Instead, he decides to visit the rec room on the opposite side of campus, and try the vending machine. Perhaps there will be someone there prepared to give him a game of table football, although it’s a long shot. Most of his friends will only just be hauling themselves out of bed right now, just like Zac on any other day.
As he crosses the main school courtyard, he gets a good view down the hill, and spots a few cars snaking their way along the school driveway. Soon these paths will be full of his peers, gossiping and speculating about what happened last night to his sister and his cousin. He hurries on, nausea replacing his hunger.
When he gets to the rec room he looks around and his heart sinks – not one boy in here yet, just a few groups of girls. He scans quickly for Maddie, but isn’t surprised to find that she’s not there. Two of her best friends are, though – Jacinta and Zoe, leaders of the beautiful crowd. He’s never known them to be here so early, and he curses his bad luck. They are deep in conversation and he turns again, hoping to find a quiet corner in which to hunker down before he is noticed. Alas, one of them shouts, ‘Zac!’ Reluctantly, he turns and walks over.
‘OMG, we heard about Sophia,’ Zoe says, as they both scrutinise him, eager eyes shining with curiosity rather than concern, searching for more tidbits. They remind him of the crows along the valley who gather at the first sign of a picnic.
‘Have you spoken to Maddie?’ he asks, already hurt at the thought she may have made contact with them first.
‘Not yet. So, what happened?’
Zac shrugs. ‘Hit-and-run. Georgia was there too, but she got out of the way in time.’
The girls stare at one another in showy horror. Zac feels uneasy. He turns to go.
‘Zac,’ Jacinta says behind him.
There is a high, callous edge to her voice that makes Zac think of a cat toying with its prey. He turns, ready for the strike.
‘You need to get over Maddie,’ Jacinta says, as primly as any schoolteacher. ‘She’s your cousin. It’s a little bit sick.’
Behind her, Zoe puts a hand over her mouth and titters.
Zac pauses while he takes in what he just heard. ‘She’s my uncle’s stepdaughter,’ he responds eventually, but he knows his face is betraying him. He can feel his cheeks burning.
‘O-kay . . .’ Jacinta laughs, her jaw jutting out in a horrible guffaw, a glint in her eye that brings to mind one word – bitch – that Zac stops himself from saying aloud – but only just.
‘Piss off, Jacinta,’ he snaps instead, and walks away before they can say more, hearing both girls burst into laughter behind him. He heads for the toilet where he sits in a cubicle while his face returns to its normal colour. In those few minutes he despairs of ever understanding girls. Does Maddie laugh at him behind his back too? He had thought they were friends, but does she just see him as a lovesick pup?
Women, he thinks, nothing but trouble, recalling a refrain he’s heard countless times from his friends, his dad and his uncle. Time to toughen up, Zac, he tells himself. Or, as Cooper would say, Don’t be a pussy all your life.
Just then his mobile rings. There are so many people he doesn’t want to talk to right now that he nearly doesn’t bother looking at it. But curiosity gets the better of him and he takes it out of his pocket.
Maddie.
Embarrassment still rules him, and before he can think, he has rejected the call. As soon as he cuts her off, he regrets it. He should have found out if Sophia is okay. Yet, however much he wants to know, he can still feel his face burning at her friends’ words, and he can’t quite bring himself to call back.
5
GEORGIA
Georgia’s alarm goes off punctually at 7.30 – it’s time to get ready for school. She emerges from a haze, unsure how much she has actually slept, because in the small hours when she finally managed to doze she became lost in an assault of terrifying images that felt much closer to her consciousness than a nightmare. The aching weariness of her body suggests that she has had little rest, but that could just be a reaction to the events of last night.
Sophia, she thinks with a jolt. Automatically, she checks her phone. Sophia sometimes messages before school – usually something funny about her family and their fights for the bathroom, or just to say hello. But there is no cheery greeting this morning, and the sense of unreality that has begun to cushion Georgia’s distress pops like a balloon. Last night was no dream. Sophia is in hospital somewhere. Sophia has been hurt.