Bryony Pearce - The Weight of Souls

“What just happened?” I shouted; then I leaped up and sprinted after him.

My feet flew across the concrete and my skirt flipped up to my thighs. I could run, so the stupid kid didn’t stand a chance. Despite my confusion I was almost enjoying the chase. Alan cut across the grass, heading for the athletics track. My bag bumped against his back, shedding pens and books like Hansel in the forest. I’d pick them up later. Right now I wanted my hands on the little toad.

All my attention was on the fleeing junior; the redness on his neck, the hammer of his trainers on the hard-packed earth. Around us our classmates were stopping what they were doing and pointing, starting to laugh. I didn’t care.

I was almost caught up with him when I passed the storage shed next to the long jump pit.

My foot caught on something that hadn’t been there when Alan scampered past. I careered forward, my arms spinning as I tried to keep my balance. Then a brutal shove caught me from behind and I literally flew off my feet.

I smashed face first into the sandpit.

I didn’t even have time to cry out. The grains abraded my face like sandpaper and crammed my mouth and nose. They stung my chest like carpet burn, and padded out my shirt. My already-twisted wrist shrieked with pain and I lay there stunned and unable to move, wondering what had happened.

Then something hit my back and I pushed myself up, spitting grit. Alan stood above me, shaking my bag upside down to empty it. Once more the Lillets spilled out, this time pattering onto my bare legs.

Rage almost blinded me and my ears rang, but still I could hear the laughter. I turned and there they were, James and Harley, holding onto each other so they weren’t floored by their own hilarity. Over by the track Justin and Tamsin stood holding hands and grinning like idiots.

I flashed to Alan in the common room with Justin’s gang trying to get him to do something.

That did it.

I flew out of the sandpit, shedding fine grains like a rattlesnake. I covered the ground in seconds and threw myself at Justin, wrapping my hands around his throat.

I still had sand in my mouth, so I spat it at him while cursing and trying to throttle the superior look off his face.

Distantly I heard Tamsin shrieking and hands closed around my upper arms, pulling me free.

“You think this is funny?” I yelled. “You still think it’s funny?”

Everything had gone red. I kicked and fought against whoever had me in his grip.

“Calm down, Tay.” It was Pete’s voice in my ear with the name he hadn’t used in years. Where had he come from? I drooped in his hold and looked around. The whole school had to be watching.

My scratched skin started to throb and my cheeks burned.

“Can’t control herself.” Tamsin’s delighted voice blowtorched through my daze. “Typical foreigner. Just attacked us for no reason.”

I was about to blow sky high when I heard Miss Carroll. “No reason, Tamsin? Then why are her things all over the sandpit? Justin, obviously she blames you and I’m sure she has good cause. I’m getting sick of having to do this, but both of you come with me to see Mr Barnes. Again.”

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?”