2. Change the record.

"Robin you'll be late for school if you don't get up this instant!" my mother shouts through the door. I roll my eyes and pull myself into the waking world. Sometimes I ask myself why I chose to stay at school for A levels. I could be out there in some place other than Stokely, working for a living. Probably as a plumber, like dad and the twins. I suppose that's the reason why then. School may well be a joke, but sticking my head down blocked toilets and squeezing out gunked up pipes sounds like kind of a gross way to spend most of my life.

I shove my school books into my bag and sling it over my shoulder, opening my room door and stepping out into the colourful world of the rest of my house. There's no time for breakfast. These days we have to be carted to school in the campervan, even though it's only me and Chloe that still go to school and it's about ten minutes walk away. Screw the environment; apparently hooded teenagers have turned Stokely into a Welsh version of Sunnydale. That means we can't be trusted to walk the empty streets.

"Have a nice day!" sings my mam as Chloe and I jump down from the van to the pavement outside school. No weeds grow here. The school is a clean and tidy gem in an otherwise dark and overgrown town. Mr Renfield, the caretaker, is entirely to blame for this. It's like he was a slave in his past life or something. The guy is so subservient, so compulsively good at his caretaking duties. I remember when he first started, a small while after I lost that year of my life. He nearly got fired. He actually put cobwebs everywhere. No kidding. The guy has a screw loose. It wasn't until the Headmistress explained to him that he had to keep cobwebs away that he started to become good at his job.

I ruffle my nose up as I walk past the caretaker's office towards the lockers. Despite all his best efforts, Mr Renfield has never managed to get rid of that fetid week-old sweat smell, and for that reason everyone tends to give him a wide-birth.

I open out my locker and catch a folded piece of paper that falls out and circles towards the floor. Turning my head one way down the corridor and then the other, I smooth the paper between finger and thumb. No evidence of the author. I unfold it and slowly close my locker. The writing is hurried and hard to read, spidery across the page.

I've got no time to find you. I'm not sure where it is you eat lunch these days, or what your number is. Wait at the payphone at the roundabout near Station Road. Lunchtime today.

That's all it says. I flick the paper over to see if there's any clue of who wrote it. There is none. The bell splits into the air and my head clicks back into reality. The corridor is busy and hot, filled with the morning rush. I open out my locker again to pick up the books I need for first period.

First and second period click by. Break time comes and I stalk over to the bench at the back of school where no one hangs out. I'm munching through a Penguin biscuit bar when I notice movement. My eyes go up and see Chloe walking out towards me. Great. That's all I need.

"Go away, Chloe," I scowl.

"I've told you, it's not healthy for you to be here, eating away from everybody. It's not good to be away from people so much."

"Blah blah. Change the record."

"I'm serious!"

I shake my head and shrug, taking the final bite of Penguin.

"What's eating you?"

"I'm eating a penguin. Nothing is eating me. What do you reckon penguins actually taste like, for real?" I crumple up the wrapper and chuck it at the bin. It misses by miles. Never was a good shot. Chloe makes a throaty sigh and stands up to pick up the wrapper and place it into the bin.

"Mr Renfield overworks himself enough as it is, without you going about littering the place up."

"Whatever," I shrug. Chloe stands in front of me with her arms crossed over her chest and one brow raised high.

"Come on, spill. What's on your mind?"

I grit my teeth together and let my eyes hover off. They hit the castle up on the hill. I slide my eyes back onto Chloe's and cave in.

"It feels like there is this huge thing missing in my brain," I start by saying. Chloe raises her other brow and sits beside me.

"I've often thought that there's a huge thing missing from your brain," she jokes. I tut and shake my head.

"I'm talking about the amnesia."

"I have it too, you know Robin. Maybe not as severe. But I have the same thing. You don't see me sulking around hating everybody. So what, there's some hazy gaps in one year of our lives? Move on. Deal with it."

"Go away if you're just going to insult me. I've tried moving on. It didn't work." I swallow down and dip my head. "I don't think I can move on until I get the straight."

"The straight? What does that even mean? You don't just look funny anymore. You've started to talk funny too."

"The straight. The whole story. I can't move on until these gaps have been filled." I lick my lips and look up towards my sister, reading her focused expression.

"How do you intend to fill them?" she asks.

"I'm not sure yet."

"I think it's a good idea. You are stagnating. It's time to kick your life into line." She flicks her gaze down and then back up to mine. "But keep me in the loop. Please, Robin. You're my big brother and I… I worry about you. I don't like you always being off by yourself."

"Well don't worry about me. I've gotten used to it."

"That maybe so, but please talk to me. Don't freeze me out like you have done with everyone else." My eyes slide down to the floor, my mouth is muted. The bell for third sings out and Chloe rises to her feet fluidly.

"Maybe I'll catch you at lunch," she says.

"I'll see you after school. I'm not around at lunch."

"Meeting friends?" she asks cuttingly. I pull a face but don't say anything. "Whatever. See you later," she snaps before pacing off towards the main school.

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(Chapter 3 should be up and ready to read by now)