Waheyyy update!
Sorry about the big gap – I've had too much in my head.
As I don't really know which years different students are in, I'm making them up for Alyssa's year.
Enjoy!
Funnily enough, I found Dafydd had actually reached the Head's office before myself and my sister, even though he'd gone outside, and taken what I presumed was a longer route. I didn't let it bother me though – maybe he'd got talking to one of the other students who had shown him a short-cut.
Mrs. Fisher seemed to be a genuinely lovely person, though Amina told me later that she thought the Head had sad eyes and had been through too much hardship. I didn't question her ability to judge the personalities of others, it was almost expected, given Amina's own personality.
After being given our timetables and a map of the school, the three of us left Mrs. Fisher's office together. I headed to the Geography room, where, joy of all joys, I was to be taught by my dad. Amina was in Art, and Dafydd seemed to vanish into thin air.
I got to my lesson about 15 minutes late, but wasn't told off for it – it was my dad, and anyway, I'd been with Mrs. Fisher. The class was in the middle of a discussion, but not a very structured one, and it definitely had nothing to do with Geography!
I knew my father's teaching methods. For his first lesson with a new class, he liked to get to know them, so the students were taking it in turns to say a little bit about themselves. The person speaking as I walked in the room didn't pause as I took my seat at the back, but winked at me as I squeezed in the gap between his seat and the table behind him.
"Michael van der Roose. 15, single, straight," he said this last staring right at me. To be honest, I wasn't the slightest bit interested in him. His hair was too short, he had too many scars, his eyes were too far apart and he was too cocky. Not my type.
The class tittered a bit at his last little remark but my dad's stern gaze soon quietened everyone down. Great, I thought – here it comes – and I braced myself for the next embarrassing scene.
"Ok," Dad started. "Let's see – Alyssa, you're the only person that hasn't spoken yet. Tell us about yourself."
I was about to open my mouth to speak, but before I could form any words, the boy who was speaking as I came in, Michael, butted in – "Wait – You two know each other? Wonder what's been going on there eh?" As he intended, the class erupted into peals of laughter, but I stayed calm.
"Yeah, actually, he's my dad," I said coolly. This didn't quite have the reaction I'd expected. I was waiting for the usual jeers about how I'd get good grades or insults, but nobody seemed to really care. Predictably, Michael then threw in his offer to 'get to know me better' but I refused just as the bell went.
"Right," Dad said from the front of the classroom. "Next lesson I want you all to bring in a magazine you don't mind cutting up. We're doing a richer-poorer exercise. See you all then!"
As the students filed out of the classroom, I felt a hand link in mine. I sighed, thinking it was Michael, but when I turned around to yell at him, saw it was only Amina.
"Are you okay?" I asked her with growing suspicions that something was wrong. Her face was pulled tight with worry, and I didn't like seeing my little sister so upset.
Amina just shook her head and tried to tug me down the corridor in the opposite direction to where I needed to go.
"Look – just tell me what's wrong!" I demanded, but when I saw her flinch from my angry tone, I instantly apologised. "It can't be that bad?"
"Just come with me. I need to show you something," she spoke at last, her voice little more than a whisper.
I followed the gentle pull of my sister's hand all the way to a little storage room. She whispered: "I found this on my way to Art earlier."
Amina swung open the door with trepidation, leading me to believe that something would jump out at me or scare the living daylights from my body. But all there was was… Well I'm not entirely sure. There was a huge pile of clothes, but that didn't seem too extreme. After all, it was near the Art department. Maybe the shirts were used as painting overalls.
"What is it exactly I'm supposed to be looking at?" I asked, more than a little confused.
"It's… It's gone!" Amina gasped. "But that's not possible – I checked…" I cut her off before she could continue rambling. Something was moving in the stock cupboard!