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by Chris Morphew


  ‘Peter,’ said Hanger, fixing me with his disapproving-teacher face, ‘the next time I find you causing a disruption like this, I will not hesitate to arrange a detention.’

  ‘Yes sir, Mr Hanger,’ I said, flipping him off with both hands as he turned away.

  ‘Seriously,’ said Luke. ‘That guy has issues.’

  ‘Whatever,’ I shrugged. ‘C’mon, Liam. Assembly.’

  The hall was half-full by the time we got inside.

  ‘What do you think this is about?’ asked Luke as we headed downstairs between the rows of red seats. ‘Can’t have anything to do with us, can it?’

  ‘Don’t see how,’ said Jordan. ‘Not after Reeve bailed us out. They still don’t know we know anything.’

  We slipped into a row of seats and edged our way across to the far end.

  ‘Does that matter, though?’ said Luke. ‘Calvin obviously still suspects us. And something tells me he’s not the innocent-until-proven-guilty type.’

  ‘He had his chance,’ I said, sitting down next to Jordan. ‘If he and Pryor wanted to do anything to us, they would have done it back in that interrogation room, not out here in front of the whole school.’

  ‘Unless they’ve decided to make an example of us.’

  ‘Nah mate, Calvin’s been ordered to keep it under wraps. Remember what Shackleton said in Crazy Bill’s recording? Until Tabitha wipes out everyone on the outside, he wants us all to believe that Phoenix is just an … ordinary …’

  Jordan and Luke were both staring at me.

  What? What did I do now?

  ‘Mr Shackleton?’ said Jordan. ‘He was the other voice in that recording?’

  ‘Y-yeah …’

  ‘You knew he was involved in all this?’ she hissed, obviously having a hard time keeping her voice down. ‘Way back then, you knew? And you didn’t tell us?’

  Oops.

  ‘No! I thought –’ I said, scrambling for the rest of the words. ‘I mean, yeah, it sounded like him, but I didn’t know – that was before –’

  ‘Before you believed any of this was actually happening,’ Luke finished.

  ‘Right!’ I said, nodding at Jordan. ‘Exactly. I never meant to –’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Luke. ‘It doesn’t make any difference now, anyway. We already figured out he was part of it.’

  Jordan opened her mouth, probably to say that it definitely did make a difference, but then she saw the expression on Luke’s face and decided to drop it.

  I sighed and turned my eyes down to the front of the hall. This morning was really not going my way.

  There was still no-one on the stage. The few times that Pryor actually bothered to show up for an assembly, she always waited until everyone was sitting down before she came out to talk to us. She liked to make an entrance.

  I turned back to Jordan. ‘How’s your mum?’

  ‘She’s fine.’

  ‘And the baby? Is everything – ?’

  ‘Yeah, everything’s fine.’

  ‘Okay, great,’ I said. ‘That’s good.’

  Oh, yeah. We were totally connecting.

  I never thought Pryor arriving could make my life less awkward, but I was almost relieved when she finally appeared on the stage.

  She walked out from behind a curtain, footsteps booming out into the hall. The whole place fell silent. She crossed to the lectern at the front of the stage, her giant mole casting a shadow across her chin under the glow of the stage lights. Like sunset over Uluru.

  There was a loud creaking sound as she adjusted the microphone in front of her.

  ‘Good morning, everyone,’ she said, smiling up at us. ‘Thank you for joining me here on such short notice. I have an announcement to share with you all regarding an important change in school policy.’

  ‘Great,’ I said under my breath. The last important change had been bringing in that bloody curfew. And the way things had been going for us lately, this latest announcement would probably be just as painful.

  The next words out of Pryor’s mouth turned that probably into a definitely.

  ‘Jordan Burke, Luke Hunter, and Peter Weir,’ she said, stretching a hand out towards us. ‘Would you three please join me on stage?’

  Chapter 3

  MONDAY, MAY 18

  87 DAYS

  Two hundred faces turned to stare at us.

  Stay calm, I ordered myself. Don’t do anything stupid.

  She wouldn’t do anything to us. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

  I glanced sideways at the others. Luke looked stunned. Jordan was already getting up, nudging him to move. I stood up and started making my way along the row, shuffling awkwardly over other people’s knees and feet.

  Pryor stared up at us, hands gripping the sides of her lectern a bit too eagerly. I watched her face, looking for some clue about how this was going to play out, but she wasn’t giving anything away. Her usual fake smile was pasted across her face.

  I stopped at the end of the row.

  I could take her, I thought wildly.

  She was by herself. Unarmed. If we had to, the three of us could take her out right there on the stage.

  And then what, idiot?

  As much as I hated to admit it, Pryor wasn’t a moron. If she was coming after us, she would’ve already planned for an escape attempt. There’d be half a dozen security officers waiting outside, ready to grab us if we tried to do a runner.

  ‘Hurry up,’ Jordan whispered, poking me in the back, and I headed down the stairs to the stage.

  The hall was silent. Waiting.

  Not that anyone knew what was really going on in this place, but the vibe between us and Pryor was pretty hard to miss. They could tell something was up.

  And if they liked hearing about Luke’s beating, I had a feeling they would love whatever was coming up next.

  I could hear Jordan breathing behind me. Steady. Not letting the pressure get to her.

  Keep smiling, I thought. Just keep – A sharp crack of noise from the stage broke the silence. It caught me off guard, and I almost face-planted into the bottom step. I looked up at Pryor, my mouth dropping open a bit.

  She was clapping.

  Some kids started joining in, and by the time we got up onto the stage, the whole school was applauding us. Applauding with no idea why, but hey, that’s what you do at school.

  Up the back of the hall, Cathryn, Tank and Mike – the people who used to be my best mates in this place – were on their feet, giving us an extremely sarcastic standing ovation. I mouthed a few choice obscenities at them and walked the last few steps to the middle of the stage. I’d never realised how massive this place was until I was standing at the bottom of it.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Pryor, and the clapping died down.

  She waited, letting the silence drag, giving us time to get good and freaked out.

  I kept grinning out at the audience, trying to play up the class clown bit. Classic Peter, busted by the principal again. Nothing to see here, folks.

  Jordan’s face was blank, but I could hear the tap-tap-tap of twitchy fingers drumming against her leg. She was focused, calculating, getting ready to deal with whatever Pryor was about to throw at us.

  Luke was a deer in the headlights.

  ‘As you all know,’ said Pryor, finally getting on with it, ‘Phoenix High School is an institution which prides itself on a well-established culture of openness, honesty, and mutual respect among staff and students.’

  Yeah, I thought, and we also fly to school using our magic jetpacks.

  ‘These are values that we cherish,’ Pryor continued. ‘And today we take those values one step further. I am excited to announce a brand-new program that will revolutionise communication between myself and the students of Phoenix High.’

  She waved a hand at Jordan, Luke and me. ‘It is with great pleasure that I present your new staff-student liaison officers!’

  Jordan’s fingers stopped drumming.

 
Applause filled the hall again. Pryor beamed, clapping like we’d just discovered a cure for cancer.

  Staff-student what? What was that supposed to mean?

  ‘From now on,’ said Pryor, killing the applause, ‘if you have any suggestions for improving the way we do things here at Phoenix High, any issues that you would like to raise, any – dare I say it – complaints that you would like make,’ she waved her hand at us again, ‘you may address them to one of these three students.’

  ‘Wh –?’ I began, but Jordan kicked me in the ankle before I could get the words out.

  ‘Don’t be an idiot,’ she whispered.

  ‘Starting this week, Jordan, Luke and Peter will be attending regular meetings in my office to discuss the matters you bring to their attention,’ Pryor continued. ‘They will also be engaged in a host of other activities designed to improve the experience of all students here at Phoenix High.’

  Pryor turned back to us.

  ‘Congratulations!’ she said, kicking off yet another round of applause. She stepped away from the lectern, reaching out to shake our hands. ‘I’m sure we’re going to love working together.’

  ‘She’s insane,’ I said, as we headed back across the grass to the science block. ‘If she thinks I’m actually going to go along with this –’

  ‘Of course you are,’ said Jordan impatiently.

  ‘We’re all going along with it. What choice do we have?’

  I didn’t answer. She was right, but it still felt good to complain about it.

  ‘We should’ve known something like this was coming,’ said Luke. ‘Calvin told us he and Pryor were going to find us something “constructive” to do with our time.’

  ‘They’re trying to distract us,’ Jordan agreed. ‘Keep us busy.’

  ‘Yeah, makes sense,’ I admitted. ‘Can’t go off saving the world if we’re stuck in Pryor’s office. Plus, it gives her the perfect excuse to keep an eye on … what’s the matter?’

  Jordan was squeezing her eyes shut, hands at her temples. ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Just a headache.’

  ‘Anything I can do?’ I asked. ‘You want some water?’

  She gave me a weird look and kept walking.

  By the time we got to our science room, everyone was pulling out their laptops to write up the prac we’d done last lesson. Jordan mumbled a quick apology to Ms Benson, and we went up the back to our usual bench.

  Cat, Tank and Mike were at the bench in front, laptops open.

  ‘Mike,’ I heard Tank whisper as I walked past, ‘how do you spell “polypeptide”?’

  ‘Use the spell check, idiot,’ said Mike, shaking his head.

  Tank laughed. ‘Oh, yeah.’

  I couldn’t help smirking at them as I reached for my laptop. Tank was stupidity in its purest form. He was kind of like a caveman that Mike and I were training up to fit into modern society.

  Or had been, until they’d all decided to drop me from the group.

  ‘Hey, man,’ said Mike, spinning around on his stool, a massive grin on his face. He stuck both his thumbs up at me and said, ‘Congratulations on the big promotion!’

  ‘Get stuffed,’ I said, already wishing we’d sat somewhere else. ‘You think I asked for this?’

  ‘Didn’t hear you saying no,’ he said. Tank started laughing next to him.

  ‘Right,’ I said, ‘because I definitely want to be spending more time in Pryor’s office.’

  I waited for Cat to chime in, but she was staring determinedly at her screen.

  Oh, right, I thought, wrenching my laptop open violently. Just ignore me and maybe I’ ll go away.

  Like it was my fault things had gotten weird between us.

  ‘Listen,’ said Mike, still grinning like an idiot, ‘I’ve got some suggestions for you to give Pryor the next time you see her. How about –?’

  ‘How about you shut up?’ I said, almost knocking my stool over as I dived across the table towards him, my rage suddenly boiling over.

  Mike held his hands up in front of him. ‘Whoa, settle down, Pete. I was only –’

  ‘Is there a problem, gentlemen?’ said Benson, looking up from across the room.

  ‘No, miss!’ I said, dropping back down onto my seat.

  Mike turned back to his work, mumbling something about anger issues. I spent the rest of the morning resisting the temptation to punch him in the back of the head.

  As soon as we got out to recess, Jordan, Luke and I were mobbed by a bunch of Year 7s.

  ‘Hey, you guys are the … the staff-student things, right?’ said a freckle-faced girl I sort of recognised.

  ‘Uh-huh,’ said Luke.

  ‘We have some ideas for you,’ said one of the hobbits from this morning, flipping to a list in the back of his homework diary.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Freckles. ‘We think it’s slack how the Year 8s always come in and steal all the handball courts.’

  ‘Their teachers always let them out early!’ said another girl. Jenny or something. ‘It’s so unfair! There should be reserved handball courts just for Year 7s.’

  I closed my eyes. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Of course we are,’ said Freckles.

  ‘Okay, whatever,’ I said, walking away.

  ‘Hang on, there’s more!’ said the hobbit, waving the diary at us. ‘We reckon –’

  ‘Why don’t we take one thing at a time?’ said Jordan, with much more patience than they deserved.

  ‘Oh,’ said Freckles, looking disappointed. ‘Um, okay.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said the hobbit. They backed away, whispering to each other.

  But it didn’t last long. For the rest of the day, it seemed like everywhere I turned there was either an idiot Year 7 asking if we could put Coke in the bubblers or a drop-kick Year 12 coming out with a comedic gem like, ‘I have a suggestion: Pryor sucks!’

  By the end of the day, I was nearly ready to strangle someone. Jordan and Luke had started out calm about the whole thing, but I reckon they were both pretty close to losing it too.

  ‘It’ll get better,’ said Jordan, as we walked out past the front office. ‘It’s only the first day. People will get over it and leave us alone again.’

  ‘They’d better,’ I said. ‘Because, I swear, the next person –’

  ‘Excuse me,’ called a voice from behind us.

  ‘What? ’ I growled, spun around, then jumped back. ‘Oh. Uh, I mean, what can I do for you, miss?’

  It was Mrs Stapleton, the deputy principal.

  ‘I’m glad I caught you three before you slipped out,’ she said, ignoring the fact that I’d just shouted in her face. She’s good like that. ‘I have a message for you.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Right. What is it, miss?’

  ‘Your first meeting with Ms Pryor has been scheduled for tomorrow morning.’ Staples paused, fixing me with an expression I couldn’t figure out. ‘She said to assure you she will do whatever is necessary to ensure a secure future for this town and its students. She trusts you will agree to co-operate.’

  Chapter 4

  TUESDAY, MAY 19

  86 DAYS

  I opened the cereal box one-handed and started shaking cornflakes into a bowl without looking, eyes focused on the book in my other hand.

  ‘Utopia? ’ said Mum, glancing at the cover as she walked past. ‘Don’t you have a class novel you’re supposed to be reading?’

  ‘Yeah, kind of,’ I said.

  ‘And you’re reading that instead because …?’

  ‘Because studying a book in class is a sure-fire way to take all the fun out of reading it,’ I said, flipping the page with my thumb.

  ‘Funny,’ Mum pulled some toast out of the toaster. ‘My kids don’t seem to mind.’

  ‘That’s because your class novel is The Very Hungry Caterpillar,’ I said. ‘Trust me, if there was a felt-board version of our book, I’d be all over it.’

  I looked down and realised my cereal bowl was overflowing. I scraped the spilled cornflakes
up from the bench with my hand and dumped them back in the box.

  ‘Morning,’ said Dad, doing up his tie as he walked into the kitchen. Mum kissed him for much longer than was strictly necessary and stuck a piece of toast in his mouth. I made a gagging noise and reached for the milk. My parents have been together twenty years and they’re still completely gross with each other.

  ‘So,’ said Dad through a bite of toast, ‘what are we arguing about this morning?’

  ‘The usual,’ I said, going back to my book. ‘Peter has a great deal of potential, but he needs to start applying himself in class.’

  Dad started to laugh, but choked it down into a cough as Mum turned around again. Truth is, he was just as bad as me in high school.

  ‘Don’t encourage him,’ said Mum, her highly trained kindergarten-teacher eyes not missing a thing. ‘You going to be home for dinner tonight?’

  ‘I’ll try to be,’ said Dad, straightening his tie. He glanced at me, then back at Mum. ‘There was an incident in the park on Sunday that I need to write up for the Herald –’

  I coughed up a mouthful of cereal.

  ‘– and Mr Shackleton has just brought forward the deadline on this project they’ve got me working on, so I might have to stay back a bit.’

  ‘What’s the project?’ I asked, recovering the use of my lungs.

  ‘Just some paperwork,’ he said automatically. ‘It’s nothing, really. Guess I’d better get to it, though. See you guys tonight.’ He bit down on his toast again and left the kitchen, clapping me around the shoulder on his way past.

  ‘I should get moving, too,’ said Mum, picking up her basket full of teacher stuff. ‘Have fun at school. Hope your meeting with Ms Pryor goes well.’

  ‘Yeah, awesome,’ I said.

  Mum sighed and put her arm around me. ‘At least promise that you won’t get me called in for a meeting with her.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ I said.

  I hadn’t told Mum or Dad about the liaison thing, but Phoenix High and Phoenix Primary are technically two halves of the same school, so Mum had read about it in a staff bulletin or something and come home all excited.

  ‘All right,’ she said, ‘see you tonight.’

 

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