by Katie M John
His mind tracked back to the event at the house when Paulina had made it clear she’d happily jump his bones at the click of his fingers. The whole incident had been weird. Paulina was weird; cute, but way too kooky. And the spooky house-of-horrors shit that had come afterwards, had almost made him file the whole event under “dream.” He hadn’t seen Paulina since. In fact, he barely saw her at all. In the several weeks they’d shared the grounds of Coldstone House, he could count on one hand the times he had seen her. She didn’t dine with them, and his Aunt Penelope seemed happy enough to pretend she wasn’t even there. (Clearly she was another act of family sufferance.) Maybe, she’d rather I was slightly less present, he thought.
Eventually, Jeremiah stood and walked towards the netball courts, which were a poor substitute for a proper basketball court. He put his ear buds in and headed out into the dank English weather. God, how this place is beginning to get me down, he thought.
*
Fox watched Jeremiah from the window of the second-story classroom. He hadn’t been out on the netball court for long before he was joined by a couple of other students and now they were playing competitively, rushing at each other and speeding all over the court. Fox turned her attention back to her book. She was meant to be silently reading a chapter of an Art History book on the Surrealist Movement so she could present her, “Area of Expertise,” to the rest of the class in twenty minutes. She’d been lucky, having visited a surrealist exhibition on their last holiday in France. However, it might have been better if she had been given another topic, as then she wouldn’t have had time to be daydream out the window whilst looking at Mr. Chase. She challenged herself to stay focused. It didn’t last for long.
When her attention wandered back out towards the court, she was surprised to see events had taken a turn and that the friendly game had turned into a full-on altercation. Whatever had happened in her absence had not made David Shoreditch, a giant bully of a boy, very happy, and he was now squaring up to Jeremiah in classic ape-man fashion. Fox knew she should alert Mr. Brentford to what was happening, but part of her was curious to see how Jeremiah would handle himself. The worst that could happen was he might get lumped, And that might be slightly amusing, the internal said with a wicked a smile.
Jeremiah started by deflecting. He bent down to pick up the ball as if David’s challenge was slightly insignificant, but David saw it purely as a chance to get in an early point; he nudged Jeremiah with his foot, so he was thrown slightly off balance. It was clear Jeremiah would rather avoid a confrontation but the time to let things go had passed. Fox leaned closer into the window and gave it her full attention. Jeremiah stood and seemed to laugh. As he walked up to David, he stroked his jaw as if weighing up some big decision. David greeted him with arms spread wide and his chest puffed out. Do they know how totally ridiculous they look when they do that? the internal asked.
Jeremiah said something Fox couldn’t lip-read. Whatever it was, David became flooded with aggressive energy. Fox watched for a moment, curious about how she could see the faint shimmer of his aura. She closed her eyes tightly thinking maybe it was a visual disturbance. When she opened them, she could see that David’s aura was now a deep purple and red. She quietly cursed. Seeing auras wasn’t exactly on her preferred gifts list – but then again, it seemed she pretty much bummed out on most of her emerging gifts.
David bounced up and down on the spot and his neck craned forward as he started shouting. The other two guys who were with him, came up beside him and tried to reason with him, but he was way beyond that. The Shoreditch rage had descended and there was only one way it was likely to turn out. Shoreditch was notorious for his temper tantrums and had spent almost as many days of his school life excluded as he had in attendance.
On his very first day of school, he’d managed to break Joe Lions’ nose and it had set a pattern of violence that had dogged their school year. As Fox expected, Jeremiah began to back away. As I thought; all talk and no walk, the internal snarked. When Jeremiah thought he was far enough away, he foolishly turned his back on Shoreditch and headed off in the direction of the gate. Shoreditch broke free of his friends’ arms and thundered after Jeremiah like a bull on charge. Fox leaped from her seat, regretting her decision not to alert Mr. Brentford earlier. She’d misjudged the situation as a scrap but it was about to get dangerously out of control.
“Mr. Brentford!” she yelled across the classroom, “There’s a fight!” With that battle-cry, the whole class scrambled across chairs and tables to crush behind her, pushing her up against the glass so she had to press her hands to the glass to steady herself.
“Someone go to the office!” Mr. Brentford’s command was pretty pointless as all of the class were in their gladiatorial spectator mode. Nobody was shifting until blood was spilled.
Shoreditch came within striking distance of Jeremiah and extended his arm in order to make his catch. Jeremiah had heard the sound of the charge but had continued on with his course of action. It had been a bluff. As Shoreditch’s fist went to make a grab for him, he turned at lightning speed, took hold of Shoreditch’s arm, and twisted it hard so that Shoreditch’s body turned with it and was completely thrown off balance. He landed with a humiliating thud onto the floor. He fought against his captor but Jeremiah stood firm as Shoreditch flopped around. When his rage caused a sudden burst of energy, Jeremiah got the heel of his boot and pushed it down onto Shoreditch’s neck so he was forced into the ground.
“’s alright, Sir – looks like Chase has it covered.”
The whole of the class whooped at Chase’s triumphant victory. Some of the boys had opened the window and were hanging out, cheering. The sound caused Jeremiah to turn and look up, where he clocked Fox looking at him. Shoreditch, a natural-born fighter, saw a golden opportunity with his opponent’s lack of attention and took his chance, bringing his foot up and kicking Jeremiah in the chest. The blow was hard enough for him to lose his grip and reel backwards. Jeremiah clutched his chest and the crowd booed.
Fox felt her anger surge. If the bloody idiots hadn’t been acting so stupid, Jeremiah wouldn’t have been distracted.
“Shut up! Shut up! It’s your fault he’s hurt,” she shouted.
Her classmates fell silent, more with surprise at Fox’s overreaction than out of respect. Their silence was only momentary. Shoreditch was going in for a right hook but Jeremiah managed to get his breath back just in time and danced sideways away from it.
Fox butted her way through the mob and sped at breakneck speed down the half-turn stairs and through the heavy double doors out onto the playground. She ran over to the court, adrenalin allowing her to carry the pain of her burning lungs and the excruciating pain from the wound in her back, which re-opened as she ran. She heard the jangle of keys from the teachers’ lanyards who followed behind her and she hoped they’d all get there before Shoreditch knocked Jeremiah out. Fox crashed through the gate and towards the scrapping boys. She had no idea what she was going to do when she got there. From a distance, she could hear the chants of her classmates,
“Go, Foxy! Go, Foxy!”
Jeremiah turned to see her running towards her and he shouted, “Don’t Fox, get back! I’ve got this…” Shoreditch landed a blow to the side of Jeremiah’s head, grazing his ear with a stinger.
The sound of a male staff member bellowed across the court. “Stop it! That’s enough!”
Jeremiah wrapped his leg around the back of Shoreditch’s kneecaps forcing him to the ground. Fox took the chance to run head-down towards him, shoving into the side of him and sending him sprawling onto the floor. He fell hard on his hip, and the pain caused him to rock backwards and forwards.
“I said, that’s enough!” The booming voice of the Deputy Head drew both Fox and Jeremiah to a standstill.
Jeremiah was bent double, catching his breath, but he looked up from under his mop of hair and flashed Fox a smile, which was a mixture of bemusement and impressed surprise. Sensing everything was ov
er, the Deputy Head turned up to the cheering crowd at the window and bellowed,
“Close that window!”
Which they did, just after they shouted one last, “Go, Foxy!”
Throughout her entire schooling, Fox had never been reprimanded by a senior member of staff, and now her heart pounded and she felt sick. She was also completely confused as to what she was doing in the situation. The last time she remembered having had a sensible thought was back in the classroom. Several more male members of staff jogged over to support and two of them went over to Shoreditch, helping him to stand and then guiding him back towards the main building.
“Miss Meadowsweet, would you care to explain yourself?”
Jeremiah began to speak, “She was just…” but he was cut off by the Deputy’s raised hand. “I don’t recall asking you, Mr. Chase.”
Fox shifted her weight between her feet and dipped her head before croaking out, “I was just trying to help.”
“By involving yourself in a fight. On today of all days?”
Fox mumbled an apology but clearly, the Deputy was having a really bad day.
“I’ve had to leave a meeting with the team of grief counsellors to come and sort this out. I’ve got students weeping all over the place; I’ve had the police interviewing members of my staff. I’ve had to deal with crazy hysteria about some black bird that smashed through a window, and now, I have a full on fight involving students who really should know better.” He took a deep breath and turned to Jeremiah, “And I’m sure your father is going to be absolutely delighted by the news his son has managed to make such a good impression during his first weeks here.”
“I’m truly sorry, Sir.”
“Yes, well I’m sure, being it involved our good friend Mr. Shoreditch, you’ve probably already been taught a lesson. You have to understand I can’t let either of you go unpunished.”
“That’s not fair!” Fox complained.
“Sorry, but at the end of the day, the two of you have been involved in a serious physical fight. One in which, Miss Meadowsweet, you clearly took a decision to attack a boy who was already down.”
“B…but,” her response trailed off. He was right, although she couldn’t have believed just a couple of hours ago she would ever be guilty of physically attacking somebody.
“Given the circumstances, I’m going to be lenient; you must have had a terrible shock this morning what with the news about Martha. As for you, Mr. Chase, I’d like to see you in my office within the next hour.”
“Yes, Sir!”
“And you, Miss Meadowsweet – get yourself to the medical room; you’re bleeding. Jeremiah, be a gentleman and make sure she gets there alright – and whilst you’re there, get an icepack for that eye.”
The Deputy and his staff headed back towards the warmth of the school building. Once they were out of earshot, Jeremiah let out a low whistle. “Well, I guess a thank you is in order,” he said, smiling.
“Yeah, well, I do that all the time; it’s part of the job.”
Jeremiah looked at her with a cocked eyebrow and asked, “What job?”
“Being Superwoman,” she laughed, and he joined in.
As the adrenalin began to subside, the pain in her back flared, and she winced. Jeremiah looked at her hard, but she turned her grimace into a less than convincing smile.
“You’re hurt – is it your back? Did you damage it again?
She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s nothing. Really. It’s just a little sore.”
“Yep, you made a pretty spectacular job of saving me. They’ll be crowning you with laurels and throwing rose petals at you next time they see you.”
“It’s not funny. I’m not going to live this down for like… forever!” she groaned.
“Imagine what it’s going to be like for me; I had a girl save my ass.”
“You were doing alright until the mob got involved.”
“I can hold my own,” he said with a tinge of pride.
Fox nodded and gave a sideways glance in the opposite direction. If he’d been expecting some kind of swoon, he was mistaken.
“Come on, let me take you to the medical room, and when I’ve collected my slap on the wrist, I’ll come back and take you for a coffee. How does that sound?”
Fox smiled her reply through a wince. “Sure thing.”
Jeremiah dropped Fox of at the medical room and headed to the Deputy’s office.
*
“Master Chase, you need to understand your father has made this move for your own good. You were out of control in New York and this is meant to be a chance for you to get your act together and start thinking about the man you will be required to be when you come of age,” Mr. Hound, the Headteacher, said as he flexed his folded knuckles. He paused, expecting a form of grovelling apology. It didn’t come. “I’m sure he’s going to be very disappointed you found yourself embroiled in a fight today, and as for Miss Meadowsweet’s uncharacteristic involvement, I think you need to go home and do some serious reflection on your responsibility for her dramatic change of character.”
Jeremiah crossed his leg across his knee and leant back in the chair. The thought of Fox rushing to his side because of some charismatic wizardry made him smile. It was a move that irritated Mr. Hound; he wasn’t used to his students being so dismissive of his authority.
“I think Miss Meadowsweet is perfectly capable of changing her character without my interference,” Jeremiah said as he stared coolly at the man across the desk.
“Your arrogance may be seen as a strength in New York City but it is not viewed as a strength here; do you understand? I will not tolerate the Chase Empire settling its court in my school.”
“Understood, Sir,” Jeremiah said, unfolding his legs and leaning his elbows on the desk. “It really isn’t the impression I wanted to put forward.”
“Quite,” Mr. Hound replied, slightly taken off guard by Jeremiah’s sudden switch to humility. “So, I think you should prove to me just how serious you are about becoming part of this community and you should show off your talents in a more positive way rather than flashing your karate skills.”
“Jujitsu, Sir.”
“The particulars are irrelevant, Mr. Chase,” Mr. Hound said, irritated.
“Yes, of course, Sir. Sorry.”
“So as a gesture of your reform, you are going to do two things. Firstly, you are to take a post on the school newspaper, and secondly, you are going to do one after school club a week coaching the Year Seven basketball team.”
Jeremiah ran through the deal in his head. Working on the school newspaper might be fun, but coaching the Year Seven’s basketball didn’t hold quite the same charms. He began to protest, “But, Sir, I haven’t any experience in coaching and…”
Mr. Hound raised a hand and steadied his gaze, “Practice is on Tuesday, three o’clock sharp. They have their first county match at the beginning of next month.”
Jeremiah sighed and stood. As his hand touched the doorknob, Mr. Hound offered his parting shot, “Of course, if we win, I’m sure we can make this little incident disappear before your father hears about it.”
Jeremiah turned and smiled. He had to hand it to the man; Hound wasn’t half as spineless as he’d first appeared.
*
Once at the canteen, they ordered their coffees and took a seat. Now all the drama had died down, Fox felt a little ridiculous. She hoped the twenty minutes they had until next lesson would pass quickly - and mainly quietly. She sipped at her coffee and looked out of the window, trying to look as unapproachable as possible. Jeremiah was busy attending to his war wounds so didn’t notice her sulky behaviour. She was still trying to process why on earth she had run into the situation like a kamikaze. Fox looked over at him and watched as he drank his coffee. The bruise on his cheek was beginning to show and a flash of sympathy flared in her.
“What did you say to him?” she asked.
“Who?”
“Shoreditch. What did you
say to set him off on one?”
“Oh, that.” Jeremiah did a quick scan of the room and leaned in. “I told him his ball skills sucked.” He smiled conspiratorially.
Fox wrinkled her forehead, “Really, was that all you said?”
“Pretty much.”
She nodded and took a sip from her coffee repeating his words in a whisper, “Pretty much! Yeah, sure.”
Fox could feel the blood of her back wound dampening her shirt. “I think I’ve damaged my back.”
“Should I take a look?”
“No,” she said, flushing with the thought of Jeremiah touching her. “I’m going to head home and I’ll get mum to look at it – it had nearly healed, so I’m sure it’s not serious.”
Jeremiah’s brow furrowed. “Nearly healed? Already? Wow, you’re a quick healer.”
“Runs in the genes,” Fox offered, unable to look him in the eye.
The bell rang. They picked up their coffee cups and ditched them in the bin before heading out the door.
“It’s started to rain,” Fox said, grumpily.
“It’s always raining,” Jeremiah replied.
“Still want to go up to The Rookeries this evening?” she asked, hoping that the dismal weather had put him off.
“Sure; we’ll be indoors anyway. But only if you’re feeling up to it.”
“I’ll be fine. Can’t wait.”
11
Jeremiah had arranged to meet Fox in the little carpark outside Sara’s. He arrived early and took the opportunity to grab some takeout coffees. Fox had arrived in his absence and was now leant against his car with her earbuds in.