapter 3
“What’s up with you? I haven’t seen you all morning. You look terrible! And what were you doing talking to that creep? Was Sasha bothering you again?”
I looked into her quizzical face, and realised two things; 1) That I’d forgotten to walk with her to school this morning, and 2) That I forgot to brush my hair.
I glanced into the mirror next to the sinks, and saw that my usually-immaculate strawberry blond hair was all scrunched up at the back. I patted it back with one hand and hoped that it didn’t look matted.
“I had a nightmare, and had a fever. I’m fine now. And, that creep, saved me from Sasha and her gang. I’m sorry, okay, but lay off a bit.”
Josie seemed satisfied with my explanation, but still seemed to be bothered. She crossed her arms and stared at cubicle 2.
“Well?” She shot me a look like venom, waiting.
I thought she was waiting for some magnificent apology or something, but of course, it was Josie. I should have known. “My headphones?” She held her hand out.
Oh yeah. She had lent me her headphones the day before when I’d forgotten mine and didn’t want Ms. Phish getting angry at me.
I fumbled with my pockets for a few seconds before retrieving a golden key.
“Here’s the key to my desk. Your headphones are there,”
Josie smiled, swiftly swiped the key from my hand and took off.
I sighed. Josie was like an owl. Paranoid, pretty, permanently loyal. Feisty too. Sometimes I remember how good it can be having someone like her at my side. Want an example?
How about…? I was walking home from school one day with Josie, and met a man just passing. Slowly, he seemed to be edging towards me. I was starting to think he was a mugger, and if I was becoming worried, Josie definitely was. What kind of freak would wander around at 18:00 and follow someone down cul-de-sac road? Well, Sasha and co., obviously, when they’re looking for a nine year old to beat up. But anyone else, I’m not sure.
Well, anyway, here we were, about to be mugged by a complete stranger, when I realised something.
“Oh, bother, I think I dropped my blazer at the crossroads!” I turned around to come face-to-face with the man.
He looked around, ooh, 19? More of a late-teen really than a man. Chestnut brown hair was styled into a curving side parting. For some reason, it reminded me of brown sugar. I don’t know why. I’m just weird like that. He seemed quite strong, but not like he visited the gym often, more like he just did tennis occasionally. His blue eyes pierced through me like an arrow through water, only more judging, more perceptive.
“Excuse me,” I mumbled, slightly more aggressively than intended. He didn’t budge. Hm. I hadn’t anticipated this hold-up.
“What are you doing out at this time? Won’t your parents be looking for you?” He smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile, more of a cold smirk, like we were a game he enjoyed playing.
I pursed my lips. I hated it when people assumed I had parents. I have a parent. Get used to it.
“Please move out my way,” I said more forcefully, still staring at the ground. As I glared at it, a small weed wilted and died. I stepped back in surprise, but the guy obviously thought it was because of intimidation, because he advanced further.
“She told you to move. Move it.” Josie stepped towards him, glaring up at him.
“What about your parents, pretty?”
Josie scowled. Her parents were in China. They sent her to England, to board at our school. It was a touchy subject, because she sometimes thought that they didn’t want her.
Anyway, we were old enough to be out on our own, and it was none of this guy’s business. So why did we keep answering his questions? And what was that plant thing?
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to get my jacket.”
The guy made a mock thinking face.
“No.”
Josie kneed him in the shin, grabbed my hand and dragged me away. I guess we had just assaulted a man, but he was being difficult, and there was no long-lasting damage.
I drifted back to Earth, and remembered that I was in the loos. I checked my watch, and realised that it was two minutes until the first lesson. I had to get out of here fast if I didn’t want to get caught by Ms. Phish.
Ms. Phish was the deputy head, and she was one of those really strict to everyone, no matter what age, their superiority, inferiority, and look. She was the deputy head, and there were so many rumours about her, some plausible, some not so.
Like how she had a bucket of confiscated things. That seems plausible. But what doesn’t seem plausible, is that she uses it to knock children over the head with when they misbehave. Michelle had made that up last summer, and it stuck to the younger kids like glue.
I sighed and ran out, just as the bell rang.