Slated

Chapter 14

Monday morning at last.

"I can't imagine why you are so keen to go to school," Amy says. "It's not that great."

I pull on my uniform: white shirt, black trousers, and maroon jumper. Bought new on Friday when it became apparent that even Amy's old ones were far too big for five foot nothing me.

"I like learning things," I say, brushing my hair. Which is true, though not the whole answer. I want – no, need – to know everything. Every fact and detail I can find out and categorise, draw and file away, is one more step.

"Well that is good, I guess. But it's all the rest of it."

"What do you mean?"

Amy sighs. "It's not like the hospital school. Not everyone will be nice."

Mum is fussing about in the kitchen when we go down for breakfast. I look about, suddenly nervous that Dad will be here, or won't be here, and what that might mean, either way. Did I dream the whole thing?

"Keep it down," she says. "Dad got in late last night; he's asleep."

Not a dream.

Amy and I have cereal; finally Mum comes to sit with us.

"Kyla, listen. Are you sure you want to go today? You don't have to yet, you know."

I look at her in surprise. She'd been happy to hear I was to start school, get out of her hair, she'd said, so she could get back to work herself.

"Yes, I'm sure," I say.

"Yesterday at the show, you seemed nervous about all the crowds of people. Lord Bill's is a big school: there are over a thousand students. Are you sure you are up for this?"

"Please let me go," I say, suddenly worried she won't, and I'll be home for days, that days will stretch into weeks. A long march of monotony to winter with no one to talk to and nothing to do.

She stares back, then shrugs. "All right. If you are sure this is what you want. Do you want me to drive you instead of getting the bus?"

"No. I'll be fine with Amy."

I get up and start stacking the bowls.

"Leave them. I'll do it."

Well.

I look at Amy. She smiles as Mum carries the dishes into the kitchen. "See, I told you she isn't that bad," she whispers.

I get on the school bus, Amy behind; it's nearly full.

Heads turn; ripples of low voices follow as we walk up the aisle. I feel eyes like footprints walking up my spine. There are two empty seats opposite each other. I move towards one of them, and the girl by the window narrows her eyes. She puts her bag across the empty seat.

Amy crosses her arms. The bus lurches as it pulls away from the curb, starts up the road, and I grab the back of the seat to stop myself falling over.

"You know, I think that was a bit rude," Amy says.

The girl stares back at Amy and swings her feet up across the seat. Voices hush; eyes swivel and stare.

A hand waves at the back of the bus. "Kyla? There's room here."

I look across heads: it's Ben. Relief fills me, to see a face I know. A safe place.

Amy still stares at the girl.

"It's all right," I say to Amy, and move back. Thinking green trees blue sky white clouds green trees blue sky white clouds...

"Hi," I say to Ben, and sit down next to him. There are a few others from Group also, all sitting in a smiling tight cluster together at the back of the bus. All in the same maroon and black uniform as everyone else, though somehow on Ben it is different. Everything looks better on Ben. But no Tori?