Chapter 11

Wednesday

Marissa

I don't know where that came from, I really don't. Alban's been sticking up for me all week, here and there, it just seemed fair to help him out. And... Dr Adams was going for him, for some reason. I know he's a big fan of The Programme, that's been obvious from the start, but this was something else. It's almost like he's trying to break Alban down, make him crack or something.

And he looked so small. He's always in control, usually, but he's usually in the background. When he steps forward, he does his little bit, and then he's gone again, back into the paintwork, or more likely on to the next needy soul. There he was the centre of attention, and he didn't like it. He didn't like the stares, didn't like the focus of everyone being on him — I wonder if that was deliberate by Dr Adams.

There would, no doubt, be repercussions, but on the plus side we did get out of General Studies early.

"You look tense." Alban said, quietly, quickly catching up to me.

"A little." I admitted. "It's not what you think, though."

"Oh?"

"That... that's done, now. I'm not looking forward to gym."

"I thought you liked gym? You're good, you've always seemed to be into it."

"You watch?"

"Sometimes. I'm taking PE, and that's after break, so I don't have to take part. I'm usually either helping out with the Year 8's in the small hall, or I help out with the equipment. You like vault, but you're better on the asymmetric bars." I blushed a little at that — it was good to feel the blood pumping that much for something that wasn't embarrassment at being on show.

"It's not the gym itself — we have to use the other changing rooms, remember."

"All in hand." He assured me, the broad smile reappearing quickly. "Evan and Kevin were going to look after you, before and after. Now that we've gotten out early, you can be ready before anyone arrives. Of course, there's not much to do in the way of getting ready." Even then his stare didn't leave my eyes once.

"Thank you."

"Not a problem." He started to leave, and I clutched at his arm.

"Why do you do all this?"

"All what?"

"Look out for people — me, this week, but... 'Jump', the group yesterday at break... why?" Something flicked in his head, his eyes changed, his whole stance tensed, like he was on watch for something.

"Does it matter?" Did it? It shouldn't, really. Why do we look these gift horses in the mouth? Here was a guy doing, essentially, the right things. He looked out for others, helped those that couldn't help themselves... I wasn't expecting an ulterior motive, but something just didn't seem right. Human nature being what it is, I guess I was expecting to be let down.

"I don't know." I admitted. "It shouldn't, I suppose, but it does." I must have said something right, because he relaxed a little. The wariness in his eyes didn't disappear, though.

"It's just... the right thing to do. Not enough people do what's right, and the world's a worse place because of it."

"Well... thank you anyway."

"Really, it's not a problem." He tried to assure me, but he was desperate to get away, you could see it in the way he started to turn his body away, although he was still looking at me.

"You don't like that question, do you?" That stopped him. It wasn't personal, as such, but it was... it didn't peek into his history or the dark recesses of himself, but it did mean revealing something.

"No." he admitted, after a second's thought. "It's... It's sad that anyone has to justify doing the right thing. I understand why people doubt... but it's sad." Which it was, but... this was so at odds with what he and Conner had been saying in General Studies. I mean, they were different, fair enough, but they were supposed to be more guarded, more out of touch with everyone else.

"So what makes you different?"

"I have to go." He pointed vaguely ahead, waving at something unseen — something that didn't exist, I guessed.

"No, you don't." I pointed out. "That's sad, that you won't trust me enough to say, but I understand why. Go on, if you must..."

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Just sort of... step sideways from everything. Everyone else goes with the flow of the conversation, just lets it happen, you don't get caught up in it, go where you want to go with it. Why are you so interested in why I help people?"

Which was some question. I kept telling myself that I didn't — no, that I couldn't — care, but it was happening anyway. He was... I liked him. Too late for anything else, too late to stop it, too late to try and change it. I liked him. Which meant I had to find out if I could tell him the truth. And that meant telling the truth.

"I'm curious. You intrigue me. I... I like you, Alban, and you know how hard that is to admit. It's as hard for you, and you won't say it... yet." He looked about, ushering me over to the side of the corridor, away from... well, from nobody, really.

"Look, Marissa, it's... I can say it. I like you too, and... yes, like that. I just can't do anything about it."

"Neither can I." I admitted.

"So... we're back to 'why'?"

"Because I want to change that." I realised that as I was saying it. "I want to tell you what's keeping everyone out. I want you to tell me what's keeping everyone out... I want to trust you." I have no idea what the expression was that passed across his face, right then, but I hope I never, ever see it again. There was loss, sadness, guilt... a hole in his soul that just dragged you into his eyes.

"Then," he finally said, turning to walk away, "you should give up now."

Alban

That hurt more than I thought it would. It shouldn't, I shouldn't have let her get that close — I don't have the first clue how she did get that close. One minute it's a passing favour, keep someone off her back, a few words here and there, like I've done dozens of times before, and suddenly she's seeping through the cracks.

I wanted to leave, just get away from it all, but there were things that needed to be done. I had lessons, the year eights needed badminton nets set out, there was the remedial maths group at break, and the drugs rehab session at lunch.

I drifted through PE, I know I wasn't concentrating when Jim Clark almost beat me in the one-minute tests. Jim Clark! I tried to focus then, but it must have been obvious to everyone that I had something on my mind. It wasn't fair, the kids from the maths group in particular were putting a hell of a lot of effort in, and they deserved better than my ghosting through in a daze.

I really cottoned on to the fact that something was awry when Declan came in half-way through lunch. Declan knows all the groups, knows everyone in them, he's a good kid, and I trust him, but he was hesitant.

"What's up?" The group itself was talking quietly amongst themselves. Most of the time, these days, I'm just there as a 'responsible' presence so they can get the room. They keep each other's spirits up, keep each other happy, do most of the supporting between themselves.

"Look, I know it's not the best of times..." he started. "Don't look like that, you're off-colour today, everyone's seen it."

"It's... I've just got a lot on my mind, don't worry about. What's the problem?" He knew well enough not ask, for which I was grateful.

"It's Marissa Wright... since you've been out the way people have been... pressing."

"Damn."

"I tried, Alban, really I did, but..." Sometimes it's easy to forget he's just a fifteen year old kid. I mean, I was, once, and he's more capable than most — more capable than I was then, that's for sure — but there are limits.

"I know you did... do you know where they are?"

"Gym block, last I heard. She can't get out of the changing rooms."

"Evan and Kevin there?"

"They were, but they got called away."

"Get these guys out for me, would you." I pointed to the group, and he nodded, the usual smile back in place. He'd done his bit, he'd let me know — it was hand now, as far as he was concerned.

One of the things you learn, looking for out of the way places to hold meetings for various people, is that there are always shortcuts, if you know where to find them. Across the roof of the kitchens, for instance, means that you can cut out the big loop around the dining hall, assuming you can climb the walls easily enough — I can.

The top of the gym block isn't flat, unfortunately, so I had to skirt around the pitched roof, but the changing rooms are, and it was a simple job to pop the top off the skylight and drop into the middle of things.

"GET OFF ME!" Marissa's cries had been audible since I rounded the gym roof, but only now could I actually make out what she was saying. "ALBAN!" Everyone turned to look at me then, from Phil and Mikey blocking the doorway to Costas and Andrew McBride — naturally — pinning Marissa in the corner.

"The lady asked you to leave her alone." Four against one was bad odds at the best of times, and I was pretty sure I wasn't going to be able to talk my way out of this one. Thankfully, the distraction I provided caught Phil and Mikey's limited attention, and Kevin and Evan were able to push their way through the door.

"Sorry, Marissa." Evan managed, as he slid to a halt. "False alarm."

"What happened?" I asked — I didn't take my eyes off McBride.

"We got a message to report to the Head's office about General Studies this morning... he didn't know a thing about it." Kevin explained, as a small crowd followed them in.

"GET OFF!" Marissa screamed again, trying to slap McBride, but he just smirked at her, and pinned her arms back down.

"It's not like you haven't done any of this before." He told her.

"That's enough." I hoped someone had gone to fetch a teacher, but I couldn't guarantee it. It was going to come down to a fight, you could see it. I wished Connor was here. Kevin, for all his size, doesn't actually fight that well, Evan's alright — you have to understand that in the care system you get kids without direction, without respect or control. You learn to fight. Connor's really good at it — I'm not. Or rather, I am, so I tend to hold back.

"I've got Phil." Evan said, perfectly calm. Then it all went off. Costas came at me, but he's fairly small and wiry so that wasn't much of a concern, and I was past him easily when Connor went past me like a rocket. God it was good to see him — you know who your friends are when it all gets to the sharp end. Costas was staying out of the way, now, but Kevin and Pete were rather ineffectually trying to keep Mikey from getting to Evan — they weren't fighting, just sort standing in the way, but Evan was struggling against Phil already.

Mikey didn't even see me coming. I'm not proud of hitting someone in the back, but once it's turned into a fight, you fight to win, you know; I'm not ashamed of it, either. A punch in the kidneys and a foot in the back of his knee, slapped him to the tiled floor, and Kevin sat on him. That left me free to catch Phil's arm as he swung at Evan, and he had a free shot which he put to good use, right up under Phil's ribs. Phil's a big guy, but most of it's fat, and Evan knows where to hit to make it hurt. Phil went down wheezing, and Connor already had McBride on the floor wincing as his shoulder was bent up behind his back.

"Pete," I felt the shivers start as the adrenaline drained suddenly, "go get Dr Hibbert."

"No need, Alban." Someone else answered. Dr Adams.

Kelly

So, after all that preparation, gym was an anticlimax. Literally, I suppose. I didn't have to get changed, after all, so I was in place nice and early, all ready and waiting, wondering what Issy would be like... and Mr Brady just went straight into the lesson.

No explanation, no reason, just straight into it. I got the impression from the way he talked to Connor and Marissa that he didn't like the Programme, but that was no reason to take it out on me! Usually I end up in the multigym, pretending to lift weights and waiting for it all to end, and today I drifted over there waiting for it all to start.

Issy takes PE, so she was all into the work, and Marissa was with the gymnasts in the small hall with Miss Bertrand. Alban was nowhere to be seen, suddenly, so I expected to be on my own — only Mikey uses the gym, really, and he doesn't tend to say much.