Noughts and Crosses (9 page)

‘Police officers were drafted in to keep the peace as it was feared that nought extremists might try to take advantage of the volatile situation . . .’ the newscaster continued.

Jude started muttering under his breath and to be honest, I didn’t blame him. Even I was disgusted at that and I had a much longer fuse than my brother. Lynette took hold of my hand. She smiled at me and I could feel the anger seeping out of my body. Only Lynette and Sephy could do that – make all the rage that sometimes threatened to blow up inside me just fade to nothing. But
sometimes . . . sometimes I got so angry that I scared even myself.

The image on the screen cut from Shania falling over to Sephy shouting at the crowd. The TV camera zoomed in for a close-up. The newscaster announced as a voiceover, ‘Persephone Hadley, daughter of Kamal Hadley, had a hand in stopping the fracas . . .’

‘I’m going up to my room. I’ve got homework.’ I leapt to my feet.

I was too late. Those words spilt out of the telly before I could leave. I knew what to expect, what she was going to say, and it still made me wince. I left the room before anyone could say a word to me, but I knew my entire family was watching me leave. Closing the door quietly behind me, I leaned against it and took a deep breath.

Sephy . . .

‘They are all the same,’ I heard Jude scoff. ‘Crosses and noughts will never live in peace, let alone be friends and Callum’s just fooling himself if he thinks that Cross girl cares one clipped toenail about him. When push comes to shove she’ll dump him so fast his body will turn pear-shaped!’

‘You and I may know that, but he doesn’t,’ Dad surprised me by saying.

‘Well, the sooner he learns it, the better,’ Mum sighed.

‘And are you going to be the one that tells him?’ Dad asked. ‘’Cause I’m not.’

‘There’s not one of those Crosses that can be trusted,’ Jude declared.

No-one disagreed.

‘Someone should tell Callum the truth. Otherwise he’s
going to get hurt,’ Jude continued.

‘Are you volunteering?’ asked Dad.

‘I will, if I have to,’ replied Jude.

‘No! No, I’ll do it,’ Mum said. ‘I’ll do it.’

‘When?’

‘When I get round to it. Now back off, both of you,’ Mum snapped.

I couldn’t listen to any more. I went upstairs, my shoulders slumped, my head hanging down. For the first time ever, I wondered if maybe my family was right and I was wrong.

It was time for History. I hate History. It’s a total waste of time. There was only one good thing about it. Callum was down to take History as well. My friend Claire tried to sit next to me.

‘Er . . . Claire, could you sit somewhere else today. I’m saving this seat for someone.’

‘Who?’

‘Someone.’

Claire gave me a scathing look. ‘Be like that then.’ And she flounced off without a backwards glance. I sighed and watched the door eagerly. Callum and the other noughts were the last ones to come in. Others barged past them
and Callum let them get away with it. I wouldn’t have.

I smiled at Callum and indicated the seat next to me. Callum looked at me, then looked away and sat next to another nought. Others in the class looked from me to him and back again. My face burned with humiliation. How could he show me up like that? How could he? I know what he’d said the previous evening, but I wanted to show him I didn’t care who knew we were friends. It didn’t bother me one little bit. So why would Callum turn his back on me like that?

Mr Jason entered the room and launched into the lesson before he’d even shut the door. And within the space of two minutes it was clear he was in a foul mood – even worse than usual. Nobody could do anything right, especially the noughts.

‘Who can tell me one of the significant events of the year 146
BC
?’ Mr Jason asked tersely.

146
BC
! I mean, who cared?!! I decided to wind down and sleep with my eyes open until the lesson was over. Callum bent down to get something out of his bag. From my position I couldn’t see what.
CRACK
! Mr Jason smacked a big heavy History textbook down on Callum’s desk.

‘What’s the matter, boy?’ Mr Jason asked. ‘Too poor to even pay attention?’

Callum didn’t answer. Some in the class tittered. A few didn’t. Mr Jason was being a real pig and when he walked past me, I glared at him to let him know exactly what I thought about the way he was carrying on. That put his back up as well. I got told off twice in less than thirty minutes. But I didn’t care. Mr Jason wasn’t important. I
had other things on my mind – like how to prove to Callum that I really didn’t care if people knew he was my friend. In fact, I was proud of it. But how to do it…? And then it came to me! Eureka! The perfect solution. If only this lesson would hurry up and finish. All I could think about was lunch-time. I was desperate to be one of the first to get to the food hall. When at last the buzzer sounded, I was the first out of my chair. Trying to be the first out of the room, I barged past my teacher.

‘Er, d’you mind?’

‘Sorry, sir.’ I tried to carry on moving past him. Big mistake!

‘As you’re in such a tearing hurry you can wait until last to leave the classroom.’

‘But, sir…’

Mr Jason raised a warning hand. ‘Any arguments and you’ll be lucky to get lunch at all.’

I shut up. Mr Jason was a real, ill-tempered, ill-mannered slug. And he had to toil hard to work his way up to that. So I waited whilst everyone else grinned smugly at me as they strolled past. I was late getting to the food hall when today of all days I wanted to be one of the first. Callum and the other noughts already had their food and were sitting down by the time I walked through the food-hall doors. All the noughts were sitting at a table by themselves, just like yesterday.

I lined up in the food queue. I wasn’t going to do anything out of the ordinary, so why was my heart bumping in such a strange way? I collected my chicken and mushroom pie with the usual over-boiled trimmings, my jam tart with over-sweet custard and my carton of milk and,
taking a deep breath, I headed for Callum’s table. Callum and the other noughts glanced up as I approached their table, only to look away again almost immediately.

‘D’you mind if I join you?’

They all looked so shocked, it wasn’t even funny. The other noughts continued to look stunned, but Callum’s expression turned. I sat down before he could say no and before I could bottle out.

‘What d’you think you’re doing?’ he snapped.

‘Eating my lunch,’ I replied before cutting into my pie. I tried to smile at the other three noughts but they instantly returned to eating their food.

‘Hi. I’m Sephy Hadley.’ I thrust my hand under the nose of the nought girl I was sitting next to. She had a dark brown plaster on her forehead which stuck out on her pale white skin like a throbbing thumb. ‘Welcome to Heathcroft.’

She looked at my hand like it was about to bite her. Wiping her own hand on her tunic, she then took mine and shook it slowly.

‘I’m Shania,’ she said softly.

‘That’s a pretty name. What does it mean?’ I asked.

Shania shrugged. ‘It doesn’t mean anything.’

‘My mother told me my name means “serene night”,’ I laughed. ‘But Callum will tell you I’m anything but serene!’

Shania smiled at me. It was tentative and brief but at least it was genuine – whilst it lasted.

‘How’s your head?’ I asked, pointing at the plaster.

‘It’s OK. It’ll take more than a stone step to dent my head.’

I smiled. ‘That plaster’s a bit noticeable.’

‘They don’t sell pink plasters. Only dark brown ones.’ Shania shrugged.

My eyes widened at that. I’d never really thought about it before, but she was right. I’d never seen any pink plasters. Plasters were the colour of us Crosses, not the noughts.

‘Sephy, just what d’you think you’re doing?’ Mrs Bawden, the deputy headmistress, appeared from nowhere to scowl down at me.

‘Pardon?’

‘What’re you doing?’

‘I’m eating my lunch.’ I frowned.

‘Don’t be facetious.’

‘I’m not. I’m eating my lunch.’

‘Get back to your own table – at once.’ Mrs Bawden looked like she was about to erupt kittens.

I looked around. I was now the centre of attention – the very last thing I’d wanted.

‘B-but I’m sitting h-here,’ I stammered.

‘Get back to your own table –
NOW
!’

What table? I didn’t have my own table. And then it dawned on me exactly what Mrs Bawden meant. She wasn’t talking about me getting back to my own table. She was talking about me getting back to my own kind. I glanced around. Callum and the others weren’t looking at me. Everyone else was. They weren’t.

‘I’m sitting with my friend, Callum,’ I whispered. I could hardly hear my own voice so I have no idea how Mrs Bawden heard me – but she did. She grabbed my arm and pulled me out of my chair. I was still holding on to my tray, and everything on it went flying.

‘Persephone Hadley, you will come with me.’ Mrs Bawden yanked me away from the table and dragged me across the food hall. I tried to twist away from her, but she had a grip like a python on steroids. I turned my head this way and that. Wasn’t anyone going to do anything? Not from the look at it. I twisted sharply to look at Callum. He was watching but the moment I caught his eye, he looked away. I stopped struggling after that. I straightened up and followed Mrs Bawden to the headmaster’s office.

Callum had turned away from me. I didn’t care about the rest, but I cared about that. He’d turned away . . . Well, I was slow getting the message, but I’d finally got it. God knows, I’d finally got it.

I had to get out of there. I left my lunch half-eaten and walked out of the food hall without saying a word to any of the others.

I had to get out of there
.

I walked out of the food hall and out of the building and out of the school, my steps growing ever faster and more frantic – until by the time I was out of the school gates, I was running. Running until my back ached and
my feet hurt and my heart was ready to burst and still I kept running. I ran all the way out of the town and down to the beach. I collapsed onto the cool sand, my body bathed in sweat. I lay on my stomach and punched the sand. And again, and again. Until I was pounding it with both fists. Until my knuckles were red raw and bleeding.

And I wished more than anything else in the world that the sand beneath my fists was Sephy’s face.

I spotted our Mercedes in its usual place, just outside the main school building. As I approached it, a strange man got out and opened one of the back doors for me. He had mousy-brown hair which lay flat and lank against his head, and ice-light, ghost-like blue eyes.

‘Who are you?’

‘Karl, your new driver.’

‘Where’s Harry?’ I asked, climbing into the car.

‘He decided to move on.’

‘Without telling me?’

Karl shrugged and slammed the door shut. I watched him sit behind the wheel and start the car, a frown digging deep into my face.

‘Where did he move on to?’

‘I don’t know, Miss.’

‘Why did he want to leave?’