The Weight of Souls

5 A LOT OF OPPORTUNITIES

The corridor outside Mr Barnes’ office smelled of Dettol and vomit. I hunched on the hard chair with my bag between my legs. A trail of sand had followed me in and now poured from the flap and pooled at my feet. I’d shaken out as much as I could before coming inside, but it was everywhere. My bra itched like crazy.

Way more annoyingly, Justin wasn’t the slightest bit rumpled. I hadn’t even managed to mess up his tie. It remained in its usual loosened knot, an inch below his top button. Along with everything about Justin it was a little too relaxed, but remained just the right side of messy. Everywhere Justin went he looked at home.

I ground my teeth. His legs were stretched out in front of him, his ankles crossed just as they had been on the bus. His arms were loosely folded and he was leaning his head against the artwork behind his chair. His hair too, was just the right side of messy, a touch too long, it was starting to curl at the ends and he had to push it aside to glance over at me, brown eyes sparkling with amusement.

“So, what’re you going to say?” He smirked. “That I was watching some year nine stuff you in the sandpit, so you decided I needed a beat down?”

“Don’t even!” My fists had curled already and he’d only needed a single sentence. “I know you put him up to it. I heard you all.”

“You saw us talking to Alan, but that was it.” He checked his fingernails as if he was about to go for a manicure.

“Then why did he apologise before he pushed me over? I’m not stupid. I don’t know what hold you have over him, but there must be something.”

Justin shrugged. “When Mr Barnes brings him in, I’m sure he’ll mention it if I, as you say, ‘have something’ on him.” His fingers made air quotes and I wanted to break them off and stuff them down his throat.

I sat on my hands.

“You’re a dick,” I muttered.

“Yeah?” Justin actually looked away, flicking a grain of sand from his blazer. “I didn’t do anything to you, Taylor.”

“You don’t have to,” I snarled. “You just point the dogs in the right direction. It’s always been that way. Why me? That’s what I want to know. Are you a racist? Is that what I should tell Mr Barnes?”

Justin’s cool eyes widened for a moment and he snorted. Then he leaned back in his chair. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

“My first day in this dump. You don’t remember what you did.”

“What I did?”

His first day at school was the day I met the clown; the end of my normal life. I thought I remembered everything about those terrifying hours, but my memories of Justin were vague. On that day he was just the new boy.

With a bitter little smile Justin shook his head. He resumed leaning on the mural and ignored me.

“Come on then, what did I do to you?”

He shrugged. “It obviously isn’t that important, not if you don’t even remember.”

“It obviously is that important.”

“Leave it, Oh.”

I was groping about for a way to make him tell me what I’d done when the memory clarified.

I headed for my usual seat but someone was already there – a new boy. He sat with his back to the room, looking out of my window, so all I could see was his neatly clipped hair, almost as dark as mine, and his thin brown fingers playing restlessly with a pencil.

“Hey.” The boy turned and our eyes met. My first feeling was disappointment. He wasn’t black like Pete, or even half-and-half, like me; he was just a boy with a deep tan. His eyes were brown, like mine, but they flickered nervously, taking in my clenched fists and the sight of Pete and Hannah standing behind me. I narrowed my eyes. “That’s my seat.”

He bit his lip and said nothing. I glanced at the teacher. Mr Barnes wasn’t looking at us so I squared my shoulders.

“You’re new, so you don’t know. But that’s my seat. Harley’s not here today, why don’t you go and sit next to James?”

In his place across the classroom James heard his name, and leaned back to study us until my hackles rose. Finally he used one toe to push the empty seat back: a silent invitation to the new boy.

But the new boy gripped the table. He wasn’t going anywhere.

I pressed my lips together. “Look, today’s my birthday and I’d really like to sit in my own seat near my mates.” I tried a smile.

The boy licked his lips. “It’s your birthday?”

“I’m ten.”

He looked out the window a final time then sighed and raised his voice loud enough for the rest of the class to hear. “Well seeing as it’s your birthday.” When he moved past the three of us he looked as if he really was doing me a favour.

At the end of the lesson I was right behind Pete when the necklace Hannah had given me slithered into my vest.

I fixed the loose clasp as the classroom emptied around me.

When I had it refastened I stood, then paused with the strangest feeling that someone was watching me. My eyes went to the corner of the playground.

I leaned closer to the window and saw something bright moving in the shadows. As I stared, a single crimson balloon appeared from the back of the building. It hung for a moment in a breath of still air then danced across the playground. No one looked up to watch it fly. Not one single child.

I walked quickly down the corridor. This was the third balloon I’d seen since the clown had appeared at the end of my street. I assumed he was some sort of naff birthday treat from Mum and Dad but his eerie silence had creeped me out and I had been grateful to jump on the bus and leave him behind. Now I was beginning to loathe the sight of balloons. Did it mean he had followed me to school?

I flung the double doors open and almost crashed into the new boy. James had him half pinned against the wall.

“Come on – truth or dare? You’ve got to choose.”

Justin’s face was pale under his tan and he was clutching his bag like a lifebelt.

“Just go with dare,” I muttered. “How bad can it be?”

Justin looked grateful as I sped past but I wasn’t thinking about him any more, I was thinking about the balloons I had been seeing all day. Balloons the colour of blood.

Was that what he was upset about? That I hadn’t helped him when James had him pinned.

I lowered my brows, trying to place him more firmly in my recollection of that day.

Mrs Pickard cleared her throat meaningfully and I glowered at the paper in front of me. We were meant to be writing a poem called Myself. I picked up my pen.

“Today is my birthday,” I wrote. “I am ten.”

Something made me look up. Justin was sitting bolt upright, pen clenched in his fist. “What’s up with the new boy?” I whispered.

Pete shrugged and Hannah turned in her chair.

Justin stood slowly. He looked anxiously at James who nodded.

“What’s the matter, Justin?” Mrs Pickard looked concerned.

Justin swallowed audibly. “I-I want to change seats, please.”

“Change seats? What on earth for?” Mrs Pickard peered at his chair.

Justin shuffled his feet. “I-it’s the smell,” he muttered.

“Smell?” Mrs Pickard wrinkled her nose. “I can’t smell anything.”

“It’s your smell.” Despite his harsh words, Justin looked miserable. “I can’t stand the stink and I need to move.” He swallowed again. “Have you tried deodorant?”

Mrs Pickard’s mouth fell open and she immediately gathered her cardigan around herself.

“Shut up, Pete.” I hissed as the class began to snigger. James was laughing so hard he could barely keep his seat.

Justin looked wretched as Mrs Pickard fled from the room with tears in her eyes.

“Nice one!” James called. “You win.”

Justin turned and glared at me but I ignored him; there was a red balloon sliding along the window.

It was true that I had told Justin to take the dare, which probably got him in a great deal of trouble, but James was the one who had forced him to do it. Why was he mad at me? I opened my mouth to ask him and the office door opened.

“Miss Oh and Mr Hargreaves. Do come in. Again.”

“This is getting old, Miss Oh.” Mr Barnes shuffled papers on his desk and glared at me over his glasses. Did he think that made him look intelligent, intimidating? It just made me think he needed bifocals. The twit.

“I know that you have suffered a significant loss.” He paused respectfully. “But that was three years ago now and you have been given enough leeway.” He dropped the papers and slapped the desk with his palms. “Enough, do you understand?”

“Wait a minute,” I gasped as if the air in the room was thin. “How is this my fault? I was attacked. Look at me.” I gave a little kick and sand spattered the carpet.

“That’s as may be, Miss Oh, and I will be talking to the perpetrator afterwards. However, Mr Hargreaves was not your attacker, was he? I have witnesses who say you launched yourself at him with no provocation whatsoever.”

“He put him up to it. I heard.”

Mr Barnes raised his bushy eyebrows. “You specifically heard Mr Hargreaves tell Mr Fisher to steal your bag and push you in the sandpit?”

“I…”

“I didn’t think so.”

Mr Barnes shook his head. “Now, I don’t know what’s gone on between you two. A lovers’ spat, perhaps?” I choked, coughing sand out of my throat that I hadn't even realised was there. Justin remained in his semi-slouch, only a twitch of his fingertips showing his own reaction. Mr Barnes ignored me and continued. “I won’t have this bullying behaviour in my school.” Unbelievably he was looking at me.

“I–”

“I know you were also attacked, Miss Oh, but not by Mr Hargreaves. Apologise to him. Mr Fisher will be doing the same to you later on.”

Air huffed in and out of my nose, as if it was too offended to enter the lips that would have to betray me. I pressed my mouth closed and shook my head. “Miss Oh, for every three seconds you do not apologise, you will receive one day of detention.”

Justin looked at me and tilted his head, insolently waiting for my apology.

“One… two… three.”

I said nothing.

Mr Barnes shook his head and made a mark on his notebook. “One day of detention, Miss Oh. And again, one... two…”

I couldn’t risk it, the more time I spent in school, the more time the ghosts had to find me. My eyes traced movement on the courtyard, a man in a suit. Was he meant to be there?

Only my house was safe.

Then there was Hannah. She’d go spare if she had to sit on her own at break and lunch.

“I’m sorry,” I spat. The words were like poison on my tongue.

“Sorry for what?” Mr Barnes prompted.

My cheeks burned as if someone was holding a brand to my face. “I’m sorry that I attacked you, Justin.”

“That’s right.” Mr Barnes sat back with his hands across his stomach. “You know, I feel privileged to be at the helm of this school. Can you guess why?”

I shook my head, still burning and itching and hating him with every heartbeat. “This school has opportunities, Miss Oh. It isn’t like other institutions, where there is a single popular ‘gang’ in each year with everyone else excluded. I’ve seen people from different year groups ‘run together’, I’ve seen the unpopular suddenly become accepted, even admired. There are opportunities, Miss Oh, for the daring. For those brave enough to grasp them with both hands.”

Justin made his first noise, a cross between a hiccup and a gasp and I frowned at him. Mr Barnes was off on one of his aimless rants. Why was Justin bothered?

Mr Barnes removed his glasses and stared off into space. “This school has history, Miss Oh.” He leaned forward one more time, his eyes suddenly sharp. This time he was looking at Justin. “Qui audet vincit. Who dares wins. Isn’t that right, Mr Hargreaves?”

Justin swallowed, audibly. “That’s right, Mr Barnes.”

Mr Barnes nodded and put his glasses back on. “And there is nothing new under the sun, Miss Oh.” He tapped his paper. “Another detention for you. I’ll also be writing a letter to your father. I’ll expect his reply by return.”

“Taylor, I–” Justin’s voice contained some sort of apology and I wasn’t having that from him, no way.

“Leave me alone.” I slumped back on the sandy chair to wait for the letter that Mr Barnes was emailing to his secretary.

“Fine.” He strode past me without another look.

The chair next to me was occupied by Derek from the year below and I looked across, seeking an empathetic eye-roll. Even I had to admit that the boy was good looking: blemish-free skin, short dreadlocks and a jaw line so firm he could rock a mask and cape if he wanted to.

Today though, he was so pale he looked green and his hands clenched and unclenched in his lap endlessly, like creatures independent of the rest of him. He was hunched over his bag, his whole body tense: a jack-in-the-box ready to spring.

Unable to make any sort of eye contact I turned away. What had happened to him? Until a couple of weeks ago he was the Justin of his year group then suddenly he was even less popular than I was. Hannah told me that if he tried to speak to someone they turned their back on him. If he sat at a lunch table, everyone else got up and left. He had become a ghost in his own classroom.

“Hey.” I couldn’t not speak. “Are you OK?”

There was no reply and I was leaning back in my seat when suddenly he spoke. “How do you stand it?”

“Stand what?” I frowned.

“Being what you are. So ‘out’ with everyone.”

I inhaled sharply. “I have Hannah.”

“So you do.” His fingers twined in and out of themselves, the knuckles red raw. “I…”

“Yes?” I couldn’t help noticing how sunken his eyes were. It looked as if he hadn’t slept for weeks.

“I want to apologise. I was a dick to you. Just like everyone else. I know how it feels now.” He cleared his throat. “You’re stronger than I am, Oh.”

“Derek Anderson, Mr Barnes will see you now.”

“Listen,” I caught his arm. “You should eat lunch with me and Hannah.”

Derek snorted. “That’s nice of you, Oh. Especially considering, you know, everything. But it’s too late. I’m leaving.”

“In the middle of term?”

“I’ve got a transfer, I’m collecting my papers now. I’m out of here. This place is effed up!” He gave a smile as fake as plastic fruit. “Don’t let the bastards get you down, Oh.”

I dropped my hand and watched him go.

Hannah stood in the courtyard waiting for me and she wasn’t alone.

“Look who’s keeping me company,” she half sang.

“Pete.” My eyes widened, but still I nodded at him as I went to her side. He grunted wordlessly and moved away, disassociating himself.

I sighed and turned to Hannah. “You didn’t have to wait.” I shook more sand out of my waistband. Would I ever get rid of it all?

“Last period’s over. I’ll get the bus with you.”

Gratefully I stuck my arm through hers. Then I stopped and turned to our one-time friend. “You know, you could get the bus with us.”

Pete just looked at me.

“Like old times.”

“Right,” he sneered. “Those times you pretended to like me, or the ones you refused to talk to me?”

“That’s not fair.” Hannah leaped to my defence. “We were friends.”

Pete turned to Hannah. “Does she ever tell you what’s going on with her?”

Hannah blushed and avoided looking at me.

“I don’t know how you stand it, Han.” He rubbed his palm over the darker mahogany of his head. “How can you think she’s your friend if she won’t talk to you?”

“We talk,” Hannah snapped.

“Yeah sure. Look she’s zoned out on us already. Obviously not that interested.”

Pete's words had become a distant buzz, my focus shifted to the suited man striding across the flagstones. Was he living or dead?

The sun had moved and now the whole courtyard was in the shade so the first item on my mental checklist, to look for a shadow, was out. Pete and Hannah had their backs to him, so I couldn’t tell if they were able to see him or not. I had to assume he was a ghost.

I prepared to run, slipping my arm free of Hannah’s.

Pete caught my other elbow. “You think you’re better than us.”

“That’s not true.” I was forced to take my eyes off the approaching suit. “Let go, will you?”

Hannah still clung to one arm and Pete had the other. I was trapped.

The suit saw my predicament. His pace increased and he raised his head to look directly at me.

It was possible he needed to ask directions or something.

And it was about to rain kittens.

I had to get out of there. I tugged ineffectually at Pete, but he didn’t move. “Did you ever like me the way I liked you?” he suddenly asked.

“I… I…” I blinked up at him. “It was complicated. And this isn’t a good time.”

The businessman reached us and smiled. I grit my teeth and tensed, but he didn’t hesitate. He reached past Pete’s arm and grabbed my hand, pressing his palm on to my knuckles. My skin froze as if I’d held my hand to a block of ice and an almost electric shock shivered up my arm. Then a familiar black Mark spread across my tendons like spilled ink.

“Crap.” Immediately I yanked my hand free, terrified that I might accidentally touch my friend’s skin.

“You’re a cold bitch.” Pete swung around and strode away.

The words to stop him caught in my throat. Pete had been wavering, maybe even considering leaving Justin’s clique. Hannah and I could have had our friend back. Now he was gone again, utterly out of reach.

Venomously I glared at the ghost who had cost us our chance. Then I pulled away from Hannah who was staring after Pete with surprise.

“Did he just say he liked you?”

“It was a long time ago, when Mum was still around. I couldn’t go out with him.”

“I remember you had a lot going on.”

“Yeah.” The ghost drifted closer, wanting to speak to me. I pulled the white glove from my bag and tugged it over my hand.

“Hey, your eczema got bad fast!” Hannah caught at my wrist trying to see and I leaped back. I didn’t dare let her touch me in case she was accidentally branded. The thought of the Darkness coming for my best friend made me sick to my stomach.

“It’s OK, Han. Listen, I’ve got to be somewhere. I’ll call you later.”

Hannah nodded, but her face had fallen. She had waited for me, now she would have to go home alone.

Pete was right, Hannah put up with a lot from me and I wondered once more, with a shiver, how much longer she’d stick around.