• AMALIA •
My first class—English, which Oliver walked me to—goes smoothly. No one notices I'm there, and the teacher sits me at the back by myself, thankfully. But in my second lesson (Religion) Oliver convinces the strict looking teacher to sit me next to him and his friends.
The teacher leaves the room for a minute, and Oliver's friend turns around to us, as does the boy sitting beside her.
"Hi! I'm Gracie." She says perkily. "Oliver told me you don't—" She winces when she gets kicked under the table. I suddenly want to take up my dads offer on texting him if I want to come home, but I don't want to learn to rely on him. "Sorry. Was that rude?"
I shake my head, sending her a reassuring smile.
"My name's Liam." The other says. He sounds like, though he's here, he still hasn't mentally gotten out of bed.
Gracie is about to say something else when the door to the classroom opens again and the teacher walks back in.
"Okay! So, today..."
The teacher begins to talk about the lesson as I write my name down on the workbook she got for me.
Halfway through the lesson, Oliver turns to me with furrowed eyebrows. "Do you know what she's talking about?" He asks quietly.
I smile and show him my book, where I've written notes neatly about what the teacher is talking about.
"Thanks." He mumbles as he copies them onto his own page.
•
Thankfully, my next lesson is art, and Gracie is there with me. I don't expect her to want to sit with me at first, but when she takes a spot near the back and I don't immediately sit by her, she furrows her eyebrows.
"Did you want to sit somewhere else?" She asks. "The front seats are all right, but I like sitting at the back more."
I shake my head and sit down, grateful I have someone to sit with. My phone vibrates with a notification in my pocket, and I pull it out as discreetly as I can.
DAD: Everything going okay?
ME: Yes.
DAD: Good. Remember, if you need me just message me.
ME: Ok.
I slide my phone back into my pocket and smile at the young blonde teacher coming my way, two sketchbooks in hand.
"Hi, Amalia." She says brightly. She sits on the edge of the table. "My name is Mrs Sharpe. I'm your art teacher. I have two sketchbooks for you—one to take home since you chose art as an extra option, so you'll have a few more lessons with me a week, and this is where you'll do that. You need to bring it in on the days you have art, but you can leave it at home and work on it there on the days you don't. But this other one is one for this lesson. This will always stay in school and this is where you'll do the work you're given in class, whereas the other is for you and your person project, which I'll give you more information on in a second."
"Alright. So, for this lesson I want you to do something different than everyone else. I want you to pick a theme for your sketchbook and do the title page for it, but this is the one you can take home so you can continue it there if you don't get it finished. Can you do that for me?" She asks.
I nod. She smiles. "Okay, great. I'll come check on you to make sure you understand what you're doing in a little bit, once I tell the class what they have to do." She passes me a piece of paper. "If you're struggling to decide what you want as your theme, there are some ideas here."
I nod again. She walks back toward the front of the classroom and begins talking to all the other kids while I ponder what I'm going to choose as my theme. I could do flowers.. but I want to do something new. Unusual. I want to be able to learn about it and discover new things while doing so.
After a little while of thinking, I write down on a piece of paper: LIFE AND DEATH.
It comes with a lot of options on what to do, despite being a darker topic. I can write about celebrities—like Marilyn Monroe—and different holidays within different cultures—Like The Day of The Dead—as well as what can cause deaths, like suicide. Maybe I can use it to try understand why my mother killed herself. I know it was because of me, but what actually made her do it? What was the final straw?
Besides, if I don't like it, Gracie told me that these sketchbooks only last until the end of the year, and we can pick a new topic in the new school year, if we want. She does art as an extra option, and as I sketch out ideas for my title page, she tells me her theme is the seasons: Autumn, Winter, Summer and Spring.
"I think Life and Death is interesting. There's a lot of ways to interpret that." Mrs Sharpe says when she comes back over. "You can go on your phone and search up some ideas for your title page, if you'd like."
I nod and smile in gratitude as I pull my phone out of my pocket. Despite choosing the theme, I have no clue what I'm going to do beyond that.
I search up images that have connotations of life and death, eventually deciding to write the words in thick letters, dotting the i's with skulls. I decide that I want the drawings and paintings of death to be grey and dull, while the ones of life will be colourful and vibrant.
I have the urge to send a picture of what I'm doing to my dad, but crush it. I appreciate what he told me last night.. but I'm not somebody who's supposed to be loved. I'm supposed to be alone, I always have been.
When the art lesson ends and break begins, I frown. I like art, it's where I have the most creative freedom.
I put my sketchbook into my bag and write my name on the other before handing it in. Mrs Sharpe tells me I can come to her if I ever have questions, and I nod before grabbing my bag and coat and leaving. Gracie waits for me.
"I normally go to the library at break. Do you wanna go there with me?"
I nod. She smiles. "Okay, great. There's a bit at the back that nobody ever goes to." She leads me to the top floor of the ginormous school and toward double doors labelled LIBRARY before taking me inside. I smile at the smell of books and wood, following Gracie to the back of the library, behind a bookshelf where there's a table and six chairs. She sits on one, pulling out a pack of cookies from her backpack, and I copy, grabbing my water bottle out my bag and taking a sip.
"So.. how do you talk to your family?" She asks suddenly. Quickly, she adds: "you don't have to answer if you don't want to. I'm just curious."
I pull the new notebook and pack of pens that Elijah got me yesterday out, opening it to the first page. Gracie watches me as I write:
SOMETIMES I WRITE STUFF DOWN.
BUT OTHER TIMES I NOD AND SHAKE MY
HEAD.
"Cool. Is this how you'll talk to me?"
MAYBE. IT DEPENDS WHERE WE ARE.
"Okay." She says, smiling. "I—"
She cuts herself off when two girls walk into the closed off space. I recognise one as the girl who cornered me in the petrol station bathroom on Friday with her brother. They said I was the reason their older brother was beaten up, but how could I have been? I've never seen them before in my life.
Jess scowls at me when she sees me, and says to her friend loudly, "first she comes to my dance studio and ruins it, and now this freak is at my school too?"
I look down at the notebook, and Gracie turns to them. Before I can try stop her, she says: "shut up, Jess. You're ruining school for everybody in our year. And you're just mad that Amalia got a duet with Oliver and a solo, and you were just in a group dance. You're the most unnecessary person on that team. I know that and I don't even go to dance."
Jess's eyes widen as I cover my smile with my hand. Even her friend cracks a smile that quickly disappears when Jess turns to her.
"Let's go. This place stinks, anyway." Jess turns around and walks out.
"It won't when you leave." Gracie rolls her eyes as she says it. Jess scoffs before she leaves.
I laugh. Gracie smiles. I write down:
THANKS. YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO
DEFEND ME.
"Of course I do. We're friends." She says. "And besides, it's funny. Whenever I argue with her, it's like arguing with a little kid. She gets offended easily." She pulls a cookie out of her pack and offers it to me. I shake my head, and so she shrugs and eats it instead.
Friends. I smile, I have two friends.
"We normally sit in different places at lunch, but if you wanna sit up here today we can. There's me, Ollie, Liam, Ezra and Mia. If you don't wanna stay here, we can go in the lunch hall or one of the work areas."
I write down: IS THERE ONE IN ART? I WANNA WORK ON MY TITLE PAGE.
She nods. "Yeah. We can sit there. It's probably the best place, to be honest. It's more private, and none of the teachers mind if you eat there."
I smile.
"By the way, Ollie showed me a video of your solo. You were really good. Jess is just intimidated."
THANKS. I write down.
"No problem."
For the rest of the break, she tells me more about the school until the bell interrupts her voice. She stands. I copy her after shoving my water bottle into my bag.
"What lesson do you have next?"
I show her. SCIENCE—ROOM 01 W/ MR JAMES.
She crinkles her nose. "I'm in Maths. I hate Mr James, though. He's.. weird. Not funny weird, but.. you'll see what I mean. I'll walk you there."
My nervousness grows as she leads me to the science department on the third floor. She stops outside the first classroom and regards me with a sympathetic look. "Walk back the way we came from the stairs and I'll meet you after class. We both have Languages."
I nod. She smiles and turns away, beginning to walk to her own lesson, and I tentatively step inside the classroom. The middle aged man at the front of the room turns to me when I step inside and smiles, showing way too many teeth. I feel like I'm underwater and he's a shark about to gobble me up. I take a precautionary small step back.
"You must be Amalia Romano. Your brother, Cole, is in my A-Level Science class."
I smile politely. Good for Cole.
As the classroom fills up and the second bell rings, I stay by the desk and wait for him to tell me where to sit. But he doesn't. He stands up and closes the door, addressing the whole class when he says, putting a hand on my back: "welcome class. This is our new student, Amalia. I want you to all make her feel welcome."
I don't like how his hand is on my back. My breaths become shorter and more constant. Memories of my step dad try to take hold of my mind, but I shake them away as I step away from his hand. He steps toward me and puts his hand back. I try to steady my breathing.
"Why don't you tell us something about yourself, Amalia?" He suggests, eyes bubbling with laughter. My throat blocks up. He begins to chuckle. "I'm only joking. You can't, can you?"
My eyes water as he looks out to the students staring blankly at him, some scowling. His grin fades. I step away from him again, closer to the door. He laughs nervously. "What, nobody got that?" He questions. "It's because she's mute. That's funny—"
Suddenly everyone's gaze shifts to the door. I turn to look at the young man standing there. His blonde hair is fluffy but styled nicely. His black sixth form uniform contrasts with his pale blue eyes and light hair nicely.
"I don't think it's funny." He says, a small glare narrowing his eyes. I swallow the lump in my throat. His gaze shifts to me. "Come on, Amalia."
I furrow my eyebrows. How does he know my name? What does he want?
"What do you want her for?" Mr James asks.
The boy scowls at him. "I don't think that's any of your business. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna take my little cousin."
Little cousin? I don't even know who he is.
"No—no, thanks okay. Goodbye, Amalia."
The boy opens the door wider for me, so I quickly walk past him and into the hallway. He sends another scowl to the teacher before stepping out and offering up a smile that softens his intimidating features.
"I'm your cousin, Emilio." A small crease forms between his brows. "Are you okay?"
I nod quickly.
"Okay." Though he doesn't seem certain, he moves on quickly. "Grayson asked me to come get you. He wants to talk to you."
I nod. He begins walking down the hallway, so I follow him to the ICT department, where Grayson is sitting in the work area with a blonde girl.
When he sees me, he smiles. "Hi, cutie." He says as I walk over to him. He's sitting, but he still wraps me in a side hug. "You okay?"
I nod again and smile, even though I want to cry. I hate that teacher.
"No you're not." He says slowly. "What happened?"
I shake my head. He looks up at Emilio, who recounts the story. By the end, the girl I don't know and Grayson have sympathetic expressions on their faces, though the latter's also holds a hint of anger.
"That dick." The girl says. "Did he do anything else to you?"
By this point, Grayson has pulled me onto his lap so I have somewhere to sit and is cuddling me to him like his life depends on it. I'm glad no one else is here, otherwise they'd think I'm a baby.
Tentatively, I nod. Grayson furrows his eyebrows and passes me a piece of paper and a pen silently.
I bite my bottom lip nervously as I write: HE KEPT PUTTING HIS HAND ON MY BACK. I DIDN'T LIKE IT.
Grayson reads it and then, in one swift motion, picks me up off his lap like I weigh nothing and sets me on the floor, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he stands and motions for me to sit in the chair. I do.
"I'll be back in a second. Stay with our cousins." He orders.
I nod, and he walks away quickly.
Cousins. That makes sense. The girl, who I've learned is called Estelle, looks exactly like Emilio, only in girl form. She also isn't as intimidating. Her touch is soft when she sets it on my shoulder and reads what my handwriting says.
She scowls. She turns to Emilio. "How many times have I said that pedophile should be fired? He's probably touched so many asses his hand is dented."
"Zio Enzo ci ha detto di non parlare di queste cose davanti a lei. E non imprecare quando lei è qui." Emilio's reply comes quickly, though I have no idea what he's saying.
(Uncle Enzo told us not to talk about stuff like this in front of her. And not to swear when she's here.)
Estelle sighs. She looks down at me. "Are you okay, Amalia?"
I nod. Even though, like last time I was asked, I couldn't be further from it.
Her face morphs into one of pity. She sits back down in her seat and scoots it closer to mine, pulling the laptop screen so I can see it.
"Do you wanna help me with my work while Grayson's gone? He got Emilio to bring you to make sure you're okay on your first day, but there is no way you're going back into that class."
I nod, thankful for the distraction.
"I'm supposed to make a website about..."
As she talks, I listen, grateful to not to have to be in that classroom again. At least, not for now.
•
When Grayson comes back, he has a kind smile on his face directed toward me.
"Do you want dad to come pick you up?" He asks me, snagging my attention away from testers for Estelle's website, which she made all by herself.
I shake my head. He looks surprised, but recovers quickly, furrowing his brows. "Why not?"
I grab the piece of paper from before. It's been almost half an hour—I don't know where he's been all that time—so I'm assuming this lesson period is almost over. I need to get back to the hallway before it ends, so I can meet Gracie there like we planned.
Quickly, I write down: I'M NOT GOING HOME. I WANT TO STAY HERE UNTIL SCHOOL ENDS LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE.
He sighs. "Why don't you just let dad come get you and then you can start a new day tomorrow?"
I shake my head.
He lets out another heavy breath. "Okay. Fine." He says. "But I want messages every half an hour, and I need you to tell me if something happens. Understand?" He tells me. I frown—why is he acting like this? I haven't done anything wrong. Have I?
His hard expression softens. "Just to make sure you're okay. Can you do that for me?"
I nod after a moment.
"Okay." He says. "I told dad what happened. He wants you to message him. Do it quickly before next lesson starts."
6/
I nod, even though all I want to do is forget about it. Does Grayson even have the authority to take me out of class—or get somebody else to?
I pull my phone out, trusting that if I get into trouble Grayson will explain what's happening, and click on my dads name.
ME: Hi dad.
His reply is almost immediate.
DAD: Hi baby. Are you okay? Do you wanna come home? I can come pick you up right now if you want me to.
ME: No, it's okay. I want to stay in school.
DAD: Are you sure? You don't have to. You won't be in trouble if you want to come back.
ME: Please stop, I want to stay.
Three dots appear and disappear for a few seconds before he replies:
DAD: Okay. If you change your mind, then message me. Make sure you talk to Grayson if something else happened.
ME: {thumbs up emoji}
I look back up at Grayson, Emilio and Estelle. I grab my backpack off the floor and stand up. Grayson turns and smiles at me. He wraps me in another side hug, planting a kiss in my hair. "Remember, messages every half an hour. If a teacher sees you and tries to take your phone away, call me and I'll talk to them."
I think he's being a little bit too paranoid and overprotective, but I nod and smile reassuringly at him anyway before pulling away and turning around, rushing down the hallway and toward the space Gracie told me we would meet just as the bell rings for the class crossover.
I wrap my arms around myself as I wait for her. After a minute or two, she walks through the crowd of people and gets to me, an apologetic smile on her face.
"Sorry. The teacher wouldn't let us go." She says. "How was Science."
I let out a heavy puff of air. She laughs. When we get to our next lesson, I tell her everything on paper, and she scowls after reading it all.
"Are you serious?" She asks. The teacher shushes her. Quieter, she repeats: "are you serious?"
I nod. Her eyes widen. "That's so creepy. What the hell's wrong with him?"
"Gracie, be quiet while I'm teaching."
My new friend rolls her eyes before she holds up a finger, telling me she'll continue in a minute, I think.
I nod and turn back to my work.