by James Dawson
The mere mention of ‘tit’ caused Jason Briggs to almost fall off his chair in barely contained giggles.
From the far left of the classroom, doll-like Delilah Bloom raised her arm.
‘Delilah?’
‘There were no witches in Salem.’
‘She’d know!’ someone whispered behind Lis.
‘Go on, Delilah.’
Lis sat up to take notice of the interesting new direction in which the lesson was heading.
‘The whole point of The Crucible is that witches, if there were any, posed no threat to the community. The real danger was in the hysteria that took over,’ Delilah explained.
Mrs Osborne smiled and nodded, although Lis sensed that many in the class were left trailing.
‘Good points, Delilah, thank you. Good to know someone did the reading.’ She addressed the whole class, ‘The Crucible was a metaphor for the way America treated suspected communists – a modern witch hunt. Can anyone think of any more recent examples where groups in society may have inspired the same suspicion or fear?’
Fear. Lis knew a thing or two about fear. She thought of her recurring nightmare. Her dreams were always the same, one minute it’d be something totally random like fretting about preparing a giant Christmas cake, and then, suddenly, without any chance to wake herself, the temperature would plummet and her hands would gradually submerge in the coppery waters of the stream in the wood. The here we go again sensation would kick in, but not until it was far too late and she’d resumed her doomed crawl through the forest, accompanied by the sound of her own screams.
Forcing herself back into the present, Lis focused on meticulously rearranging her brand new stationery. She lined up pointed pencils in length order, sliding her finger along the sharp graphite tips. She was safe in school where no murderous hands could reach her. She tried to refocus on the lesson – Mrs Osborne was suggesting that Islamophobia and hate crime were modern parallels of Miller’s witch hunt – and suddenly noticed Delilah observing her from across the room. Have I gone pale? The absolute last thing she needed was to become ‘the new girl who freaks out in English’; that really would take some living down.
Lis took a deep breath. Cool, calm, composed. New Lis™ was back on track. She sat up straight and started taking notes from Mrs Osborne’s lecture.
As the class filed out of English, amidst a flurry of frantic text-message checking, Lis stole an opportunity to put her new social-butterfly wings to the test.
She fell into step alongside Delilah Bloom. ‘I think we can assume we’re the only two people to have read The Crucible!’
Delilah smiled a cautious grin, clearly on guard. ‘I think that would be a safe assumption, yes.’
‘Oh, well, maybe they saw the Winona Ryder film,’ Lis suggested with a smile.
‘There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that version, darling. High camp!’
Lis loved the way Delilah spoke. It was wilfully eccentric, like she was channelling Oscar Wilde or something. ‘Oh, I know, when I was little I wanted to be Winona and marry Johnny Depp. I used to watch Edward Scissorhands over and over on video!’
Delilah laughed heartily. ‘Another high quality film. New girl, you have excellent taste!’
Like the Red Sea parting, the throng of pupils at the far end of the corridor separated to make way as Laura Rigg and her acolytes approached.
Delilah casually drew the longest pencil from Lis’s fingers and used it to secure her wild red hair in a knot. ‘You don’t want to be seen talking to me, Lis. It won’t do you any favours whatsoever.’
Before Lis had a chance to argue, Delilah strutted down the stairs and into fresh air.
Lis was surprised to find herself disappointed at the girl’s departure. Was it that she really liked Delilah, or had she just been dreading lunchtime with the ‘It Girls’?
She didn’t have time to dwell on this as eight skinny, miniskirted legs reached her position in the hall. She smiled as honestly as she could. She knew that half the girls in Year Eleven would kill to socialise with these pedigree creatures, yet she had a tight knot in her stomach.
‘Hiya, you all right?’ asked Harry, slipping her arm through Lis’s own.
‘Come with us for lunch.’ Laura’s intonation suggested a command rather than a question.
‘Yeah, if that’s cool?’ Lis replied.
‘Totally,’ Laura replied. ‘There are some people you need to meet.’
The weather had finally cleared up and hazy sunshine warmed the concrete outdoor areas of Fulton High, the drying buildings cracking in the heat. Lis was led through several communal quads full of pupils nibbling on sandwiches and apples. It seemed that each plaza had become territory for a different social clique: one occupied by childlike Year Sevens, another by the music crowd, balancing on cello cases while tuning guitars. Under a rain shelter, she spotted Delilah’s trio lurking on the outskirts of an obvious ‘geek’ group. With them, but not with them.
As they left the school buildings behind and started to cross the rugby pitch, heading ever further from the canteen, Lis began to fear that, much like the girls at her old school, these new, stick-thin friends shunned any form of food during lunch break. Not wanting to say anything, Lis vowed to leave ten minutes to grab a sandwich before the end of break. ‘Where are we going?’ she ventured.
‘We sit by the trees,’ Nasima stated. ‘The lads should be there by now.’
Oh, joy! She should have known there’d be boys involved. Lis didn’t relish the idea of being ‘fresh meat’.
‘You can smoke in the wood, if you want,’ said Fiona. ‘Teachers sort of walk around, but they never look into the trees.’
Looking over the crumbling boundary wall, the trees in question were actually the edge of Pike Copse which so reminded Lis of the wood in her dreams. It seemed there was to be no getting away from her nightmare in such a small town.
She could hear the raucous laughter of ‘the lads’ from midway across the pitch. It sounded like the island of donkeys from Pinocchio. This didn’t fill her with much confidence, although many of her closest friends in Bangor had been male so she was willing to give them a chance. The girls sloped down an incline much to the vocal appreciation of the gang waiting by the trees. Fiona instantly crossed to a tall, thin youth with far too much gel in his hair and launched into a tongue-filled display of affection.
Laura sidled over to Lis and grasped her hand, pulling her down to sit on the grass embankment. ‘Make them come to us, obviously!’ she whispered in her ear.
They didn’t have to wait long for attention. Three young men threw their rugby ball aside and jogged over to where the girls sat.
Laura leaned further in. ‘The one with the earring is Cam. He is so right for you.’
Lis could barely mask the look of horror on her face before the boys reached them.
‘Y’all right, Riggsy?’ asked the one Laura had identified as Cam. He had the broadest shoulders Lis had ever seen on a sixteen-year-old, and the dainty jewelled stud in his ear did nothing to soften his exterior.
Laura shot Cam her coy smirk. ‘Yeah, I’m good. What’s with the hair?’
He smiled broadly, twisting spikes with his fingers. ‘Just somethin’ new I’m tryin’!’
‘It looks crap,’ Laura retorted before nodding slightly at Lis. ‘This is that new girl I texted you about, Lis.’
He looked Lis up and down before turning back to smile at his mates. ‘She’s mine!’ he said, deliberately loud enough for her to hear. ‘Nice to meet you, Lis. You are a very sexy lady.’
Lis stifled a laugh. How does one respond to that? ‘OK. Thanks I guess.’
‘I’m also very sexy. We should have sex.’
His mates laughed loudly as they threw themselves down on the grass.
‘Cameron!’ Laura punched him on a bulging arm. ‘Why are you such a sex pest? Can’t you just knock one out in your bathroom like everyone else?’
At that, Lis laughed out l
oud. Laura was fierce. She handled the boys as if she was one of them and Lis respected that. In fact, there was something quite masculine about Laura. Not physically, of course, but it was almost as if being queen of the school wasn’t enough, she wanted to be king, too.
‘Why are you so savage all the time, Riggsy?’ Cam demanded.
‘Because you’re so boring and it amuses me!’ She smiled sweetly. ‘Now, try again with my new friend, Lis. She’s not a piece of meat.’
Lis smiled, safe under Laura’s protection. She couldn’t stop staring at her new ally. It was as if Laura perfectly matched her idea of beauty, and when she was with her it made Lis feel more attractive too.
‘Sorry, Lis. Welcome to Fulton. I’m Cameron and this is Ste and Bobsy. Is that better?’
‘Much better!’ Lis said, shaking his outstretched hand.
As the boys joined their circle, Lis was distracted by a newcomer striding down the slope. The new arrival was tall and slender, and Lis could just make out the curve of firm muscles underneath his shirt. But it was his face that held her gaze: square jaw and full lips, with ocean blue eyes looking out from beneath heavy, dark brows. Lis had always had a thing for blue eyes with dark hair. It was somehow otherworldly.
‘That’s Danny Marriott,’ whispered Harry.
Gutted that she’d been well and truly busted, Lis gulped hard and realised her throat had become sandpaper.
Danny was approaching their group.
‘He’s so hot, isn’t he?’ Harry added rhetorically. ‘He didn’t used to be. He was like this big chubby geek and then all of a sudden he became gorgeous and joined the rugby team. Random!’
‘Oi, Danny-Boy! Sit your arse down!’ demanded Laura.
He smiled and it was so perfect, Lis stopped breathing. He shuffled into the group.
‘How’s it going?’ he threw his rucksack down and sat cross-legged next to Nasima. ‘I can’t stay; I have to do homework for Physics next lesson. I forgot all about it. Bobsy, have you got your textbook?’
Bobsy started to rummage in his bag as Lis tried not to gawp at Danny.
‘You’re such a geek, Marriott!’ Laura said and grinned. ‘It’s just not sexy.’
‘If I mess up my GCSEs my dad won’t get me the car on my seventeenth, remember?’
‘Oh, yeah, bummer,’ said Bobsy, handing over a dog-eared textbook.
Danny fixed Lis in his turquoise gaze. It was like a Caribbean wave washing over her.
‘Hi, we haven’t met. I’m Danny.’ His voice was canyon deep but so gentle she had to strain to hear him.
‘I’m Lis.’ The words seemed misshapen and furry on her tongue.
Laura moved closer to him, stroking his arm. ‘We’ve adopted Lis from Wales. How immense of you would it be if she could come to your shindig . . .’
Lis squirmed uncomfortably under Danny’s gaze. Being around boys never usually fazed her. This was ridiculous! She barely dared to look him in the eye again in case some sort of sigh escaped her lips.
‘Yeah, you should come. It’s in a few weeks. My parents are going away for the weekend, so I’m having some people round,’ Danny said.
‘Cool, I don’t think I’m busy,’ Lis kept her eye line just short of his.
‘Duh, of course you aren’t busy!’ Laura declared. ‘It’s not like you have any other mates yet, is it?’
The girls giggled and Lis managed an embarrassed semi-smile.
Danny seemed to roll his eyes as he got to his feet. ‘Cool, I’ll see you later then. Homework time.’ Without any messing around, he strode up the embankment, heading back to the school.
Laura crawled nearer to Lis and Harry conspiratorially. ‘That is so epic,’ she whispered, ‘you can pull Cam at the party!’
Lis frowned. ‘Do I have to?’
‘No, duh, I’m not a pimp! But you should, he’s actually really nice.’
‘What about you, Laura?’ asked Nasima. ‘Danny?’
Laura laughed, throwing back her curls. ‘Maybe. Watch this space!’
And that was it. Game over. If Laura had her claws into Danny then it was finished before it had even begun. It was never gonna happen. And for some reason, Lis wanted to cry.
Stalking is a very strong word, but as the twenty-past-three bell rang throughout Fulton High School, Lis found herself stalking Danny Marriott. He was ambling down the slope that led to the bus turnaround with Cameron and Bobsy, the sound of their cheerful camaraderie drifting up to her location some thirty feet behind them.
She studied every inch of him: the way his backpack hung just above his perfect bum, his dimples, his almost coy laugh. She knew this was pretty shameless behaviour. Lis had always considered herself above this sort of nonsense. In fact, she’d been convinced that she didn’t have the ‘crush’ gene. Turned out she was just a late developer. He was divine.
Some distance ahead she saw the little circus that was Kitty, Jack and Delilah heading out of the bus lane and towards the main road. What was more interesting was the reaction to their presence. As Kitty led their march, people almost dived out of their way like they had leprosy or something. Onlookers laughed nervously as they passed and, from such a distance, Lis could only imagine what people were whispering to each other, but one thing was for certain, Fulton High was scared of the trio.
Suddenly hands grabbed her shoulders and Lis let out a startled yelp.
‘Guess who!’ Harry squealed.
‘Christ, you made me jump!’
Laura, Nasima and Fiona were close behind, fixated on something in the distance.
‘Quick,’ said Laura, ‘you don’t wanna miss this.’ Laura took Lis by the arm and steered her towards the bus stop.
‘What don’t I want to miss?’
‘You see the girl with the long ponytail?’ Laura pointed to an aristocratic-looking girl waiting for the bus. ‘That’s Poppy Hewitt-Smith.’
Laura stopped the group as they reached the gate.
‘Who’s she?’ Lis asked.
‘She is the bitch that grassed me up for sneaking vodka into her barbecue before I went to Thailand. Her mum told my mum and I was grounded for a whole weekend!’
‘She’s well stuck up, too. Just because her sister’s married to a Leeds United player.’ Nasima tossed her silky hair back.
‘OK,’ Lis said, confused.
‘Keep watching.’ Harry giggled. ‘The show’s about to start!’
‘How come?’ Lis asked.
Laura’s eyes widened, overflowing with fake innocence. ‘This afternoon in Chemistry, I informed Connor O’Grady that Poppy had told Ms Dandehunt who started the fire in the boys’ toilets. Let’s just say he wasn’t too happy.’
Lis was beginning to understand. Her heart began to beat a little faster and her cheeks burned. That sense of dread returned and the knot in her stomach tightened. Something was about to happen. Laura was claiming revenge, and Poppy, chatting to her friends, had no idea. Lis felt sick.
‘Who’s Connor O’Grady?’
‘School psychopath,’ Laura said, matter-of-factly. ‘You don’t mess. Seriously.’
Fiona stepped forward, camera-phone raised. ‘Here he comes. Here he comes!’
A rugged youth with a zero crop pelted down the slope towards the bus turnaround. His hand was outstretched, carrying something that glinted in the lingering sunshine. Charging through the line of pupils waiting for the bus, he ploughed his way to Poppy, smashing onlookers out of his path. As her shocked friends began to protest, he clamped his hand around her thick ponytail and, with a flash of metal, it came away in his hand.
Lis took a step forwards as Laura and the girls howled with hyena laughter. Even from their safe distance, she saw Connor toss Poppy’s severed hair into the overgrown wasteland beyond the bus terminal.
One of Poppy’s mates shoved him aside, but he was already backing away, an ugly scowl on his face.
‘You’re a grass!’ he spat at Poppy, before legging it out of the school grounds.
> Poppy yelped. Her hands flew to her head, frantically feeling what hair remained. As realisation set in, she began to cry.
Lis’s mouth fell open. ‘Oh, my . . .’
‘Oh, relax. It’ll grow back. The bitch needed a trim anyway.’ Laura wiped away a tear of joy. ‘Did you get it all, Fi?’
‘Every second! YouTube here we come.’
‘Oh my God.’ Lis watched Poppy crying.
‘Gotta admit, that was pretty effing special!’ Laura grinned, satisfied.
Harry shook her head. ‘You’re evil. Did Poppy even grass on Connor?’
‘How should I know?’ Laura tossed her hair over her shoulder. ‘But maybe next time she’ll think twice before she opens her horsey mouth to grass me up.’
As the others strutted towards the bus stop, Lis remained at the wrought iron gates feeling sick. She’d seen some things in Bangor, but this was a whole other level of cruel. Her new friends were monsters.
Shadows
Despite the generous heat coming from the wood burner, the terrace beyond Lis’s bedroom was getting decidedly chilly as the evening closed in. The events of the afternoon weighed heavy on her mind. Lis had thought about it, and there was no way she could have stopped the attack on Poppy from happening. She hadn’t even known what was coming, and Laura was unstoppable – not to mention nasty and vindictive.
That said, surely better to be in with Laura than against her? As long as she kept her head down and did as Laura ordered, Lis figured the queen bee would have no reason to sting her. She didn’t like to admit it, but being around Laura today had made her feel more beautiful, more special. After all the crap she’d taken in Bangor, she needed that validation.
Sarah came out onto the terrace carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. ‘Oh, Lis, cheer up! You survived your first day. It’ll get better from here on in.’ Sarah poured Lis a glass of Pinot Grigio. ‘You’re only allowed this because it’s your first day back. Do not tell Mum.’
Lis laughed, pulling her legs into her chest. ‘I promise.’
‘Anyway, babe, tell me all about this nightmare.’