Night School

‘Very funny,’ he said, looking like it wasn’t very funny.

‘Oh yes,’ she said, ‘and I’m very funny. Sorry, I forgot to mention it earlier.’

He was beginning to look exasperated. ‘That’s really useful, thanks. But what I was wondering is, what are you doing at Cimmeria? It’s rather unusual for new students to join in the middle of summer term.’

Put off by his investigative tone, Allie leaned away from him and crossed her arms. He’d asked for the truth, but that was a lot of ammunition to give a stranger.

She twirled her pen between her fingers. ‘I won a contest?’

‘Funny,’ he said again, although his face said it wasn’t. ‘Seriously. Never be afraid to be honest – what brought you here really?’

So he wasn’t going to let go. Fine then.

She raised her chin and met his eyes directly. ‘I got arrested.’

He shrugged. ‘So?’

‘Three times.’

‘Oh.’

‘In one year.’

He gave a low whistle. ‘Right. But getting arrested doesn’t get you into Cimmeria. This isn’t a reform school. Why are you here?’

Stung, Allie could feel her temper rising but she fought it back. ‘To be honest, I have no idea. My parents told me that I was coming here, and a few days later here I was. They said it specialises in kids like me. Whatever that means.’

‘Interesting.’ He studied her curiously, as if she were a puzzling display in a museum cabinet.

She shot him a sharp look. ‘Why is it interesting?’

‘Troubled kids do come here, but not in the summer term. All the summer term students are in advanced studies.’

A flash of resentment shot through her and she glared at him.

Do I have ‘too stupid to be here’ tattooed on my forehead?

She stacked her books in angry piles. ‘I guess it’s impossible to consider the idea that I might be clever. And troubled.’ She spat the last word out. ‘Well, then I better get on with studying, right? I’ll have to really work hard to keep up with all you geniuses.’

‘Hey.’ He looked startled. ‘Don’t be so sensitive. I’m just trying to figure you out.’

And that was all it took. After Katie and Jules and Zelazny, her parents and the police, she’d had it. She shoved the books into her bag and spun around to face him.

‘Well don’t. OK? Don’t try to figure me out. Don’t try to analyse me. And, while you’re at it, stop insulting me. You see me in class and overhear a conversation and think you know me. But, believe me, you know nothing about me.’

She stormed out of the library and ran up the stairs.

… thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four steps …

She just made it to her room before the storm hit. The bag dropped from her nerveless fingers, and leaning back against the door she slid down to the floor. With her face buried in her hands she sobbed quietly. Why was she here? Everybody treated her like the village idiot who’d slipped in when the guard’s back was turned. She could feel her breath growing shallow and she fought back a panic attack, but the edges of her vision started to go black.

She counted her breaths, the boards on the wooden floor, the books on the shelves, and the panes of glass in the window until she felt herself regain control, and her sight began to return to normal.

When she felt better, she climbed to her feet. Opening the door, she checked to see if the hall was empty before hurrying down to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. As she smoothed her hair back, the door opened and Jules walked in. Her eyes took in Allie’s tear-stained cheeks, and a worried look flashed across her face.

‘Hi Allie. How are you settling in?’

Allie didn’t feel like faking it. And she didn’t feel like talking about it either. She just wanted to be somewhere else.

‘Everything’s great, Jules.’ Her words dripped sarcasm but she couldn’t help it. ‘Everybody’s being so nice. It’s all just … great.’

Before Jules could react, she opened the door and ran down the hall.

She’d never felt more lonely in her life.

Allie awoke with a start, and sat up in the wooden chair. Her back was aching and the desk lamp was still on.

What time is it?

Her head foggy, she turned the alarm clock to face her. Two o’clock in the morning.

Must have fallen asleep at my desk.

She was sitting in front of the open window, a stack of papers spread out in front of her. After her meltdown she hadn’t been hungry, so she’d skipped dinner and stayed in her room to catch up on her reading.

The last thing she could remember was reading The Rules.

After finishing her homework, it had occurred to her that she’d never really read them, and she’d pulled the thick stack of paper out of the desk drawer. They were so strange and prescriptive that at first she couldn’t believe what she was reading.

Welcome Allie.