To Megan’s obvious annoyance, Philippa continued sitting next to Fran in every lesson they shared. Fran welcomed it, even if she found it a little strange that Philippa kept blushing and acting shy around her at odd moments. Some part of her brain had its suspicions, but she ignored them as best she could and tried to focus on her work. Outside lessons, Philippa seemed to spend most of her time talking to Matt and Tristan whenever Megan didn’t turn up to drag her away.
As well as trying to get all of her homework done, Fran kept searching for a way to get back at Kevin and Simon. Joey and his two friends seemed to be lying low after Arthur’s ‘talk’ to them. Kevin and Simon, by contrast, took every possible opportunity to torment her. By Thursday, after enduring several days of being de-booked and derisive comments, and still without some way of coming back at them, she returned to her room to find that it had been ransacked.
The worst part of it was that it wasn’t just her side of the room that had suffered. Quite apart from her sheets and duvet being pinned onto the ceiling over Brookie’s collection of Bruno posters, Brookie’s bed had also been upended, his desk chair had been taken to pieces, and Fran knew that Brookie would murder her if he came back to find some of his favourite posters partially ripped or torn down.
Fran dropped her books onto the blank mattress and sank face down onto the bed with a whimper, praying with all her might that nothing had happened to Brookie’s fitness machines. She might be able to repair his office chair, but the machines were beyond her. She would at least have just over a week to fix Brookie’s side of the room, but it wasn’t even that messy compared to hers. It looked like somebody had taken particular care and delight in removing each individual piece of paper from her files and tearing out every single page in every book before cutting them into pretty paper snowflakes to decorate the floor. She kicked her feet moodily against the bed frame. My teachers are going to kill me. Class books were expensive. Her wardrobe had also been emptied, with a number of her clothes pinned up to her corkboard. Fran thanked her lucky stars that she’d put her spare chest compressor into the wash at lunchtime. If somebody had found that, there would have been problems.
She didn’t even realise the door had opened until Rico gave voice to a loud profanity.
“What happened here?” he tacked on as an afterthought.
“Dunno.” Fran kicked the bed frame again and then internally cursed herself as her big toe started throbbing. Rico wandered further into the room and Fran buried her face in the mattress.
“Is somebody trying to get you killed?” came Rico’s muffled voice. “Brookie is going to freak if he sees this.”
Fran rolled over with a loud sigh and let her arms flop out beside her. “The only people with personal vendettas against me are Joey, a girl in my year, and Kevin and Simon.”
Rico groaned and returned to Fran’s side of the room. “You shouldn’t make yourself a target. While Brookie’s not here, they can use him to get at you.”
“Yay me.”
“If you want, I’ll help you tidy up later. I actually came here to tell you from Piers that you can’t just do your own thing during the games sessions without approval – you need to go to the Games office and sort out your activities during games slots so the Games master knows you’re not just wasting time.”
“What’s he going to do, send me on a walk?” Fran scoffed. “He’ll never know if I just come back here and play Mario Kart.”
Rico smiled sympathetically and checked his watch. “I wouldn’t bank on it. I’m going to get changed – I was supposed to be on the pitch ten minutes ago.”
After the door had swung shut behind him, Fran sat up and surveyed the mess. Three scrumpled t-shirts lay in an orange, white and green version of Rico’s smile, with two odd trainers filling in as the eyes.
Fran shook herself. If I start seeing smiles in clothes, I’ll start seeing creepy stalkers in Vampire Bruno. She decided that the games department could wait until the next day and began to tidy up, promising herself a reward of half an hour on Brookie’s bike machine if she got her side of the room clear in half that time.
It was only then that she spotted the pink, heart-shaped post-it note that had been stuck to the desk, and her plans flew out of the window.
Hi, cupcake. Don’t even think about getting the U6th involved in your life again, or we will f***ing kill you. They shouldn’t have to waste their time on you. Maybe you should migrate to the other side of the school. You suit a skirt more than trousers.
Fran flung the armful of clothes she was holding onto her bed and bolted from the room, racing along the corridor and down the stairs at the other end so that she could find the dorm map taped to Mr Carson’s office door.
She was in absolutely no doubt as to who had devastated her room, and there was no way she was going to leave it be without getting revenge.
For some reason, a crowd had gathered outside the boys’ boarding house by the time the sixth formers were released from rugby training. Worn out and in need of a shower, Arthur, Rico and the twins trudged past the whispering boys and girls and headed inside. Arthur was the only one who had the presence of mind to remove his rugby boots before they entered the foyer, and as they clattered across to the lift, Mr Carson’s irritable voice drifted out through the open office door.
“Boots off, boys. We have a boot room for a reason.”
Rico shook his sweat-filled hair and spat out his gumshield as Aaron called the lift and Isaac detoured for the toastie machine in the kitchen.
“Sorry, sir!” Rico called.
“Clean the mud up,” Mr Carson replied. “And why is everybody standing around outside the house as if they’re waiting for shooting stars during daytime?”
The boys exchanged glances.
“Conspiracy theory?” Aaron joked feebly. The look that Arthur threw him told him that it wasn’t even worth rolling his eyes.
The lift pinged open and they bundled inside.
“Isaac!” Rico yelled as the doors began to close. “Do us a favour and clean the floor!”
“You owe me toasties!” came the predictable reply. Rico grimaced and turned to Aaron as the lift ascended.
“Have you thought about sending your brother Toastie-holics Anonymous?” he asked.
Aaron chuckled around his gum guard. The lift doors sprang open and they headed out into the corridor. Rico immediately vanished into his room, which was the first door, and Aaron into the one adjacent, but Arthur continued to the common room because he wanted to make himself a cup of tea.
The instant he pushed the common room door open, there was a scrambling commotion from the big red sofa in front of the TV.
“I’m Luigi this time!”
“I am until you agree to play something different!”
Arthur paused and raised an eyebrow. “Shish kebabs. Piers playing Mario Kart? I thought you hated gaming.”
“Oh, it’s you.” Grinning sheepishly, Piers lowered his hand with the gaming console. Frankie also pulled back from a punch he’d been about to give Piers.
“What are you doing?” Arthur demanded as he crossed the room and searched for a mug in the cupboard.
“Nothing,” said Piers.
At exactly the same time, Frankie said, “Gaming.”
Arthur spared a glance at the TV screen before sticking his mug under the boiling water point and turning the tap on. “If you expect me to believe that somebody can convince Piers to game with them, we’ll have to upgrade Frankie’s status from ‘newbie’ to ‘miracle worker’. What were you really doing?”
“Nothing,” the others chorused in unison. Sticking a teabag in the mug, Arthur left his drink on the sideboard and came over, hopping over the back of the sofa to settle himself between them. He flung a dirt-covered arm around each of them.
“Naw, c’mon,” he grinned. “What’re you hiding?”
Piers covered his mouth and nose and turned away.
“Arthur, I mean this in the nicest possible way, but you stink.”
Arthur ruffled Piers’ hair affectionately while Frankie tried to wriggle free. “I have just had two hours of rugby training. I’m going to sit here until you let me in on the plot.” He turned Piers’ head in towards him.
Piers struggled and broke free, gasping for breath. “Okay! I’m covering Frankie’s arse and giving him an alibi! Now go and shower!”
Arthur retracted his arm from Frankie and turned to face the younger boy. “Alibi for what?”
The common room door slammed back on its hinges and Isaac appeared, balancing a stack of toasties in his right hand.
“The hell?” he grinned as he bit a corner off one of them. Melted cheese dribbled down onto his hand. “You guys seen the roof?”
Piers and Frankie exchanged glances and quickly looked away, obviously trying not to laugh.
“Now I’m definitely not showering until you spill,” Arthur threatened. Frankie snorted and hastily covered his mouth.
“Some nutter’s gone and rebuilt Simon and Kevin’s room on our roof,” Isaac continued around a mouthful. “Absolute genius.”
Frankie and Piers both burst out laughing.
“Frankie,” said Arthur, “they are going to kill you.”
A broad grin spread across Isaac’s face as he came into the room and caught the door briefly with his heel so it wouldn’t slam. “Oh God. You evil mastermind, Frankie. Why?”
Frankie shrugged. “They ransacked my room.”
“And that’s the payback?” Isaac jerked his thumb at the ceiling. “Remind me never to piss you off. How did you do it?”
“I helped,” Piers volunteered with a grin.
“The furniture’s all Ikea,” Frankie added, “so it was really easy to take apart and reassemble.”
“Nobody knows how to assemble Ikea stuff,” said Arthur.
Isaac crammed another toastie into his mouth. “Well, I hope Simon and Kevin don’t. I’d love to see them sleep out on the roof. And the clothes....” He choked.
“What about the clothes?” asked Piers and Frankie with interest as Isaac cleared his windpipe and took a couple of deep breaths.
“They’re being blown around campus by the wind. Kevin blew a nut. He’s so messy with his clothes that it’ll take him a month to collect them all.”
“And so your alibi is that the pair of you spent your off-games session gaming rather than moving Simon and Kevin’s room outside?” guessed Arthur. “I agree with Isaac, Frankie. I don’t want to get in your bad books.”
Frankie wrinkled his nose. “Then take your tea and go shower before I throw up.”
Arthur recoiled in mock indignation. “Hey! Any more of that and I’ll have to issue another formal challenge!”
“Sure. Air hockey, then? Once you’re showered.”
Arthur shot him a look of terror. “Oh, hell no. I’m never playing you at air hockey again. You nearly killed me.”
There was a bark of laughter from Piers. “Beaten at your own game, Arthur?”
Arthur pouted and started sulking, which made all three of the others chuckle.
“Arthur, I swear, you’re such a kid sometimes, and the unbelievable thing is that nobody realises.” Isaac tossed him a toastie. Arthur caught it with a wary expression in his eyes.
“What are you planning to bribe me for?”
Isaac spread his hands wide, three toasties on each palm. “Oh, come on. Would I?”
“You value toasties higher than your life, Isaac. Of course you’re trying to bribe me.”
Isaac sighed. “Darn. I’m that obvious? Fine. That one’s to bribe you to accept the bribe, and here’s a second one so you won’t tell Carson who moved Kevin’s biohazard room onto the roof, because Frankie’s totally epic.” He tossed a second toastie in Arthur’s direction and then lobbed one to Piers.
Reflex reactions from playing far too much sport meant that he caught it, but Piers looked terrified. “Isaac, what do you want?” he asked, eyeing the toastie as if it were an unpinned grenade he ought to throw back.
“That’s for joining the dark side. Sorry we don’t have cookies, but the fact you actually helped Frankie do this means I’m willing to part with a toastie.” Isaac shrugged and pitched one across the room to Frankie, who caught it in his mouth.
Piers visibly relaxed. “Well, I came back from physio to find Frankie struggling through the corridor with a desk, and when I found out it was Kevin’s, I knew I was obliged to help. Frankie dismantled the cupboards and beds while I moved everything out to the roof and then we reassembled them up there. Best afternoon’s work I’ve ever done. Just because we don’t beat up the younger years to make a point doesn’t mean Kevin and Simon can bully little people without fear of vindication.” He leaned around Arthur to bump fists with Frankie. “Respect, buddy. Nice to have you on the corridor.”
Frankie grinned, cheeks stuffed as though he were a toastie-eating hamster. “Fanks.”
“Anytime. Just don’t skive a sports session again, even if you’re not on games.”
Arthur and Isaac both clapped hands to their foreheads with mock groans.
“Francis Grey! Get your arse out here!”
“Oh, sh*t.” Frankie shot a fearful look at Piers and scrabbled for the console. Piers snatched his up, too.
“When Kevin asks, Frankie and I have been playing Mario Kart all afternoon,” Piers told the others.
The common room door opened.
“Hi, guys,” said Simon, flashing a winning smile. “Have you seen Fr—?”
“I’m gonna wring his neck!” fumed Kevin from behind his roommate.
Arthur managed to inconspicuously steal Frankie’s console and continue the paused Mario Kart game. Piers hit a banana and went spinning off the track.
“Nope,” Arthur replied. “He was in here all afternoon with Piers, gaming, but he said he needed fresh air and went for a walk about ten minutes ago.” He was sufficiently big to hide Frankie from view of anybody who didn’t come further in through the door, and he felt Frankie sinking deeper into the cushions beside him.
Kevin swore and looked out into the corridor. “I’m going to murder that runt. He moved our entire room outside and now all my clothes have blown away.”
None of the upper sixth were able to hide their smirks.
“It’s not funny!” Kevin yelled.
“Sorry, mate, but that’s bloody hilarious,” said Rico’s voice. “Nobody’s done a prank so classic since Hewie’s big brother got suspended for dismantling the head’s car and putting it back together on the roof of the science labs.” He pushed his way past the two lower sixth boys and headed for the boiling water point. Simon and Kevin sensed that they were barely being tolerated and left, Kevin muttered something about going out into the grounds to hunt Frankie down.
“Thanks,” Frankie murmured to Arthur once the door had closed again. There appeared to be a fair amount of animosity between the two sixth form years, and she wasn’t totally sure if protecting her had been a bi-product of that or because Arthur found her amusing.
“I advise you to find somewhere else to sleep until Brookie’s back,” Arthur warned. “You never know what they might do if they think they might get you on your own.”