The sounds of multiple conversations fill the tightly packed canteen. Countless different social groups discuss countless different topics, mostly out of my earshot. My friends fade in and out of focus as I halfheartedly attempt to keep my eyes open. It's the Monday lunch break, and I can hardly stay awake.
"Hey Indie, are you even alive in there?" calls Brenda. Her hand is frantically waving in front of my face. I nod groggily.
"Aww, come on, this ain't like you," Winston adds. "Frypan's the one who can't do Mondays, not you."
The whole table turns to my right, where Frypan's face is pressed against the table top, arms folded over head. The clamour of the hall somehow manages to mask his deep rumbling snores.
The harsh sound of the school bell signifies the start of what will surely be a painfully dull afternoon. Reluctantly, everyone in the room pushes back their chairs and moves to the door. A wave of students surges down the corridor, and I'm swept along unwillingly. Managing to fight my way out of the mob when I reach my locker, I start to prepare for my next lesson.
Suddenly a hand clasps my shoulder. Biting back a yell, I spin around. Newt. It's Newt.
"What the shuck are you doing here?" I shout.
He grimaces. "You remember what I called ya about yesterday, yeah?" I nod, and he continues. "Well, ya didn't give me a chance to explain-"
"Whatever. I'm not helping you and your slinthead friends. Why the hell do you suddenly care about good grades anyway? What kind of stupid thing is that to be caring about, especially for someone like you? And why can't you just put the work in yourself?" I demand.
Newt sighs. "You don't understand. It's not like that. I'm failin' everything, I only ask for your help with one grade. If you quit the group, the Rat-Man will fail the rest of us. I wouldn't care but... My dad, see... I can't go back to England..."
What is this? Can he not just put some work in himself? Why do I need to do his work for him? "You can go back to England for all I care," I declare. "Just shuck off and leave me alone."
His face pales. "Aw, come on! It's nearly the holiday. We'll get our grades soon - almost all of them have already been decided. I've already got klunk for grades in every other subject. This is my last chance! Just...could you please hear me out?"
"What's so bad about England? You tell me that and maybe I'll think about it." I decide. I might as well just hear what he has to say, right?
Obviously relieved, Newt's slight smile appears. "Okay. After school, meet me by the Deadheads."
The Deadheads is the large, somewhat spooky forest near the school. Weird stuff is said to go on in there. I raise my eyebrows. "The Deadheads? Is that so you can easily bury my body when we've established that I'm not gonna help?"
Newt chuckles and walks off, soon becoming lost in the crowd.
"What was that about?" Brenda mutters. She has suddenly appeared at my shoulder.
"I don't even know," I sigh. And I don't.
***
Somehow I made it through the rest of the rest of the day without falling asleep. Now, I stand on the verge of the Deadheads. Walking towards me is the person who told me to come here. The person who is also late for the meeting he was so desperate for.
"Your late," I say, stating the obvious.
He rolls his eyes. "I said meet me after school. As far as I'm aware, that's not a specific time."
What a great start. He's already irritating me. And, I guess, I'm already irritating him. "So, what did you wanna tell me."
"I just wanted to persuade you that I can't go back to England," he replies.
"I came all the way here for that?"
"Yeah. How else was I gonna tell ya?"
"I dunno, maybe a phone call?"
"But it's more complicated than that!"
"How is it more complicated that that?"
"It's personal! This is personal stuff I have to tell you!"
"Ah, like what, some fear of leaving your friends? Leaving Kizzi, maybe?"
"You don't understand! I haven't told anyone this klunk! No one! I'm only doing this 'cause I have to!"
"Well get on with it and tell me then!"
Our voices have gotten louder and louder until I practically shouted the last word. It's sort of like a stand off in a cowboy movie, questions and answers being shot like bullets. Now is the ceasefire. We stand opposite each other, about ten paces apart. Slowly, I sit down. Partly to show submission, partly because I know that what he's about to tell me might take a while to explain. Following my lead, he shuffles forward and sits close to me of the hard ground.
"You know I went away for a year back when I was thirteen, I assume," he begins. "Well, I went to England. Home. My father wanted me to experience a 'proper English school'. It was definitely that, I suppose. Those ancient big buildings became my second home. I boarded there - that means I lived there. I ate, slept and worked with the boys I was there with. The first couple of weeks were fine, I guess. It was only later that it got really bad."
He pauses, grimacing, as if reminiscing the year causes him physical pain. "I don't really know what went wrong. I just didn't seem to fit in. I certainly wasn't liked. Actually, I was hated. I was the nerdy kid who couldn't play rugby. I wasn't even smart enough to make up for it. Sucks that they don't play American football over there, maybe I could've done a little bit better. Anyway, I was the outcast. The weirdo. I had enough of an American twang for that to be an issue as well. I was just different, and they didn't really like different."
Another pause. His gaze shifted to the sky as he figured out what to say next. "It started with names. Insults. Mockery. That dumb stuff that almost every kid has to experience. But it was later that the physical stuff came along. Punches, that sorta thing. All the things you see in movies, head down the toilet and stuff, I got that. I was the joke, the laughing stock. My dad refused to take me out, told me I just had to toughen up. It continued, it got worse. Every day I went to bed wishin' I wouldn't see another. Somewhere along the line, I just couldn't take it anymore. The buildings were big and old, like I said. Tall, pretty tall. So I decided I had to do it. I walked to the top one evening, and I fell back down."
His eyes are glazed with brimming tears. I can tell that the story's over. I can't believe what he just told me. I certainly can't unhear it. I don't feel like I have a choice now, I have to help him. But...what kind of father would send him back there?
"Why is your dad sending you back? After all you've been through, he'd surely at least send you to a different school," I say.
Newt stares at me. "Didn't I tell you I haven't told anyone?"
"What? Your own parents don't know? How could you not tell your own parents? How did they not know, surely the school told them?"
"Yeah, but I said I fell. I told everyone that I just slipped and fell. I don't have the best relationship with my parents. They...well, my dad would just be ashamed."
I feel so indescribably sorry for him. "I'll do it. I'll help you. Just I'll do it myself - no way am I going back to Minho's house again. Ever."
Newt grins, a smile so bright you would've thought I just bought him the country. "Deal."
We shake hands.
"You won't... You won't tell anyone, will you? It's just...ya know..."
"I'm not gonna tell anyone. Don't worry about it," I reassure him. As he stands up I remember his limp. When he returned from England, his leg was in a cast. I shudder to think how painful that was, but the reason he acquired it is even worse.
We start to walk back down the dirt track we used to get here. The sound of laughter up ahead makes Newt freeze. "Um, actually, ya probably shouldn't walk back this way..." he mumbles.
"This is the only way!" I reply, carrying on walking.
"No, Indie, really-"
As I round the corner, I am faced with Minho, Teresa, Kizzi, Ben and Lex. All of them are smoking something...shuck. No. I don't believe this. Drugs. They're doing drugs.
Kizzi looks up and notices me and Newt. Her eyes widen in shock. "Newt! Babe! Why is she with you? What were you doing in the woods, babe? You weren't... BABE?!"
Newt swears under his breath. "Nah, love! Course not! I was just persuading her to...ya know, help us out with the project. To do it for us."
Minho laughs, then saunters up to us brandishing unused marijuana. "Care for a joint?"
I push his arm out of the way. I'm completely gobsmacked. This is not Lex. Lex wouldn't do something like this. I simply stare at her, unable to comprehend the situation.
"Watcha looking at?" Lex slurs. Her hands are full; weed in one, cheap vodka in the other. Only now do I notice the broken bottles scattered across the ground, and the full ones yet to be drunk.
I am so angry. Lex wants to be a surgeon. She wants to get a degree. She wants to do things with her life. This is not her. "What are you doing?" I mutter.
"Nah, Indie. What are you doing? You're not my mum. You're not even my friend. Can't you just leave me alone? Get out of my life!" She replies drunkenly. The others snigger.
I start to walk towards Lex, fury pulsing through my veins: how dare she? A hand clamps around my wrist, restraining me. I shake my arm to no avail.
"Come on, Indie, walk past. Ignore her. She's drunk and stoned," Newt says. He drags me past the giggling druggies, pulling me through the trees. Half of me is glad that he isn't letting me near them. The other half wants to walk up to Lex and slap her round the face. Hard.
Just as they're behind me, Lex talks again. "Yeah, you leave. And don't come back, slinthead!"
I break out of Newt's grip, spin around, and sprint right up to Lex. Then I slap her with all my force. "That should wake you up, Lex. Open your eyes. I'm not the slinthead here."
Then I turn around. I turn and run. I run past Newt, and I don't stop running until I'm out of the woods, past the school, and in the streets. "Shuck off Newt," I say to the person next to me. "Those are your friends. Does this mean you're a druggie too? An alcoholic, maybe?"
"Back off! Just 'cause my friends take drugs doesn't mean I do too. I should be back there, ya know, with my friends. I ran all this way after you to make sure you're okay! And because, well, I hate seeing them high. You alright?"
"Yeah... It's just a shock seeing Lex like that. I'm not really all that surprised your lot do it, though. You can go now, if you want. I don't think you're wonderful girlfriend back there wants you hanging around me." I reply. I need some time alone. Only the other day, me and my friend were doing what we always did. Today that same friend hates me. She is also now a user. I hate the world.
"Okay, then. Bye, Indie. See ya round." Newt answers. I watch as he retreats down an alley to the left, a shortcut to the super rich part of the city. I walk down the same road I walk down every day after school, longing for home.
I don't understand what's wrong with the world.
