one,’ I answered. ‘I met her. She asked if I knew you, said that you used to play with her or something.’
‘Shut up,’ Billy hissed. ‘You can’t…You…Who’ve you been talking to?’
I smiled nervously. Billy looked like a bomb about to explode, and I was standing directly in his path. ‘No one,’ I insisted. ‘I wasn’t speaking to any—’
The punch crunched into the soft bit between my stomach and my chest, and I felt my lungs instantly cramp up. Before I realised what was happening, Billy had me by the front of my shirt. He was shouting something, but all my attention was focused on trying to draw a breath, and I missed most of what he said.
‘…ever talk about that again,’ was the only bit I caught, before he pushed me to the floor and stalked off, his two minions following close behind.
Fighting the urge to puke, I crouched on the floor, feeling my breath gradually return. A few of my classmates glanced pityingly at me as they rushed past, but none of them bothered to stop.
Then, just as I had begun to think about getting up, a hand reached down, palm upwards. I looked at it, then up into eyes I hadn’t seen in a fortnight.
‘OK,’ frowned Ameena. ‘And you let that jerk get away with that because…?’
Ilet Ameena help me up, then stood there brushing myself down, not quite sure what to say to her. I’d begun to think I would never see her again, and now I couldn’t decide whether to hug her or shout at her. I decided, for the moment, to do neither.
She looked just as she had done when we’d first met, only now her long dark brown hair wasn’t matted to her face with rain, and her deep brown eyes weren’t wide with panic. She still wore the same shabby black jacket and jumper; still had the same oversized walking boots on her feet; still looked like she needed a good meal.
Seeing her brought everything rushing back. Every feeling from Christmas Day – the pain, the fear – came washing over me, all hitting me at once, making my legs go shaky and my head go light.
‘You should’ve kicked that guy’s ass,’ she told me, glaring along the corridor in the direction Billy had gone. ‘Why didn’t you?’
‘Uh, well, because I can’t? You saw the size of him.’
She looked at me like I was crazy. ‘You’re kidding, right?’
‘No, I’m not kidding,’ I said. ‘He’d kill me.’
‘What?’ she spluttered. ‘But…Christmas. The stuff you did. The stuff you can do.’
I pulled my bag back up on to my shoulder and set off along the corridor. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ I said.
‘Maybe not, but it happened,’ she replied. ‘I saw it.’ She quickened her pace and stopped in front of me. ‘What, you think that guy’s anywhere near as tough as Mr Mu—’
‘Please,’ I implored, ‘can we not do this right now?’ I stepped past her and carried on towards my next class. ‘I’ll talk about it later, but just…not right now.’
She hesitated for a few moments, not following me. ‘No can do,’ she said at last. ‘I’m leaving town. Just dropped in to say goodbye.’
I stopped; turned to face her. I wanted to ask her where she was going. I wanted to ask her why she was going. There were a dozen questions I’d have liked the answer to. In the end, though, I just said: ‘Oh.’
‘Try not to get too cut up about it,’ she said sarcastically.
‘No, I…it’s…I thought you’d already moved on. I haven’t seen you since…you know.’ We stood there, several metres apart, all alone in the corridor. Virtually strangers.
‘Where were you?’ I asked, more forcibly than I’d intended.
‘I’ve been around,’ she shrugged. ‘Just thought you might need some space after everything that happened.’
‘What I needed was someone to talk to,’ I told her.
‘You had people to talk to. You mum. Your gran.’
‘Mum didn’t want to listen,’ I said. ‘And Nan…Nan doesn’t make a lot of sense half the time.’ I glanced down at the floor, then back up at her. ‘I needed someone who’d been through it. But you weren’t there.’
‘Hey, kiddo, I’m not a counselling service,’ Ameena shrugged. She folded her arms across her chest and shifted her weight on to one foot. She was about the same age as me, but insisted on calling me “kiddo”. It drove me nuts.
‘No. But I thought you were a friend.’
‘Friends don’t get you anywhere,’ she scowled, before wincing slightly at the harshness of her words. ‘Listen, you want to talk? Here I am.’
‘I told you, not now,’ I answered. ‘Can we meet up later?’
‘And I told you, I’m leaving.’
‘Just ten minutes after school,’ I said. ‘Please.’
She looked at me for a few moments, then gave a sigh. ‘Ten minutes, then I’m gone. I’ll meet you outside.’
‘OK,’ I replied, fighting back a grin of delight. ‘I better run.’
‘Later.’
I gave her a goodbye nod, then hurried off towards my next class. Halfway along the corridor, I paused. ‘Oh, and Ameena,’ I said, turning round, ‘it’s good to see—’
But the corridor was empty. Ameena was already gone.
I started the first afternoon lesson – History – the same way I’d started the first class of the morning – late. The teacher, Mrs Ennis, didn’t look impressed when I scurried in, but at least she didn’t put me through any ritual humiliation before letting me take a seat.
It was a relief to see that Billy’s desk at the back of the class was empty. He skipped lessons quite a lot, and I was glad he’d chosen to give this one a miss. I’d had more than enough of him for one day.
The rest of the class were already studying a textbook by the time I got settled at my desk. I peeked across at the girl sitting next to me to find out what book we were supposed to be looking at, then began rummaging in my bag for my copy.
A faint, nervous knocking on the classroom door made everyone look up from their work. I ignored it, still busy looking for the book.
‘Enter,’ called Mrs Ennis, in the posh voice she only ever uses when inviting someone in, and I heard the door swing open just as I found the right textbook. As I pulled it out of my bag, I caught a glimpse of a first-year boy hurrying across the classroom, his face red with embarrassment. He thrust a note into Mrs Ennis’s hands, and then quickly beat a retreat.
I flicked through the pages of my book, trying to find the right chapter. Most of my classmates had turned back to their work, leaving only the really nosey ones to watch Mrs Ennis unfold and read the note.
‘Kyle Alexander,’ she said. I looked up to find her looking back. ‘The headmistress would like a word.’
Making my way along the deserted corridor, a sense of dread began to rise from the pit of my stomach. Whatever Mrs Milton wanted to see me for, it was unlikely to be good.
Classroom doors lined the walls on either side of me. Teachers’ and pupils’ voices drifted out of every one as I passed. I recognised some of them, but not all.
A clattering, jeering and the occasional