The Troubled Collection E-Book

K T Bowes

• Herausgeber: K T Bowes
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

They might live in Paradise, but bad stuff still finds them. Romance isn't easy. Not when they're sixteen. 

Finally, these four popular teen novels are together in a collection.
Based in a New Zealand high school, the stories follow the plight of its students as they pick their way through love and circumstance. 

The stories in this set:

Free From the Tracks
Sophia looks from the outside like a girl who has it all. But her world is crumbling around her and only one person notices. The boy who sees her misery is the one who'll put her in the most danger. He's been warned off before, but this time, he'll ignore it.

Sophia's Dilemma
If they thought life would go smoothly once they became a couple, they were mistaken. As Dane becomes a suspect in a murder enquiry, an overheard conversation detonates his relationship with Sophia.

A Trail of Lies
Callister's home life is complicated and confusing. She's always felt like an outsider in her own home. As her mother's mental stability collapses, she tells her something which will turn her into a teenage runaway. Trouble is, she's taking the boy-next-door onto the mountain with her.

Gone Phishing
The teenagers' journeys merge when Declan and Callister try to help Sophia rescue her father from a romantic internet scam. Edgar plans to sink his life savings into a relationship with a woman he's never physically met. The teens need to prove the whole thing is a scam, before Dane and Sophia are separated forever.

Download this collection now and put some time aside for yourself. Travel to New Zealand for a while.

Leseprobe

The Troubled Series

by

K T Bowes

Free From the Tracks

Book 1

Troubled Series

K T Bowes

Copyright K T Bowes © 2013

Published by Hakarimata Press

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

From the Author

Join our In Crowd

Acknowledgement

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Please can you help me?

Sophia’s Dilemma

Acknowledgement

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Please help me?

A Trail of Lies

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Dear Reader

Gone Phishing

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Reviews

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Last Chance

Disclaimer

From the Author

Some of these characters have a sense of being real because I grew up with them, but they are fictional. Repeated a million times over in life, they would never recognise themselves, anyway; nobody believes themselves to be that wicked. There is no specific person who could say ‘that’s me’, because I’ve merged all the worst character traits of the most awful people I came across in my torturous journey through school. You know these people. I imagine you already naming them in your head. You may sit in a classroom with someone whose circumstances are just like Dane’s without even realising it.

The scars are not always on the outside.

I write about the places I know and so they exist, but perhaps with different names and geographical features. But it’s worth remembering that this is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Additional note from the author

When I wrote this novel almost a decade ago, there were no schools on that side of the river further north than Hukanui Road. Since then, the education ministry have built numerous primary schools and a high school. The high school is in the exact location where I imagined the school in this series to exist.

Sometimes fiction becomes the reality.

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Acknowledgement

This book is dedicated to my Sophia, who inspires me.

Chapter One

Desperate Measures

“I do understand, Sophia, but I can’t help you. It’s against the rules to discuss another patient’s medical records. Unless there’s something else I can do for you, our consultation is over.”

The girl continued to sit in the red plastic chair, a look of determination etched into her dark features. Shaped as though crafted by someone with a love of fine china, her eyes were dark brown and rimmed with long lashes. The flared irises looked as black as coal, flashing with a mixture of anger and despair. The dull, middle aged man opposite her shifted in his chair with discomfort, sweat beading on his forehead. He eyed the girl with concern as her rigid hands plucked at the tartan fabric of her school skirt. “What about your health, Sophia? Is there something I can help you with?”

She shook her head and brushed away threatening tears with the back of her hand. She uncrossed her legs and the doctor spied a ladder in her navy school tights. It ran from a nick near the ankle. He pulled his gaze away, wary of showing too much interest in case she misinterpreted his intentions.

“Goodbye, Sophia. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.” The doctor shook her hand and closed the door behind her, relieved at having despatched her without hysterics. He turned to his computer, intending to log his concerns on Sophia Armitage’s medical notes, but the telephone trilled from the desk and drove the young girl’s plight clean from his mind.

Sophia blundered into the corridor and hurried towards the green exit sign. She kept her head down and her fringe cloaking her face like so many teenagers in hiding. She prayed nobody in the busy waiting room noticed her sparkling, tear-filled eyes as she struggled to suppress the agony building in her chest. Her stomach ached as fear chased her appetite away and she rubbed a hand over her ribs. A girl from her school read a magazine near the nurse’s room and glanced up as Sophia passed. Glancing with interest at the way Sophia’s hand pressed over her stomach, a smirk lit her lips. Sophia withdrew her fingers and lifted her school bag like a shield of protection. The last thing she needed was a rumour of pregnancy to rip through the school.

Focussing on the green exit sign, Sophia picked up her pace. She’d used her dwindling cash to pay for the doctor’s visit and would need to wait for the cheaper bus due in ten minutes. Or walk home.

“Watch out!” Strong fingers caught her upper arms as Sophia barrelled straight into someone. Her nose bumped a solid chest and the wind exited her lungs in a gasp of pain. The scent of cigarettes and chewing gum rose in a haze around her face. The heavy school bag swung from her shoulder and pitched them both sideways.

“Sorry,” she gasped from beneath the safe harbour of her fringe.

“Can’t you see?” Olive fingers brushed her hair back from her forehead and exposed her to a scrutiny she didn’t want. The other hand remained clutching her arm.

“I can see just fine!” Sophia shook her head and the dark curls tumbled behind her shoulder, but not before she recognised the scuffed shoes of her rescuer. “Oh, no!” she hissed beneath her breath. A shiver of fear ran up her spine and stole her next sentence. She stared at the familiar, ragged, leather shoes, the ripped laces tied in a haze of frayed material. The company the shoes kept could prove lethal.

“Are you okay?” His voice held an element of command and Sophia writhed inside her skin. She translated the panic into action and tugged at her arm. “Did I hurt you?” He sounded concerned and didn’t release her. The school bag rested against her shin.

“I’m fine. Can you let go now?” Sophia raised her gaze to acknowledge a boy who struck terror into her male classmates and adoration in the deluded females. As her dark eyes locked onto his brilliant blue irises, the door to their left whipped open and a disembodied hand proceeded out. A piece of paper flapped between them like a truce flag. Sophia stared as the white, fluffy head and stooped shoulders of a man followed it.

“Ah, good, you didn’t get far. You forgot your prescription, Dane. I kept you talking.” Dane released Sophia’s arm to accept the proffered paper. He muttered quiet thanks, folded the prescription into a small square and fitted it into his front pocket. The doctor cocked his head and frowned. Sophia cringed beneath his scrutiny. “Are you here to see me, Soph?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine, Uncle Paul.” Sophia bit her lip and scrunched her body against Dane’s, attempting to shield herself against the hurt in the eyes of her mother’s friend.

“Oh, okay.” The doctor looked back at Dane and raised his eyebrows with interest. “Oh, right.” He nodded, reaching the wrong conclusion. With a smile, he retreated and pushed his door closed behind him.

“No!” Sophia raised her palm against the inference, but the door clicked shut in her face. She closed her eyes in defeat and tried not to release her misery as anger. The alternative was crying and if she got started, she doubted she could stop. Everything caught up with her; the nervous wait for her appointment, paying money she couldn’t afford, the doctor’s easy dismissal of her concerns and the wasted hour of her life she’d never get back. And the problem still existed. A massive, insurmountable, overwhelming problem she didn’t have the resources to fix.

An escaped tear made a dash for freedom, taking a trail of cheap foundation and mascara with it. Sophia sensed herself being swept along on a never-ending tide of humiliation. The strong, olive fingers linked around her left wrist and rose with her arm as she swiped at the tears which followed the first in its betrayal.

“What’s up?” Dane demanded.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Sophia hissed.

“Yeah, you look it.” Dane McArdle released his grip and used the sleeve of his school pullover to wipe Sophia’s cheek. The scratchy material matched hers but smelled of deodorant and boy. The frayed cuff and strands of wool tickled her cheeks and nose, making her want to sneeze. He lifted her chin with his index finger and Sophia felt powerless. He didn’t dab with caution but swiped the tears away like she was a stricken five-year-old.

“Thanks.” She pulled her head away, scrubbing at her face with her own fingers. Black mascara streaked her hands.

“You’re welcome.” Dane quirked his lips up on one side in a half-smile and regarded Sophia with interest. His brow furrowed and released as he waited for her to return his gaze. But he didn’t move, forcing her to look up at him if she wanted to escape.

Sophia collected herself and gave her shoulders a shake. She forced a smile onto her lips and squared her shoulders. Her gaze darted to the girl waiting to see the nurse. Relief coursed through her as she saw the empty seat and her shoulders slumped.

“Never worry about what other people think.” Dane lowered his voice. “They’re like cows.” His strong fingers rested on her shoulders and he squeezed the soft flesh in a comforting motion.

“Cows?” Sophia looked up in confusion and he laughed.

“They stare a bit, chew a bit and moo a bit,” he replied. “Come on.” He stuffed one hand into the pocket of his long grey pants and hoisted Sophia’s heavy bag with the other. “Just keep walking and don’t get eye contact.” He nudged her towards the waiting room before she could object. Sophia focussed on his flapping laces as they hurried through, her heart pounding in her chest. Dane steered her along the long corridor and onto the street. The automatic doors swished open in front of them and sunlight bathed the pavement. Shoppers wandered in and out of the supermarket next door and Sophia heaved in the fresh summer air. She held her hand out for her bag.

“Thank you.” Nerves made her swallow halfway through the words and a faint blush lit her cheeks. The sound of air brakes by the bus stop grabbed her attention and she snatched at the bag again. “My bus!” she squeaked. Fate cursed her for the second time that afternoon as the bus pulled away from the stop and lumbered onto the main road. “Damn!”

Dane’s eyes narrowed as Sophia glanced at her feet. Plasters covered the toes nestled inside her school shoes. Missing the bus promised a walk of a few short kilometres from the Rototuna suburb to her house in Flagstaff, but her new shoes would make her suffer for every footstep.

Dane nudged her shoulder, watching traffic merge at the exit to the car park. “Let’s go next door for coffee and then I’ll drive you home.”

Sophia panicked, shaking her head and dragging her bag from his muscular shoulder. “I’m fine. Thanks.” She hefted her bag and dug her hand into her pocket, hoping she’d misjudged her cash flow problem and could take the other bus. The dollar coin and twenty cent pieces weren’t enough and they both knew it. The ball of blue-blazer fluff attached to them made it even more pathetic.

Dane cocked his head to one side like a bird and narrowed his eyes. “You don’t want me to know where you live.”

It was a statement not a question. Sophia gulped and the overwhelming sadness returned, threatening to engulf her as her problems mounted. She lowered head with a sigh and her neck arched until it hurt. “It’s not that.”

“Then don’t be stupid.” Dane took her arm and hauled her into the café next door, leaving her in front of the chiller to choose a cold drink. The bottles stood in neat rows like a battalion of gaudy, coloured soldiers. Sophia stared at them, too afraid to pick one. Dane glanced back at her, moving towards a cabinet full of pies and poking around inside with a pair of tongs. “I already know where your house is,” he muttered to himself.

When he returned with savouries and cake, he found Sophia still facing the chiller. Her mind wandered elsewhere, sifting through her conversation with the doctor. She berated herself with the other questions she should have asked and didn’t. “Don’t you like cold drinks?” Dane loaded the question with hidden meaning and Sophia winced. It made her unsure how to answer without rejecting him.

“Come on. We’ll get coffee instead.” Resting his arm across her shoulders, Dane pushed the loaded tray towards the till one-handed. “Two trim lattes, please,” he said to the barista. He paid, ignoring the fluffy coins Sophia held out to him.

As they turned away from the till, Sophia heard the barista whisper to the cafe owner, “Cute.” She cringed, terror mixing with dread at knowing they’d been branded a couple. She darted frightened glances at the other customers, fearful of seeing someone she knew from school. It would only take one person to tell on her and she’d be in more trouble than she could handle.

Sophia stole a quick look at Dane and he smirked, crushing her delicate ego further underfoot. His grin told her he’d heard the comment. “Hey, don’t read into things,” he soothed, jabbing her with his elbow as he carried the tray.

“That’s okay for you to say,” she bit back. “You won’t get your head kicked in.”

At the table, Dane pushed Sophia into a seat and set a steak and cheese pie in front of her. It oozed grease, disgorging its cheesy contents onto the plate. Sophia looked up in surprise and Dane laughed. “Is it still your favourite?”

She nodded. “How did you know?”

“We’ve been in the same classes for over three years, Soph. In Year 9, your English speech topic was about varieties of pie. I remember you preferred steak and cheese.” He waved a fork at his own plate. “I’m a chicken kinda guy.”

Sophia stared at her plate and considered the irony. No one at school would dare call Dane McArdle a chicken. She reached for a knife and fork from the tray and contemplated eating. Stress had not only robbed her appetite but also most of her body fat. Last year’s school skirt hung from her hips and threatened to fall down every time she moved at a faster pace than a walk. The pie looked appetising, but Sophia prodded at the runny cheese with the end of her knife.

Dane watched her through narrowed eyes. “For your exam piece in Year 11, you drew a picture of your house in pen and ink. You passed art with distinction.” When her lips parted in surprise, he gave her a rueful smile. “It’s easy to work out who people are if you bother to listen.” His cheeks flushed a healthy pink and he silenced, pushing a chunk of pie into his mouth.

Sophia looked at her pie and made a pattern in the gravy with her knife. “I don’t know much about you,” she admitted and he laughed as though reading her mind. The sound of it struck a chord in her soul and gave her an odd feeling of solidarity. Sophia bit her lip and squirmed in her seat, pushing away the unwelcome emotion. She strangled it, not wanting to let down her guard and allow herself to feel companionship. It made it harder afterwards.

Dane leaned forward and his blue irises sparkled. “My Year 9 speech talked about the influence of gangs in Hamilton and my art submission depicted a derelict house used by drug addicts in Fairview. The topic I chose was, ‘The other side of the tracks.’”

“I remember.” Sophia nodded with relief. “You won the speech competition. What exam result did you get for your art?”

Dane smiled, showing straight, white teeth. A tiny chip decorated his top front tooth, ruining the illusion of perfection but robbing little from his good looks. Sophia realised she’d never seen him smile and it send a flutter of excitement darting through her stomach. Still battling his way through puberty, Dane McArdle would be a heart breaker once finished. Sophia’s rational mind calmed her silly heart, reminding her he already was a heartbreaker. He came with a hazard warning.

Avoiding the greasy meat and cheese, Sophia pushed small pieces of pastry into her mouth and focussed on his reply. “I aimed for endorsed with excellence but got a merit instead. Aim for the moon and maybe hit the stars. Although, that’s a stupid expression because the stars are further away than the moon.” He sounded philosophical as he swallowed another mouthful. Sophia nodded, watching him from beneath her fringe.

He seemed gentler away from school, but she worried. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down, afraid of the horror it would rain onto her head. His nasty girlfriend had threatened her once before, describing in glorious detail what she’d do to her if she ever looked at Dane. Sophia had spent the last three years making an art form out of never looking in his direction. She just wanted to get through school unscathed and leave Hamilton and its small-minded inhabitants as fast as possible. The knot in her stomach complained as she dumped pastry onto it and imagined Dane ignoring her the next day. He’d pretend this didn’t happen and force her to do the same. At the thought of school, she laid her cutlery down with care.

Three bitchy girls graced the pivotal centre of Dane’s gang, orbited by a contingent of troubled boys. The girls played the boys off against one another, dating them in turn like an incestuous game of swap. They fuelled the constant fights with other boys, egging them on and then complaining about them. Sophia had seen enough fights to know the drill. The failing school meant that student behaviour went unchecked by the disillusioned adults at the helm. Fights escalated without honour or the boundaries of a moral code. “You won’t mention this, will you?” she ventured, fearing reprisals. “I don’t need any trouble.”

Dane licked his lips. “That’s an odd thing to say. Need. Not want?”

“What?” Sophia leaned forward and focussed on the chip in his tooth.

“You said you don’t need any trouble. Usually people say they don’t want trouble.”

Sophia exhaled and stared at her cooling coffee. “Neither,” she whispered. “I neither want nor need it.”

“Okay.” Dane’s eyes narrowed. He jolted the table as he crossed his long legs beneath it. “You won’t get any from me.”

“What about your girlfriend?” The words escaped her before she could recall them and Sophia pressed shaking fingers over her lips.

Dane raised an eyebrow and reached for his coffee. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Sophia rolled her eyes. Dane McArdle belonged to Sandie; everyone knew that.

“Why did you get upset in the doctors’ surgery?” Dane wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and watched her reaction. Sophia gulped, interrupted by the waitress who collected Dane’s empty plate with a smile.

“I should go,” she said. She pushed out her foot and it contacted her bag beneath the table. Heavy books clunked inside and her mind wandered as Dane’s voice rumbled opposite her.

“It sucks, aye?” His sentence sounded half-finished and Sophia forced her attention back to him, trying to pick up the threads without making a fool of herself.

“What does?” She glanced around the cafe again, seeing old people and a woman with a baby. She didn’t trust Dane McArdle. It might be a careful trap. He could be nice enough to force her to let her guard down, only to humiliate her the next day at school. His full lips moved and he said something about school uniform. Sophia waited a second to see if he elaborated, relieved to find him in safe territory. “He’s real strict, like there’s no room for compromise or anything.” Dane altered his voice until he sounded like the deputy principal. “Sort yourself out, McArdle; you look a scarecrow. Get another pullover from the school shop.”

“Oh, your pullover.” Sophia smiled with relief.

Dane nodded, his brows furrowing in irritation. “Yeah. My pullover.” He knocked his index finger against the tatty sleeve. “I already said that. He grabbed me on the way to assembly this morning. I told him I don’t have eighty bucks for another pullover.”

Sophia nodded and then glanced down at her own sleeves. Her eyes strayed to the monstrosity making its way up her leg. “Oh crap!” she groaned, smoothing the ladder which had spread as far as her thigh. “More stockings! Dad will have a fit! They cost a fortune.”

“At least I don’t have that problem!” Dane commiserated, glancing under the table at her legs. He grinned and Sophia felt the colour flush into her neck at his appraising look. She tried to distract herself from the mounting confusion she felt every time he looked at her, but her heart pounded like a jackhammer. One mistake. That’s all it would take. One wrong word. One rumour. She stared at the crumb-covered tiles next to the table and waited for the hatchet to fall.

Nothing happened. When she looked up again, Dane’s blue eyes sparkled and danced in the sunlight. A lock of dark hair fell over his eyes, bouncing in time with his lashes. Sophia felt the spark of connection and it terrified her to the core. Dane’s expression became wistful and his gaze softened. “Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “I promised you a ride home and I’m a man of my word.”

Chapter Two

Breaking the Rules

Summer graced the north island with sunshine until late evening during March. The days seemed never ending. Dane drove with confidence, surprising Sophia with his care. He cruised along with his right elbow on the windowsill, long dark fingers pulling at a thread on the rubber seal. Sophia’s bag moved around in the boot with a clunk at every corner. Two tatty booster seats occupied the back seat. She wanted to ask about them but didn’t.

The Armitage house possessed an aura of silence as Dane’s battered old Subaru bounced onto the sloped driveway and cruised to a stop. Sophia turned to thank him for the ride but spoke to his back as he exited the vehicle. She exhaled, dreading the coming awkwardness as she pushed the door open, finding it harder than she expected. Dane wrenched it open and she almost fell out, grappling at his trousers as she pitched forward. “Steady,” he laughed, clinging to his waistband. “It’s a steep driveway, aye?”

Sophia nodded and clambered upright, finding her nose level with Dane’s chin. She breathed in the scent of deodorant, cigarettes and chewing gum. “I’ll just get my bag,” she said, edging around him. The hinges of the boot lid made a dreadful creak as she tried to close it.

“Slam it. It’s old.” Dane thumped it with the flat of his hand and the lock engaged. He stood back with a lopsided smile and his dark fringe hung over his left eye. A curl bounced with the movement of his eyelashes.

“Thanks for the ride,” Sophia said, biting her lip and staring up at her closed front door. “And for the pie and coffee.” She took an awkward step backwards and tripped over her own feet.

“What’s wrong with you?” Dane asked. He caught her wrist and shrugged. “What are you so scared of?”

“Nothing!” Sophia bit. Her eyes widened in horror. She glanced up at the lounge window, knowing her mother would pitch a fit if she saw her get out of a random boy’s car. Dane followed her gaze but didn’t release her wrist. He sighed.

“I got my full licence last year,” he said. “I’m allowed to carry passengers.” His tone contained an edge of challenge. “Or is this about something else? Will you get in trouble if someone sees you with me?”

Sophia tried to disguise her unease. She raised her hand and placed her palm against Dane’s chest, feeling the corded muscle move beneath her touch. His heartbeat distracted her; regular and steady and nothing like hers. “It’s not that,” she said, shaking her head. Her ponytail flicked both shoulders in turn and Dane’s gaze followed it from side to side.

“What then?”

Sophia straightened her shoulders and made a decision which left her heart thudding and her brain screaming about consequences. “Nothing. Would you like a cold drink?”

Dane nodded, his expression uncertain. He glanced back at the house, less sure of himself now she’d called his bluff. “Yeah. Okay.”

They climbed the steps while Sophia searched in the front pocket of her school bag for the door key. Her fingers closed around the wooden ‘S’ her brother made in woodwork and she drew it out. The key slotted into the lock and its familiar click turned the mechanism. A landing met them, one set of stairs going up to the living area and the other down to the garage. “Come in,” Sophia said, beckoning Dane through the door while checking the street behind him.

“I’ve always liked your house. It looks Mediterranean with the roses around the front door and stuff.” Dane followed her inside, his head moving as he studied the paintings lining the walls.

“My mother’s English,” Sophia said. “She likes European styles. The back garden is native New Zealand though; she spent hours getting it just right.” Sophia pushed down the pain in her gut and kicked her black school shoes onto the mat. She bent to retrieve them and shoved them into a shallow, wall mounted cupboard. Dane pushed his shoes off without undoing the fragile laces and left them on the doormat. Sophia noticed a big hole at the end of his right sock and four toes peeking out. Dane covered it with his other foot, his brow knitting and his cheeks flushing an embarrassed pink. Sophia felt a wave of solidarity and pointed to the ladder in her tights. “Join the club,” she said with a smile.

Upstairs in the kitchen, the sun beat on the marbled green bench tops, filling the room with summer heat. Sophia threw the ranch slider open, allowing the indoor air to escape. Dane pressed his forehead against the glass of a side window and pointed at the garden running parallel with hers. “Declan Harris lives next door to you,” he said. “Do you see him much?”

“No.” Sophia shook her head. “I hear him playing the guitar sometimes, but their garden is lower than ours. Callister Rhodes lives in the next house along too.”

Dane jerked his head in an upwards movement. “I know.”

“I don’t see her either,” she offered and Dane cocked his head.

“Why?”

Sophia widened her eyes. “No reason. Declan hangs with the God-squad and Calli isn’t in many of my classes this year.” She gritted her teeth and watched him glance around her home as though casing the joint for a burglary later. “Is there anything else you want to know?”

Dane shrugged. “Nope.” He plunged his backside into the comfy sofa near the ranch slider and left Sophia to produce a drink of orange juice from the fridge.

“Thanks.” Dane accepted the glass, never taking his gaze from her face. She squirmed beneath his open scrutiny. He rose to examine a family portrait hanging near an office door. He pointed at the tall boy standing behind Sophia. “Your brother?” he said, leaning closer and raising an index finger to tap the glass. Matt smiled back from the photograph, his right hand placed on his sister’s shoulder. Dane failed to see through the elaborate playact constructed by their image conscious mother. The five-year-old photo hid the argument five minutes before they posed and Sophia’s subsequent crocodile tears after she got him into trouble.

“I remember him being two years above us,” Dane mused, running a hand across the bridge of his nose. “He has a hard forehead.”

“I don’t remember you fighting him,” Sophia replied, sounding confused. “He would have mentioned it.”

“Would he?” A smirk crossed Dane’s dark features and he took a swallow of the juice before returning to his seat. “Wish he could see me now.”

“Why?” Sophia stood between the kitchen and the family room, keeping a safe distance between them. “Oh, I remember. Didn’t you play soccer with him in his last year at school?”

Dane nodded, his eyes narrowed into slits. He gave nothing away. “Yep. How’s he doing?”

“He’s on a soccer scholarship at Chelsea football club. He seems happy when he rings my Dad. There’s a lot of opportunity in England.” Her brow furrowed and she sounded hesitant. “Why do you wish he could see you now?”

Dane shook his head and snorted. He raised the glass to her in an unspoken toast. “He head butted me once. If he could see me now, he’d wish he did a better job.”

Sophia swallowed. “I don’t understand.” She glanced at the photo and blinked, confusion in her eyes. “Matt didn’t fight without good reason. What did you do?” She finished her drink and put her glass in the sink, her mind occupied by thoughts of her brother. Matthew left at New Year and her mother disappeared within days of dropping him at the airport. He rang home on Sunday evenings, although it dropped off once the soccer training got more intense. Sophia’s father had lied for the past eight weeks, saying their mother went out. It couldn’t continue for much longer, but Edgar worried about Matthew flying home and losing his place in the team.

“You okay?” Dane’s studied her and Sophia nodded, flushing pink to the roots of her hair. She floundered for conversation and he winced. “I don’t think he meant to hurt me. We disagreed over something stupid.” He poked out his tongue and licked the corner of his lip. Thoughts of lying to Matt made Sophia depressed and she blew out a breath of frustration. Eager to dispel the black cloud of doom hanging over her head, she voiced an idea. It sounded ridiculous the second the words became airborne.

“Matt’s old school uniform is still here somewhere. Should I find the pullover and see if it fits you?” Dane pursed his lips and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry, it’s none of my business. Forget it.”

“It’s not that.” Dane shot to his feet and caught hold of Sophia’s wrist. “I don’t get paid until Sunday. I can buy it off you then.”

Sophia glanced at the fingers enfolding her thin wrist and then up into Dane’s eyes. “I don’t want money,” she whispered. “I meant it as a gift.”

Dane didn’t answer and flustered, Sophia wrenched her wrist free. She left the room to cover her embarrassment and bought herself time by making good on her promise. It seemed so important to solve another’s problems, as though it negated her inability to fix her own.

Matt’s scent filled the airless bedroom he’d vacated over two months ago and the smell of his deodorant caught in her chest. The sibling rivalry and foolish arguments seemed petty in the grand scheme of things. He needed to know his mother had disappeared. Only Edgar’s stubbornness prevented Sophia from blurting out the information during every fraught video call. She’d avoided the last one, hiding in her bedroom until Edgar came to tell her it was over. “Not yet,” Edgar had pleaded. “She might come back.”

Sophia shook off the sensation of loss, opened Matt’s wardrobe door and surveyed his remaining clothes. She shifted his hanging sweatshirts to one side and lifted a blue plastic box from the shelf above a stack of leaning soccer trophies. “Please let it still be here,” she muttered. “She can shout at me when she gets back.”

“When who gets back, Soph?” Sophia jumped as Dane asked the question. The box fell from her arms and disgorged its contents onto the floor of the wardrobe.

“Nobody,” she gushed, forcing brightness into her voice. “Nobody.” She knelt in the mess and located the pullover, fingering other items belonging to Matt as they tumbled through her hands. Even though her mother washed them before storing them away, the clothes still smelled of her brother. “Here it is. You can have it if it fits.”

Sophia pulled the navy pullover up by the sleeve. She almost overbalanced as it resisted and then popped free. She balled it up before holding it out to Dane and her hands shook. His long fingers reached out to take it from her and he stepped into Matt’s bedroom. “Thanks.” He gave her a smile which reflected in his eyes. It lightened his face and showed a different side to the sullen nature he displayed at school. He moved closer to the bed and to Sophia’s horror, pulled his frayed pullover up and over his head. She saw a flash of taut brown stomach as his untucked shirt lifted. “This is great, thanks.” Dane sounded enthusiastic as he slipped his arms into Matt’s pullover and stretched the neck over his head. The sleeves looked a little long and the yellow band around the V-neck and cuffs appeared dull. Dane patted it down and gave a satisfied nod. “Thanks, Soph.” He straightened out the hem and Sophia peered into the bottom of the box, spotting Matt’s old trousers and some shirts underneath. She hauled them out.

“You can take these too if they fit.” Her voice sounded soft and she wrestled with the idea of Dane accepting second-hand clothes belonging to a boy who’d head butted him for no reason.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Dane blinked as he took the trousers from her. His fingers brushed hers in the exchange.

“No, it’s fine.” Sophia’s eyes widened and she directed her gaze at the carpet as Dane stripped off the pullover and then added his shirt to the pile on the bed. Curiosity got the better of her and she glanced up at his lean torso. Her brows furrowed at the sight of a long scar stretching up over his hip. It followed the line of his waistband but looked white where the skin knitted. He darted a look at her as he hauled Matt’s shirt over his shoulders and pushed his head through the collar. He followed her gaze to his side.

“My stepdad did it,” he said. His voice sounded muffled in the folds of the shirt. He pulled it straight over his body.

“I’m sorry.” Sophia’s difficulties paled in comparison. She couldn’t imagine Edgar ever raising a hand to her or Matt, no matter how hard they pushed him.

Dane shrugged off the platitudes as though he’d grown bored with hearing them. A dimple appeared in his cheek as he admired the shirt. His tanned, muscular body moved with grace and strength and he stripped it off and folded it on the bed. He laid it down with extreme care, tucking the cuffs under the body as he patted it flat. Other healed scars littered his torso and Sophia avoided staring, pretending to fiddle around in the box to hide her embarrassment. Any enjoyment at his proximity became soiled by the memory of Sandie and what she might do if she ever found out.

The shirts clutched Dane’s torso as though made for him, but Sophia folded the trousers and pushed them against his chest as he buttoned up the last one. “Try these on at home and pass them on if they don’t fit.” She turned away and hid her hot cheeks, not sure she’d cope if he stripped to his underwear.

Dane nodded and smiled with his eyes, searching for something in her face. Sophia forced herself to look away, her throat closing with anxiety. She shut the box and Dane helped her manhandle it onto the shelf in the wardrobe, his body too close to hers. All she needed to do was reach out and touch him. It would be easy and yet stupid. Dane McArdle was dangerous enough, but his terrifying girlfriend was deadly.

“My Dad will be home soon,” Sophia said, biting her bottom lip. Dane took the cue, moving into the hallway. She was grateful for his easy acquiescence, having broken most of her parents’ rules in one sitting.

Dane’s striking blue eyes were level with Sophia’s as he lowered his feet to the first step. He looked at her and his gaze penetrated her soul. He clutched the clothes beneath one arm and a trouser leg chose that moment to tumble free. Sophia gasped and reached out, withdrawing her fingers as she clasped the back of Dane’s hand instead of the errant trouser leg. “Sorry,” she whispered. “They were escaping.”

“That’s okay.” A moment of awkwardness descended where it seemed like he might say more. Then it passed. Dane turned and walked down the stairs to the front door. He slipped his shoes over his socks without bending, then walked a few steps until the backs popped up around his foot. Catching the look of surprise on Sophia’s face, he smiled. “They’re wrecked, anyway.”

“They are now,” she replied, hearing her mother’s sarcasm on her own lips and taking herself by surprise. The words sounded harsher than she intended.

“See ya,” Dane said at the front door. He paused, tapping the frame with his fingers. “And thanks heaps for this gear. I appreciate it.” He indicated the clothing stuffed under his arm.

“That’s okay.” Sophia swallowed as yet another awkward minute passed, leaving her heated and confused. “See you at school. Maybe.”

“Sure thing.” Dane strode to his car and pulled the handle on the driver’s door. He hadn’t locked it and it opened with a creak.

Sophia waved to him as his car belched to life and the gears ground into reverse. He backed off the driveway leaving an oily streak guaranteed to incite Edgar’s interest. As the sound of his blowing exhaust roared onto the main street, Sophia leaned against the closed front door and sighed. She’d had the best and worst afternoon of her life and had nobody to share it with. Dane’s company went part way towards negating her misery at the doctor’s surgery, but the threat of Sandie hung over her like a dark cloud.

Upstairs, she pulled Matthew’s bedroom door closed, noticing Dane’s old pullover screwed up on the carpet where it fell. Picking it up, she held it to her nose, feeling the scratchy material against her face and remembering his unexpected tenderness when he wiped her tears away with his sleeve. She smelled his deodorant and a cheap aftershave brand infused into the wool. Sophia worried at her lower lip with her teeth. The pullover gave her an excuse to speak to him again and she walked to her bedroom and stuffed it into her bag. Anticipation and excitement lit a fire in her chest.

But as she settled down to start her homework, reality sneaked in along with the darkening fear that he might be toying with her. She imagined trying to give him the pullover in front of Sandie and the other girls which set up a scenario in her head that didn’t go well. Somehow Sophia ended up looking the fool, whichever way she ran it.

Her father arrived home late home from work and peered at the oil patch on the driveway. Sophia saw his tousled head through an upstairs window and ran to the front door. “Who the hell did that?” Edgar shouted. Irritation budded on his tired face.

Sophia avoided the question, not wanting the responsibility of any more lies. “Can we go for a driving lesson before it gets dark, please Dad? My parallel parking is still rubbish and I want to book my full licence test soon.”

“Not tonight honey.” Edgar sighed. “I’m too tired to concentrate. We’ll end up arguing and I’m not in the mood.”

He curled up in an armchair with his shoes on, watching pictures move across the television screen but registering nothing. Questions about work went unanswered as Sophia attempted to fill the roles which fate allotted to her. She burned sausages for dinner under the temperamental grill, forgetting the other components of the meal until the blackened skins sat alone on the plate. She swore at her own ineptitude, half hoping Edgar might reprimand her. He didn’t and disappointment struck its familiar tune in her head. Adding bread and butter to Edgar’s plate, Sophia presented it like an offering as he slumped in his chair.

“I’m not hungry, sorry.” Edgar prodded the burned sausages until they turned to mush on the plate. Then he went to his room and left her to clear up alone.

“Geez thanks for all your effort, Soph,” she grumbled to herself. The dishwasher ran twice before it spat the tablet into the tray and cleaned anything. She retreated to her bedroom at the end of the long hall and didn’t see her father again that night. He remained in the master bedroom next to the family lounge, at the opposite end of the house from Sophia. Falling asleep on top of the covers in his clothes, he woke up cold and aching the next morning to begin the painful cycle of existence all over again.

Chapter Three

Happy Plastic People

Sophia felt anxious about school the following Monday. Dane’s pullover added to the weight of the text books in her bag and she acknowledged reluctance at the thought of handing it back. Something about their shared hour brought comfort through the pullover’s presence as she’d finished her homework and proofread an English assignment. She sensed the fragility of the illusion of friendship, but still wasn’t ready to let it go.

Sophia spent a lonely weekend with Edgar. He didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything. He rejected Sophia’s suggestion of going to the movies. “We need to be at home,” he said, imploring her with his eyes. “Just in case we get news. Anyway, I can’t concentrate for an entire movie at the moment.” He fell asleep watching a cricket test for most of Sunday afternoon. He grunted as he woke and seemed surprised to find himself watching golf.

“Just in case,” had become his standard excuse for avoiding everything, his life on hold as he waited and waited for something to happen to release the tension. A phone call, a visit, a letter, a body. Sophia had got to the stage where any of the options seemed preferable to the nothingness they continued to exist in. She stood over her father as he slept. His muscle tone wasted away through worry, lack of nourishment or proper, quality sleep. She returned to her room, retrieving Dane’s pullover from her bag and pressing it to her forehead. It represented the only memory of another’s kindness shown to her in months.

“Mum, where are you?” She sniffed into the fabric. But the appeal led down a route she daren’t travel and conclusions she couldn’t bear to face.

Sophia hated the twenty-minute walk to school as other groups and individual figures joined the steady trudge. The students resembled numerous reluctant tributaries being swallowed by a fast-flowing river. Hamilton swapped its dense, biting winter fog for rolling mists during the summer months. The shadowy figures appeared to float across the landscape, disembodied by the wispy clouds of water vapour. Sophia felt like a zombie, sleep deprived and miserable. A haunting voice inside told her she’d never feel happiness again and doom wrapped itself around her shoulders like a shroud.

A bus pulled up alongside as she plodded along Discovery Drive with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She heard the click of kitten heels and the squeak of trainers as passengers disgorged from its belly. Sophia cursed under her breath and sped up. She’d tried to force Edgar to take the sandwiches she’d made him for work and they’d argued. He insisted she leave them in the fridge so he could eat them at home. He moved through the same routine every day, working because they needed the money but dashing home in his breaks just in case his wife had called, left a note or seated herself in the sunny kitchen waiting for him. Sophia ground her teeth and wondered if he went through the same agonies as her every time he unlocked the front door. Loves us. Loves us not.

The bus passengers joined the stream of students, some jogging past and others dragging their feet. Sophia picked up her pace, angry with herself for allowing the lateness which made her vulnerable to attack. Her blazer hung from rigid shoulders as she dreaded attention from the knot of spiteful girls behind. She heard Sandie’s voice rise and fall like nails on a blackboard as they discussed something adult rated.

Sophia almost got away with it. They noticed her at the school gate as the students divided left and right. The sound of Sandie’s shout almost came as a relief, snapping the tension and ushering in the inevitable. “Hey, bitch, what you lookin’ at?” Sophia veered left and kept walking. Logic told her and everyone else that she didn’t have eyes in the back of her head and hadn’t looked at Sandie. It didn’t matter. The rhetorical question wasn’t designed for an answer. If she turned around, she’d be dead meat before tutor time. Sophia picked up the pace and headed towards the low brick wall bordering the rugby field. Sandie’s rants grew distant and Sophia cringed against her parting volley. “Look at me again and I’ll give you a slap!” Sophia knew she meant it because she’d done it before.

Sophia only dared to glance back when she deemed it safe. Dane stood in the courtyard and the little group of dangerous girls orbited him like satellites. Sandie had altered her uniform skirt to show more meaty thigh than anyone wanted to see and Lou’s make up looked trowelled onto her otherwise attractive face. Sandie’s experiment with false eyelashes wasn’t going so well and she squinted from beneath the wonky black fringes super-glued onto her eyelids.

The group had run all their teachers ragged, making it a challenge to get them to quit in record time. Sophia had shared a tutor class with them for almost four years and watched it happen with a sense of hopelessness. Though Dane did nothing to assist, the girls and their crew of troubled boys seemed to act up to impress him. The more he ignored them, the worse they behaved. Sophia had liked Dane since the very first day, but her monster crush had lasted all of a week. Sandie caught her watching him and waited for her after school. Sophia had made an art form out of never looking his way again. She just wanted to get through school, earn the qualifications she needed and get out. She flew below the radar in everything, working hard to remain like a greyed-out version of herself, so as not to draw attention. It was safer that way.

Sophia sat in her tutor class, positioned near the front within easy reach of the teacher. It didn’t help much. The staff were demoralised and without enthusiasm, showing up to work for the same reason Edgar drove to the car yard each day. Everyone needed to pay a mortgage. Nothing more. Nothing less. The tutor teacher was late, putting off the moment of reckoning and finding excuses to hang back in the staff room. It gave Sandie and Co. free rein.

“Darren, do you like my new bra?” Sophia turned her head enough to assess the danger and saw Sandie in her peripheral vision. Too close for comfort. She’d straightened her long dark hair until it stuck out from her head like a static haze. Latex-like layers of foundation masked her unfortunate skin condition, dulling the angry eczema on the side of her face while worsening it beneath the many chemicals required to make it stay in place for seven hours a day. An enormous pair of breasts clung to her chest wall and protruded through her school blouse, propped up by a wonder bra that helped them nestle just below her chin.

“Gerroff!” Darren pushed her breasts from in front of his face and wrinkled his nose. “You need deodorant!” He jerked his chin up in acknowledgement to the jeering males around him. A dark-haired boy poked his tongue out in a suggestion of something dodgy and Sandie preened beneath what she assumed was a compliment. Sophia lifted her biology text book higher, so she could sneak a glance at Dane without detection. He leaned over his desk with a pen in his hand and concentrated on the exercise book in front of him. While his minions created havoc, he finished his chemistry homework.

Janice caught her eye and Sophia looked straight through her as though she hadn’t seen. She knew better than to engage with her. Janice rotated around the edges of their group, a small, mousy looking girl with a large nose. The most dangerous of all, she used her mild mannered, harmless appearance to lull victims into a false sense of security. Sophia only made the mistake once. She’d sat with her in history class in Year 10. Janice copied everything she wrote and then lied about her to Sandie and Lou. The girls had waited for her after school and toyed with her for a while like pulling the legs off a spider. Then they laid into her with punches and kicks for the comment about Sandie’s weight which was never said. Janice remained calm and unruffled throughout and Sophia learned the valuable lesson that she would never be safe.

Her mother went crazy when she’d arrived home bleeding. She rang the school, ensuring Sandie sought her daughter out in the toilets the next day. And the next. And the next. Until she got the message.

It took Sophia months to get over it. The school adults seemed impotent to affect any kind of positive change under the tired regime. Sophia learned to create her own safety, running to the bathrooms as soon as the bell went and never going alone during breaks. She’d retained two decent friends during her time at the school although one seemed happiest at the centre of division. Maddie favoured Sophia and then Heather depending on her mood, adding to the overriding sense of insecurity in Sophia’s world. She set them up against each other in a continual popularity poll, like a diva performing for an audience.

“Hey, posh bitch.” A wad of paper hit the back of her head and Sandie aimed her comment at Sophia’s back. She prayed that the group would leave at the end of the year. Get pregnant, get jobs, just get lost. She cringed and hunched her shoulders, hearing Lou laugh and feeling their sense of victory traverse the airwaves to sully the surrounding atmosphere. A knot of tension lodged inside Sophia’s chest began a slow burn, surprising her with its intensity. It changed from exhaustion and futility to outrage. The end of her rope came and went in her inner vision and something dangerous began to grow in its place. Dane’s pullover radiated courage from inside her rucksack and she nursed the secret liaison in her chest. He hadn’t told them, or she’d already be dead.

“Why is Sandie taunting you?” Maddie hissed through the side of her mouth, watching the gang of girls circle around Dane’s desk. Oblivious, he kept his head down and created crabbed writing from margin to margin.

“Don’t know.” Sophia frowned and gritted her teeth, forcing herself to sit up straight and reclaim some semblance of dignity.

Heather glanced towards Sandie and shook her head. “They’re evil when the boys are around, but really sadistic when they aren’t. Do they seem to be getting worse?”

Maddie wrinkled her nose. “Nah, they’re always vile.” She looked at Sophia. “Remember that time they picked on you? I almost crapped myself.”

“I remember.” Sophia stared at her through narrowed eyes and Maddie looked away, her cheeks flaring with guilt. Maddie had chatted with Janice while Sandie and Lou pulled Sophia’s hair and blacked her eye.

The bell rang and the class moved as one. Dane’s groupies reached the open door first and filtered outside. Sophia shook her head. “Great. Now we’re not marked as present on the register. I don’t want them to ring my dad again. Where’s the teacher?”

“Probably quit.” Heather waggled her eyebrows. “I thought they rang your mum.”

Sophia’s body tightened and the seed of bitterness in her chest grew a little more. She dodged the question and consulted her mental timetable. “I should get to class,” she said with a sigh. She rose and lifted her bag onto her shoulder.

“I need to use the bathroom,” Heather said with a wince. She ran a hand over her stomach. “Do you think they’ll go for a smoke or go straight to class?”

“Smoke.” Sophia delivered her verdict and moved away. “You must hold it or run to the toilet block near the science labs.”

“I don’t have time.” Heather rose and pressed her knees together. “Will one of you come with me?”

Anxiety drew Sophia’s brows together. She glanced at her watch and gnawed on her lower lip. It seemed wrong to abandon Heather to fate, despite having experienced the scenario herself many times. “I can if we run there and back.” Shifting her bag higher on her shoulder, Sophia saw Dane collect his books together. He balanced them in his arms and stood, dwarfing the other teenagers filtering past.

“I’ll go with you.” Maddie shoved her way past Sophia and took Heather’s elbow. She narrowed her eyes into a reprimand and glared over her shoulder. Sophia resisted the urge to argue. She’d been prepared to go out of her way and Maddie’s veiled criticism seemed unfair. She steered the course of least resistance and accepted the narrow-eyed rebuke. Her fingers closed around the strap of her bag and she watched Dane shove his pens into his trouser pocket. His ruler followed, pushed against the lining in two separate pieces. Sophia held her breath and sensed the tension as he delayed his exit. Panic raised her heart rate and the blood pounded through her ears. The consequences of him singling her out in public would prove disastrous.

Heather and Maddie left and headed for the bathroom. Sophia ventured closer to Dane and held her breath as he joined her between two desks. “Those girls aren’t your friends,” he whispered, leaning close to convey his unexpected warning.

“Thanks.” Sophia avoided looking at him, his words cutting deep. She picked up the pace and left him behind, turning into the corridor and finding herself following Sandie. Her heart sank and she hung back, praying the girls didn’t turn around. Dane’s footsteps sounded behind her, trapping her in a nightmare.

The girls showed no interest in anything but their whispered conversation. It occupied all their attention as they strolled along the corridor with Sandie taking centre stage. The warning bell rang and Sophia looked for an alternate route, seeing nothing available for the next few metres.

“So, what happened?” Lou asked.

“Dad sent him away,” Sandie replied. “Told him to man up and refused to help. Uncle gets out of prison soon. Dane looked real upset when he left. He said we had blood on our hands and could all to go to hell.”

Lou’s shoulders sagged. “I think he meant it. You saw him in tutor group. He ignored all of us.”

Sophia kept her head down as more boys made a beeline for Sandie, Lou and Janice. They all sauntered through the double exit doors as a group and turned left. Sophia jogged to her first lesson, the overheard conversation raising more questions than answers.

Dane didn’t show up to their shared class, but Mr Drew marked him present anyway with a furrowed brow. “Ah, I know where he is,” he whispered under his breath.

Sophia rubbed a hand across her face and sighed. Maddie had joined the class late with fantastic tales aimed at helping her avoid detention. “Is Heather okay?” Sophia asked. “Is she sick?”

“No.” Maddie’s eyebrows drew together. “Why are you behaving so weird? Will you tell us what’s going on or not?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sophia hissed. “I’m the same as always.” She bent and fumbled in her bag for her books, setting them out before her on the desk. She shook her dark fringe forward, so it helped her avoid eye contact with the teacher. Maintaining a grey facade involved avoiding questions and personal contact with adults.

Maddie pouted. “It’s your turn to host the sleepover this month. Can your mum bake those cookies like last time? They’re yummy.”

Sophia’s heart clenched and she held her breath. “We can’t do it at my house.” She cringed at the indignant look Maddie shot her and ran on into a great big lie. “My mum’s not well. It’s just for the moment. I can’t have people over for a while. I’m sorry. Maybe we can have the next two at Heather’s.”

“Miss Armitage!” Mr Drew narrowed his eyes and squinted. He fixed his hands on his hips. “Would you and Madeline like to share your big news with the class, or can I trust you to shut up?”

“We’ll shut up.” Sophia swallowed and closed her eyes. A red flush hiked from her chest and settled over her cheeks and ears. She concentrated on the scrawl Mr Drew spread across the whiteboard, copying it down and ignoring the sighing and puffing from Maddie in the seat next to her. The bell rang after an hour and she gathered her pens into her pencil case. Maddie sat up straight and leaning across, flicked Sophia’s ruler onto the floor. “Anyone would think you didn’t want to be friends with us anymore,” she bit.

Sophia’s fingers stopped in the act of reaching for her phone in her blazer pocket. She stared at Maddie. “What?”