Bryony Pearce - The Weight of Souls

“Come on, James.” It was Pete. He was leaning on the doorjamb. He deliberately avoided looking at me, but I just knew he was finally staging a rescue.

I couldn’t take it . Not from him .

My spine straightened, even as the splinters on the edge of the table pricked my thighs. “Yes, go on, Jimbo, Daddy’s waiting.”

My words made James’ lip twitch and he leaned further forward. Some part of me expected him to reveal fangs. The classroom faded away until there was only James with his huge body and stinking breath.

Then I heard Hannah squeak and Miss Carroll’s voice brought the room back into being. “Don’t you have another class to go to?”

I swallowed as James waited an insolent few seconds then stepped back. “Yes, Miss, on my way.”

Hannah grabbed my arm. Her shirt shivered with the thumping of her heart. “Are you alright?” she whispered.

“Of course.” I squeezed her elbow. “He’s a Neanderthal, you know that. Does whatever Justin wants.”

And that was the problem wasn’t it? Because Justin Hargreaves said so, I was fair game and no one had the guts to do anything about it.

It hadn’t always been this way. I’d once been part of a trio: Pete, Hannah and myself. All three of us were just a little bit different . Pete was the only black guy in the year, I was the only oriental and then there was Hannah. She was a pale - skinned Scot who wanted to be Willow from Buffy the Vampire Slayer . Her hair changed its hue two or three times a term in line with her mum’s boyfriends. We weren’t in any of the popular cliques, but we weren’t at the bottom of the pecking order either. We hovered somewhere in the middle, nobody bothered about us. We were just normal. And then… we weren’t. Or at least, I wasn’t.

I glanced out of the window, remembering. The clown had stood right there on the day my life had changed. The balloons that no other child could see had tangled just there, around the netball posts. I still heard the flap-slap of his shoes in my nightmares. I clenched my fist around the ghost of my first ever Mark, the one the dead joker had left when he had touched me. I had thought it was just black greasepaint until I realised that there was no washing it off. The clown had been the ghost to start it all.

Rage threatened to boil and I pushed the memory down, “parked it” as the counsellor I saw after the accident was fond of saying. I visualised the garage, the space where the images would sit waiting for their next outing.

Then I walked with Hannah out of the classroom.

“I don’t want to do this. Can’t you pick something else?”

The whine came from the common room. I tightened my grip on Hannah’s arm. “We shouldn’t get involved.”

“I know. Heads down.” Hannah dropped her eyes and we walked forward, prepared to ignore whatever was happening.

The group was clustered around a plastic table. What a surprise… Justin, Tamsin, James and Harley. Only Pete was missing.

Justin leaned nonchalantly against the table in the centre of the room. The rest of them had a boy from the year below pinned against a chairback. The kid looked terrified.

“You wanted in.” James jabbed him in the chest with a stiffened finger and I saw red.

“Taylor,” Hannah squeaked and tried to grab me, but I was already moving. I shoved my bag back at her.

“Leave him alone, you penis extension.”

Tamsin turned, already laughing. “ You want us to leave him alone?” She stroked a red nail across the boy’s cheek and I shuddered. “What do you want us to do, Alan? You want us to leave you alone?”

“I-I…” The boy’s collar moved with the bobbing of his Adam’s apple.

“You know what’ll happen, Alan.” James leaned in, menacing.

“He’s younger than you. Have some self-respect!” I clenched my fists.

Tamsin took a slow pace towards me. “You want to take his place, Godzilla?”

“Hey, no!” Alan grabbed her arm. “I’m in, I told you. I’ll do it, whatever you want.” He avoided my eyes. “She’s not taking my place.”

“That’s nice of you kid, but–”

“Go away, alright? Just go away.” Red spots decorated Alan’s cheeks as if he’d been slapped. Around the redness he was pale and scared.

“I can tell a teacher,” I murmured.

He shook his head violently. “I’m OK, don’t do anything.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You want these arseholes to harass you? Fine.” I spun on my heel and saw Justin’s supercilious grin. “You are such a tool,” I snapped at him.

Hannah was right behind me, ready to back me up like always. I grabbed my bag from her clenched fists, swung it over my shoulder and stalked towards the corridor. “Come on, Hannah, we’re late for science.”

Behind me I heard a sound like a growl. It was almost inhuman. I stopped and turned. Once more James was glowering at me, head lowered so his eyes were shadowed by his jutting brow. “Neanderthal,” I muttered, but I increased my pace.

“That class sucked.” Hannah shoved her hair out of her eyes and shuddered. She was sweating through her shirt. “I hate physics. I loathe it. Seriously, how can you stand it?”

I snorted while I quickly checked the courtyard for anyone out of place.

“Honestly, I thought my brain was going to explode.” Hannah pressed her hands on either side of her head, little orange tufts of hair sticking out between her fingers. “I have a headache. I need to go to the office.”

“You mean because it’s a double lesson and we’ve got it again after lunch?”

“I’d forgotten. I’ll die. I’ll literally drop dead from an aneurysm.”

I burst out laughing. She looked so wretched. Hannah in drama mode was always funny. Not that she saw it that way.

“Come on, Han,” I sighed. “If it makes you feel better I’m going to fail that class too.”

“Stop laughing, you cow . It doesn’t make me feel better. You and exams are a disaster. You break my heart. I’m going to get drugs, lots of drugs.”

“Good luck with that.” I shoved her gently in the direction of the office. “I’ll see you later. Usual spot?”

Hannah nodded carefully as if she really was worried that a sudden movement would topple her head from her shoulders. I watched her totter away, smiled and swung my bag higher on my shoulder. The sun was trying to burn through the clouds; I’d eat outside and get in our “spot” early. Way better than running the gauntlet of the common room and eating alone in a room full of cliques.

I was sitting with my legs in the weak sunshine, enjoying the feel of the rays on my shins. My sandwich had gone soggy in my lunchbox, but I was picking the filling out and eating it between crisps. The wall of the art room was warming my back and I had a clear view of the courtyard. Hannah wasn’t keeping me company, but my hands were clean of dead men’s Marks, there was no sign of anything out of the ordinary and I was feeling relatively alright with the world.

I looked down to pick some more cucumber from my sandwich and a shadow fell over me.

I caught my breath; had I missed a ghost?

No. I forced my shoulders to relax, ghosts don’t cast shadows.

I glanced up. It was the boy from earlier: Alan.

“Hey,” I grunted, but he said nothing and didn’t move. “What’s up?”

He took a deep breath and crouched next to me. “Sorry about this,” he whispered.

“Huh?” I had time to get my legs half under me, but that just had me off balance when he shoved me, hard. I teetered for a second then fell on my side, dropping my lunch into the dust and twisting my wrist under my hip. Shock froze me for a moment, long enough for him to grab my bag and run for it.