“Alex!”
Mum and John ran into the room. John was clutching a cricket bat. Mum rushed over to me. “Alex what’s wrong?” Seeing her had the effect of calming me down a bit. “I’m fine. I had a nightmare,” I breathed as she sat down on the bed. “Oh thank god. I thought something terrible had happened!” John grunted and stormed out of the room muttering under his breath. “…at his age.”
I sank back into the mattress. Mum pushed the damp stands of hair from my face and kissed my forehead. When she spoke, her voice was full of sincerity. “I know how awful nightmares can be. But everything’s okay now. Go back to sleep darling.” She stood up. The mattress shifted from the change in weight. “Night Alex.” “Goodnight Mum.”
Once the door had closed, I tried to remember what I’d dreamt about, but couldn’t — I kept hitting a mental wall. Perhaps it was better that way. I stopped trying to think and let my eyes droop.
I didn’t dream the second time.
First lesson the next day was Physics. As usual I walked to the Science block on my own. The room itself was pretty much the same layout as English, except instead of desks there were rows of tall benches lined with stools. Between each bench sat a sink with long curved taps descending into them. Instead of a whiteboard, the front wall sported an archaic blackboard. Various chunks of dusty chalk lay scattered on a tray attached to the bottom edge.
A smell of sulphur lingered in the room. The pungent scent made my nose itch. There was no teacher yet, so people were chatting amongst themselves. Once again, my seat was at the front — my back a target. In Physics, my tormentor came in the form of Thomas Jenkins. Or TJ as his friends called him.
I had to call him Thomas.
Not that I ever sought opportunities to speak to him. He was the skinny black guy with the imaginary girlfriend from Terry’s crew. He wasn’t quite as bad as his leader. But then that was like saying Hitler wasn’t quite as naughty as Stalin.
It was a small class — only ten students. The seat next to me was, and always had been empty. On the far side of the desk sat Simon Proctor — geek incarnate. He was staring at me when I sat down, his eyes magnified to epic proportions through his thick lenses. I offered him a smile. He snapped his head away, looking down at his textbook instead. Sighing I opened my bag. Social poison.
I was retrieving my own textbook from my bag when I glanced up and saw Gabriella heading towards the room. My heart did a double take. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head, held in place with various pins. A long brown cardigan hugged her slim figure. Matching coloured boots beat against the floor as she walked. Three girls from the row behind me buzzed around her, chatting and laughing.
Gabriella’s presence confused me. I’d seen her timetable. I’m sure I would have remembered if she shared more than one class with me.
The girls separated simply because the doorway wouldn’t allow four people simultaneous access. Then they swarmed around her again, continuing to giggle and gossip. I felt a pang of unexpected jealousy and hastily locked it away. One of the girls pointed to the seats behind me, but their companion shook her head and whispered a reply. There were frowns, but nothing said aloud. They smiled and walked over to their places.
I almost had a heart attack when Gabriella settled her bag on the desk next to me. I wasn’t the only one surprised, a wave of murmured confusion and disapproval rushed around the room. There were plenty of other seats around, most of them next to people several rungs higher up the social ladder. She looked at me, her eyes gleaming like pools of sun-kissed water. “Morning Alexander!” she breezed, “I’m not stealing anyone’s seat am I?” I swallowed audibly. “Uh…no that’s fine. But wouldn’t you rather sit with your friends?” She raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t we friends?” My cheeks went hot. “Oh, yeah — I mean of course we are! Sorry, that came out wrong.”
Gabriella waved a dismissive hand and smiled, taking her seat. Removing her science book from her bag, she placed it on the table, along with a folder and an expensive looking gold pen. She did everything with a hypnotic fluidity, as though all of her moves were pre-planned. As I watched her, I felt a dull hum of electricity build up under my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut and the sensation faded. After a few seconds, Gabriella half turned in her seat to face me.
“So, I owe you an apology,” she began, leaning forward and resting her chin in her palm. “I know I was supposed to meet you yesterday,” she paused, “something…came up.”
I tried to sound casual, like I hadn’t given it second thought. “No worries, I didn’t wait long,” I lied. For a second I considered mentioning what I’d heard in the lunch queue, but dismissed it. No need to embarrass her.
“Well anyway it was rude, since you were such a gentleman to me on my first day. Would you let me buy you lunch as an apology?” The corners of her mouth lifted up. “You can fill me in on where the rest of my lessons are then.”
My eyes widened at the unexpected offer. She wants to take me to lunch? The jolt in my stomach reminded me that this was a very good thing. I must have taken a while to answer because she frowned and drew upright. “I mean unless you have other plans…” her voice trailed off and she stared past me, out of the window at the rain slicked school grounds.
“No!” I said a little too loud. Quieter I added, “that would be great”.
She flashed her perfect teeth again. “Okay good.” I watched as she swivelled back around to face the front and opened her writing pad. My mouth hung open. I still couldn’t wrap my head around how hard this girl was trying to be my friend.
At that moment a petite woman glided into the room and stood by the blackboard. The chattering stopped, replaced by fresh silence normally reserved for Gabriella. I had never seen her before in my life, but she was undeniably glamorous. Long shining blonde hair ran down to her shoulders and piercing jade eyes shone out from behind black designer glasses, which perched on a slim and pointed nose. Clothed in a grey skirt suit with black tights and matching heels, she looked like a film star shooting a school scene.
Brand new murmurs of confusion swept around the room.
The woman picked up a long piece of chalk from the tray and wrote ‘Miss Steele’ on the board in sweeping letters. Once finished, she whirled back around to face us. Her thin pink lips parted into a presenter smile. When she spoke, her voice was high — almost musical. Her words were pronounced perfectly in the Queen’s English.
“Good morning everyone. As I am sure you have all noticed by now, I am not Dr Potts.”
That’s for sure I thought. Dr Potts was a moody, grey haired old woman who wore oversized jumpers she knitted herself. The old bat had one foot firmly in the grave and I guessed maybe she’d finally fallen in.
“My name is Miss Steele,” the woman said, pointing a delicate thumb at the name on the blackboard as confirmation. “It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that Dr Potts has been taken quite ill. As such I will be taking her position as your Physics teacher until she is well enough to resume her duties.”
Several guys made low whooping sounds and exchanged ‘subtle’ hi-fives. Miss Steele paused to let them finish, rolling her eyes.
“In case any of you are nervous about changing teachers this late in the game, please let me re-assure you. I may be a supply teacher, but I have taught at some of the most prestigious institutes, including Eton and Charterhouse. I’ve taught Physics for about seven years after graduating with a Master’s degree in the subject. My Student pass rates are on average about ninety four per cent. So you are in safe hands with me.” She finished with a wink, which got all of the boys grinning like idiots.
Miss Steele walked over to her bag and plucked an attendance sheet from inside.
“Now you know who I am, but I have no idea who any of you are.” She gestured to the class with a slender hand. “So I’d like you each to tell me who you are and a little about yourselves.”
My body stiffened. Public speaking was not my strongest attribute. I had enough trouble talking to one person.
“We can start with you at the back there.” The teacher pointed towards TJ and took a seat at the desk. Fishing a pen out of her suit jacket, she held it poised over the sheet like a hawk waiting to attack.
Everyone spoke in turn, giving their names, chosen subjects and going on about their personal interests. As people reeled off the cool things they did, I racked my brains for something interesting to say about myself. I
