Eight.

I watch the shadows disappear into the watery light of another day. I don't think I can get out of bed. My head is full of cotton wool and barbed wire. My legs ache enough to make me believe they've given up. I watch the numbers glowing on my clock slowly climb. My alarm goes off. I turn it off. I watch the numbers climb.

I can't even blame the night before. I'd been in bed before eleven. Asleep minutes later.

There's a knock on my door. Mum's beaming face appears, as rare as a real diamond around these parts. I doubt it's genuine.

She brings in two steaming cups of tea and perches on the edge of my bed, handing one over to me. "You got school today?"

A stupid question seeing as it's Friday.

I lie anyway. "I've got free periods till lunch."

"Ah, okay." She hands over my cup and wraps her hands around hers, getting comfier. "How've you been?"

I struggle to sit up, my joints feel like they're crumbling. "I'm okay."

She must have some motherly instinct because she tips her head to one side and narrows her muddy brown eyes. My eyes. "Are you sure? You look a little tired."

"I'll be fine," I say, sharper than I need to.

She reaches over and squeezes my foot. "You know I'm here if you need to talk."

I know that if she was, she wouldn't have to tell me that.

"Thanks, Mum," I say, hoping this will be enough to pacify her attempts at concern.

It does. "Will you be here all day … only Marcus is coming around later."

"Marcus?" Saying his name brings his smell of pine needles and damp soil to me as if he's already here. It's always the same, as if he's walked through a graveyard on his way over. Either that or crawled out of one. I hate his visits the most.

She smiles right through to her eyes. "We're going to give it another go. He came over and we talked through what went wrong. He wants to try again."

I drain my tea, burning my tongue, and get out of bed. Flight kickstarted by a nasty combination of anger at her and fear for her. "I'd better get ready."

"I thought you didn't have to go in yet?"

"Yeah, but I've got some studying to do. Might as well get it done sooner rather than later."

"You don't have to do that." She reaches out again, but I can see she's doing her best not to shove me out the door herself. Marcus is her kryptonite. He's anthrax under my tongue.

"It's okay," I say, and tell myself I won't worry about her, but it's already burrowing under my skin, grinding my teeth. He must want something. I have to work out what.

AN: Hearts-in-eyes to Kim for looking over this for me. Thanks to all of you for reading xx

Some Brit speak translations for my last few chapters - sorry I missed them - my fav GranmaDee spotted them for me.

council estate : houses and accommodation owned by the local authorities (state) and rented out cheap.

Head: Principal

talking ten to the dozen: talking really really fast!

Form: like Homeroom (I think!)

common room: a place where only the Sixth Form kids can hang out between lessons/ at break/lunch

Hope that helps - PM me if I missed any others.