Fury (4 page)

Neil was leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

I wanted to ask him if it was true that everyone in Texas wore huge shoulder pads and had big hair, but then he caught my eye and smiled. I pretended I didn’t see him.

“
Neil!”
shouted Lexi.

“
Alex!”
replied Neil in the same tone.

“What did you do this time?”

“I locked Frank Bruno in the cleaners’ cupboard after school yesterday.”

“You did
what?”

“It’s all good. The cleaners found him this morning. I caught him trying to flush a Year Eight boy down the toilet. Thought he needed somewhere private to think about his actions. What did
you
do?”

Lexi pointed at me. “I’m just with this one.”

“I always knew the quiet ones were trouble.”

I frowned at Neil and opened my mouth to say something, but the Principal’s door flew open.

“Miss Boans!” called a raspy voice.

“Hey, no fair, why do you get to go before me?” said Neil. “I’ve been in the queue for ages.”

“’Cos she’s special,” replied Lexi and she gave me an unhelpful push toward the door. “Ladies first.”

Principal Hollerings’ office is exactly like his personality: without sentiment. There wasn’t a single framed photo or personal touch that indicated what his interests or hobbies might be. If he had any at all. The only thing on his desk was a tray labelled OUT with nothing in it and a tray labelled IN piled high with paper.

The school’s motto:
Animadverto Vestri. Remuneror Vestri. Vindico Vestri
was pinned to the wall behind him. It means:
See Yourself. Reward Yourself. Punish Yourself.

There was a guest chair propped against the wall and in it was Mr Carter.

“Sit down, please,” ordered Principal Hollerings.

“But Mr Carter—”

Mr Carter put out his palm and then pointed to the chair opposite Principal Hollerings. I opened my mouth, but then shut it again, plonking myself in the chair. I couldn’t believe it—Mr Carter just gave me the hand!

“Please change your tone to one more suitable for the severity of this situation,” said Principal Hollerings.

“Can’t you just ring my mum?” I suggested.

“Miss Boans, please don’t talk out of turn when you are addressing—actually, we have.”

“Really? You mean you managed to make contact? That’s
amazing! You must teach me how to do that.”

“Miss Boans!” Principal Hollerings’ thin lips grimaced.

Seriously, I had no idea what was wrong with me. I couldn’t help it. When someone attacks me I have to fight back. Isn’t that survival? Didn’t my mum teach me that?

“I managed to get in contact with your mother after Mr Carter alerted me to your … sudden departure yesterday.”

“Good.”

“Indeed, Miss Boans. I would be more than happy to despatch you to your mother to let the two of you sort out your behaviour. If not for the fact that she told me she is flying out for two weeks as of this morning. Did she not discuss this with you when you so promptly arrived home yesterday?”

“No. I didn’t see my mother when I got home yesterday. She must have come home at some point because I woke up to find—er,
lunch
—in the fridge. I don’t know. I must have slept through her leaving.”

Principal Hollerings shot a look at Mr Carter, who remained glassy-eyed.

“Your mother finds it fit to leave a seventeen-year-old—”

“Sixteen.”

“
Sixteen
-year-old daughter at home by herself while she jets off for two weeks? Extraordinary!”

I shrugged. “My mother is a very busy woman. I’m pretty independent. I made spag-bog-for-one for dinner last night.”

“Miss Boans,” said Principal Hollerings. He folded
his fingers together into a tepee. “I alerted your mother to your circumstances yesterday and do you know what she told me?”

“What? I mean, what,
sir?”

“She told me to deal with it myself
. As I see fit.
Barrister Boans may be a minor celebrity, but as the principal of this school, I expect more than that from her.
As I see fit!
Extraordinary.”

Principal Hollerings was staring at me in such a way that I began to get angry about who was supposed to be in the wrong here. Did he really think it was me? Well maybe I thought it was him for humiliating me over my embarrassment of a mother. Maybe I thought it was my mother herself, with her Gucci handbag hanging deceptively on the coat rack, but the rest of her somewhere else.

“Miss Boans, we much prefer the input of parents when it comes to matters like this, but seeing as this is not possible, then we must discipline you here.”

“Fine,” I said.

Which brought me back to the school motto, hanging behind Principal Hollerings’ balding head.
See Yourself. Reward Yourself. Punish Yourself.

Somewhere along the line, some old men like Principal Hollerings, who didn’t have any children themselves, decided they were going to base the school rules on something a dead Greek philosopher, like Hippocraps or whatever, once said about democracy.

The parents couldn’t get enough of it, all trying to move to East Rivermoor and clamouring to shove fistfuls of school fees down Principal Hollerings’ pants. It was going to be all about the students being treated as individuals, all their needs and special personalities taken care of. Obviously all the things our parents thought they deserved once.

In reality, it meant we could pretty much do what we wanted, as long as that didn’t mean getting into trouble. Then it became a little complicated, since we were supposed to act like adults and adults weren’t supposed to do things like skip classes. And just ’cos Hollerings couldn’t rap us across the knuckles, it didn’t mean we got anything less painful.

See Yourself. Reward Yourself. Punish Yourself.

“Is there anything you want to say for yourself?”

Anyone would think this was my last rites. “Can I please talk about what happened yesterday? I think there has been some mistake—”

Principal Hollerings sighed. “We can talk about yesterday until we are quite blue in the face, Miss Boans. The fact is that you marched out of a classroom—with a new student in tow no less—then disappeared. The fact is that you committed an offence. And what would have happened if you had become involved in an accident when you left the school grounds?”

Yeah, as if he would care if I got run over. He’d only care about being hauled to court by my mum, and the Parent and School Committee running after him carrying pitchforks and burning torches.

“As you are well aware, since we are a progressive school, we ask all our students to participate in setting their own punishment agendas. You are a good student, Miss Boans. Very consistent in your marks and your history teacher is very complimentary of your character, so that will all be held in your favour.”

I stared at Mr Carter. Mr Carter still refused to meet my eyes.

“Can I do detention with Mr Carter then?” I put on a stricken face.

The corners of Principal Hollerings’ mouth pulled up into a smile. Principal Hollerings never smiled. When he did it usually signalled something cruel and unusual. Something like
big
trouble.

“Do you honestly believe that will be punishment enough?”

“Yes,” I replied. “After all, didn’t I run away from History? I must hate it.”

“Let’s see about that,” replied Principal Hollerings. “I have asked another student to help judge on this matter. Bring her in Mr Carter, please.”

I twisted around in the uncomfortable Eames wire chair, currently etching a criss-cross brand into my flesh, to see a familiar blonde being ushered into the room. Jane Ayres gave me a sickening smile.

“Miss Ayres.”

“Principal Hollerings.”

Jane sat down next to Mr Carter. She crossed her leg and made sure the tip of her foot almost touched Mr Carter’s leg. I hated her.

“Miss Ayres, I have asked you in this morning to help assist with this matter. Thank you for inconveniencing yourself.”

“No inconvenience at all,” replied Jane.

“You are in Miss Boans’ History class, I believe?”

Jane inclined her head slightly by way of a nod. I wanted to knock her head off.

“Miss Boans here thinks that detention with Mr Carter will be sufficient for the incident yesterday. As a witness, and because we like our students to adjudicate on behalf of each other as equals, what would be your opinion?”

“What?” I exclaimed loudly as Jane opened her mouth to speak. “She was bloody outside the entire time! She didn’t see or hear a single—”

“Miss Boans!” Principal Hollerings raised his croaky voice. “Do not speak out of line again, do you hear?”

“As I understand,” said Jane softly. “Miss Boans is a very
attentive
History student. In fact, if I am not mistaken, History is her favourite subject.”

“Then,” said Principal Hollerings, “why would she suddenly depart class?”

“I believe, personally,” replied Jane, “that it has something to do with … interjectory factors. The influence of the new student she was with perhaps.”

I didn’t know what “interjectory” meant, but I sure knew what she was trying to imply.

“Noted,” said Principal Hollerings. “In that case detention with Mr Carter will not be acceptable. And I will assign another student to be—what do you young ones call it—
buddies
with the new student, this Miss Dashwood. Thank you Miss Ayres.”

If Jane could have beamed any harder right then, her entire head would have exploded. She went to get out of her seat, but Principal Hollerings signalled for her to sit down again.

“Since you are so helpful Miss Ayres, what would you deem to be sufficient punishment for Miss Boans?”

Now hang on. I’m pretty sure this wasn’t in our School Charter.

“I don’t wish to pass judgement or participate in hearsay…”

“Go on,” said Principal Hollerings.

“I believe Miss Boans holds a personal dislike of the canteen. She believes the food is lacking for her tastes. Perhaps her efforts can be directed to helping … improve the service?”

Principal Hollerings turned to me. “Indeed Miss Boans, is that true?”

“The canteen is a complete load of—”

“Then it is decided. Miss Boans, you will give up your lunch breaks and serve one week as canteen assistant.”

“But—!”

“Is there anything further Miss Ayres?”

“I think Miss Boans should be transferred to another History class.”

“Done!”

If Principal Hollerings had a little wooden hammer, he would be smacking it down and shouting “Sold! One Miss Eliza Boans to the nasty plastic blonde on the right!”

Principal Hollerings folded his arms happily. “You are all dismissed now.”

“Mr Carter—”

But Mr Carter turned away from me.

I stared from Principal Hollerings, looking pleased with himself behind his desk, to Mr Carter with his cold shoulder toward me and Jane Ayres with the smile on her face that said all her Christmases had come at once. I turned and stormed out of the office.

I almost knocked Neil over. Well, more like I almost knocked myself out on him.

Every time I thought of Neil, in my head he’s always five years old and, inexplicably,
blond.
And not so
tall.
Things have obviously changed. I took off without a word.

“Wait for me!” shouted Lexi as I hurried past. “Seeya, Neil.”

“Seeya Alex … and Eliza,” he added softly.

Lexi caught me by the elbow. “What was all that about?”

“Crap! I’ve been kicked out of Carter’s class.”

“So what does this have to do with Jane Ayre-head?”

“Absolutely nothing. And yet they let her decide everything! I can’t believe it.”

“You did break the rules and skip school, though,” said Lexi. “I guess you can’t argue against that.”

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed.

“So you’ll have to switch to Mr Gubler’s class? Apparently he’s so boring that he even bores himself to sleep. They can’t afford to jeopardise your marks. You need to get your mum onto this.”

“My mother’s gone interstate for two weeks and didn’t think to tell me. I had to find out through Principal Hollerings. You reckon she will care what teacher I do or don’t have for History?”

Lexi became quiet.

“And even worse, I have canteen duty. For a week!”

“I’m sorry,” said Lexi and she put her arm over my shoulder.

“Maybe you’ll get to do your detention with Neil. I tell you what, he’s got some major unresolved issues. Remind me again why we’re still friends with him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Neil is your friend, really. Not ours. Maybe you should drop him.”

“Maybe,” I said.

I don’t know. He’s been our friend—
my friend
—forever. Maybe it’s because our parents knew each other before we did; maybe ’cos we were born three days apart. Maybe it’s
because we’re both Sagittarians. Maybe it’s in the stars. It could be one of many things. Neil is just … Neil. Even if he’s a little tapped in the head.

“First class is English Lit. Yay. Come on, let’s go,” said Lexi and she pulled me into a right turn.

“Alexandria—
Lexi
—sounds like a very close friend,” says Dr Fadden, stating the obvious. He pauses for confirmation.

“Lexi is my best friend,” I reply and I rub my eyes hard with balled-up fists. “I know she is still here. I just know it. Can I please talk to her, or at least pass a message to her?”

“No,” replies Dr Fadden. “Not after what happened in the kitchen before. You will have to work with me, just like you are doing right now, to regain my trust. Then maybe you might get something in return.”

I can’t believe Dr Fadden is spinning this around. Maybe he thinks he can use his reverse psychology thing on me.

“But Lexi has nothing to do with this. She doesn’t deserve this! You have to believe me.”

“Alexandria was found with blood spattered all over her clothes. That is a fact,” says Dr Fadden. “You will have to provide me with more than just your pleas to get her out of here. Now, would you like me to go and make you another cup of coffee if it will make you more comfortable?”