Saving Elliot ✓

Chapter Four

When I went into the kitchen, I found a note stuck to the fridge door with a magnet.

To El,

Today is Elliot F's first day at St. George's and I need you to make sure he's OK. Don't you dare leave him by himself for a second; he's not only new to the city but also the country, so he has no idea where anything is. Just show him the ropes, make him feel comfortable. You better be nice to him. I'll be back at around nine this evening. There's leftover Shepard's pie in the fridge if you want it.

Love, Mum xoxo

I sighed and pulling note off the door, I scrunched it up and chucked it into the bin. Mum worked as a nurse at the Manchester Royal Infirmary. Like Dad, her job was hard and it demanded long hours so she always at work but she did manage to get a few days off once a month. She usually spent those days in her PJ's, eating food and binge watching on TV.

I turned the radio up and made myself a bowl of cereal.

I glanced at my phone. It was around half seven and Elliot still hadn't come down. The school bus would be here in twenty minutes. I guessed that he hadn't woken up yet, so I hopped up the stairs to his bedroom and banged on his door.

"What?" He groaned on the other side of the door.

"You know we have school right?" I said, "You can't sleep all day. Get up."

There was a pause and another groan. "Fine. Calm down. I'll be down in like ten minutes."

He actually came down in twenty minutes. I'd been pouring myself a glass of orange juice when I heard him clear his throat behind me. I turned. He'd leant his shoulder against the door frame and folded his arms over his stomach.

I cocked an eyebrow, mildly surprised that he scrubbed up pretty well in uniform. Smart. Less of an arsehole and more of a tolerable person.

"You took your sweet time," I said as I picked up my rucksack from the counter and shrugged it onto my shoulders. "C'mon. Let's go."

I moved to the door but he stepped infront of me, effectively blocking my path. I frowned at him. "Can I help you?"

He pushed the collar of his shirt down to reveal some dark bruises on his neck.

"That's because of you," he said, letting his hand fall down, "You and you're strangle-all-day-and-strangle-all-night man hands."

"Well that's what happens when you eat people's food and cut their hair," I said, "Now move out of my way."

His eyes narrowed. He looked appalled. "You're insane you know that?"

"Move."

He stepped to the side and I walked past him. We left the house and as I locked the front door, Elliot stood by the hedged wall that separated our house from the street. I shoved the key back in my coat pocket and closed the gate behind me. I glanced at my wristwatch and frowned.

"Walk faster," I said, "We're gonna miss the bus."

"You worry too much," he said, slinging the strap of his rucksack onto his shoulder.

"If you didn't take so long to get ready I wouldn't."

"Wow," he said, "You're not only a bitch in the afternoon, evening and night but also in the morning."

I grit my teeth, deciding not to reply and quickened my pace. I didn't have the time or the energy to get into an argument with him this early in the morning.

The bus stop was a quick ten minute walk from my house and I was glad to find we hadn't missed the bus. A group of girls in the lower school at St. George's milled about by the stop.

"Have you got money for the bus?" I asked Elliot as we came to the stop.

He nodded, too focused on his mobile to look at me. His slender fingers flashed across the keyboard. The group of girls stared at Elliot, blushing and whispering to each other. I rolled my eyes and glanced up at the sky. It would have been clear if it wasn't the light smattering of stubborn grey clouds.

A few minutes later a double-decker bus - labelled B16: St. George's, came to a halt before us. The doors swung open and we let the lower years go first. Then, stepping forward, I showed the bearded driver my bus pass.

Elliot, on other hand, struggled to find money since he was rummaging through his pockets for almost two minutes. I soon lost my patience and dropped two quid in the box.

"You owe me two quid, Fintry," I said.
The driver took the money, pressed a button and the small machine churned out a ticket.

"I owe you two pounds my ass, I was going to pay for it," he said grabbing the ticket.

"Oh, really? When?" I said, "The Second Coming?"

"Go to hell, Jensen."

I grimaced. "Well, don't say thank you then."

The bus lurched slightly as it began driving the down the street.

He said, "Don't worry, I won't."

Elliot trailed behind me as I climbed up the steep steps to the top deck of the bus. "Twat," I muttered under my breath.

In most school buses there was an order all students sat in. The youngest, the Year Sevens, sat at the front and the oldest, sixth formers like me, sat way in the back. I walked down the aisle to the far back where O'Connor seemed to be showing Finley something on his phone. I sat down next to Finley and Elliot slumped down on the other side next to O'Connor.

"Oh my God, Jensen," Finley chuckled, "look at this picture."

O'Connor turned his phone to face me. I laughed at the image of Alex Kopov passed out on the sofa in just his boxers and a bra. Someone had drawn penises all over his cheeks and forehead.

"We also got him in a dress and wig but he took 'em off," O'Connor said.

Finley grinned, "No but get this, O'Connor was so wasted he thought Kopov was a fit girl and he spent a full forty minutes chatting him up before he realised."

I laughed, "Oh my God, no way."

"In my defence," O'Connor said, "Kopov...did look like a fit girl."

"You idiot," I chuckled. "Wait, where's Jamie? Did he go to the party with you guys?"

I glanced around, trying to spot Jamie's mop of curly dark hair on the bus.

O'Connor shook his head, "Nah, he's got a cold or something so he won't be in school for a couple of days."

"Uh, you alright mate?" Finley said, craning his head to give Elliot a smile.
He didn't look up from his mobile as he nodded. "Great."

Finley and O'Connor looked at me. O'Connor raised an eyebrow and mouthed, Who's he?

New kid. I mouthed back, I'll explain later.

They nodded. O'Connor glanced at Elliot once more, "So, uh, what's your name?"

"Elliot," he answered, blunt and offhanded.

Finley and O'Connor glanced at each other and then at me. Finley grinned. He slung an arm around my shoulder and pulled me against him. "Same name as our El then."

"I feel so privileged," he said, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in his tone.
I grit my teeth. I'd promised Mum I would try to be nice to him but the bastard was making it harder and harder. I still hadn't gotten over the fact he'd cut my hair, which looked wonky by the way but when I went over to Dane's on Sunday, she managed to trim the other side and make everything look even. O'Connor and Finley tried and failed to engage Elliot in the conversation. He just placed his headphones over his ears. He leant his head against the window and closed his eyes.