At least it was fun seeing Emmi and Grace that evening. Emmi had spent a fabulous month in France and had, naturally, acquired a fantastically good-looking French boyfriend. He certainly looked gorgeous in the many pictures Emmi had taken of him on her phone. For a couple of hours it was Jean-Luc this and Jean-Luc that, then he actually called and Emmi squealed and they had a long flirtatious conversation – in English – about when he was supposed to be arriving the following week.
‘Of course we can,’ Emmi said. She was standing out on the landing, her mobile clamped to her ear. ‘And we have nice bread here in England as well, you know.’
Grace and I settled down on Emmi’s bed. We were painting our toenails, waiting for Emmi to come back. I was enjoying being girly after a long week tending the commune’s vegetable patch.
I raised my eyes. ‘Sounds like Jean-Luc’s as high maintenance as our Em.’
‘So how’s it going living with Flynn?’ Grace asked. ‘My parents would never let me have James come live with us.’
I shrugged. ‘It’s not like we’re living in a family home, remember. We’re part of the commune,’ I explained, stroking nail varnish over my big toenail. ‘But I love being there with Flynn.’
Grace and I charted for a bit about what we’d been doing. Grace had gone to a festival with James since I’d last seen her. Flynn and I could have gone with them but Flynn hadn’t had the money and I wasn’t sure I really wanted to go anyway. It sounded like Grace and James had had a great time. Grace told me about some of the bands they’d seen, then she blushed.
‘I know I said I wouldn’t mention it again but did you ever tell Flynn about what happened with James? James asked me to ask you.’
I shook my head. ‘No way,’ I said. ‘Flynn would never understand.’
‘You mean he wouldn’t believe you and James hadn’t wanted to kiss each other?’
I shrugged. ‘He’d just be mad at the idea of it.’
Grace screwed the top back on her nail varnish bottle. ‘D’you think he might wonder if the pair of you secretly like each other?’ Her fingers trembled as she set the bottle down.
‘Oh, Grace . . .’ Was that what she thought? ‘You don’t . . . James and me . . . no . . .’ My stomach twisted into knots. I hadn’t thought about James and me since the last time I’d seen Grace. Had she been worrying about it all this time?
It’s just been on my mind a bit.’ Grace’s voice dropped to a whisper though there was no chance of us being overheard; Emmi was still charting away on the landing to Jean-Luc, her phone clamped to her ear. ‘I realised I was grateful that you hadn’t, you know, gone any further with him.’
What? My mouth dropped open. ‘No. James didn’t want me, Grace. It wasn’t like that. And I didn’t want him. Not that he isn’t lovely but—’
‘If you’d wanted to, I bet he’d have done it.’ Grace’s mouth trembled. ‘I mean, the way you look, what guy wouldn’t want you?’
‘You’re kidding.’ I stared at her, genuinely amazed. ‘James is totally in love with you. Anyway, you’re ten times prettier than I am. Look at you. You’re like a supermodel.’
Grace shook her head. ‘I’m not like you and Emmi,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘It’s fine, Riv, but I’ve seen the way guys look at you. I know James loves me but it would still be tempting for him . . . that’s all . . .’ She tailed off, looking miserable.
I hugged her, feeling simultaneously confused and relieved and guilty. How could Grace think for a second that James would be interested in me, when he had her? Is that what Flynn would think, if he knew? That I was secretly all into James?
I drew back. ‘I swear James has never done anything to make me think he liked me like that,’ I said. ‘And you can tell him that I haven’t said anything to Flynn.’ I paused. ‘And that I really don’t want him to say anything either.’
‘Sure,’ Grace said. ‘But maybe Flynn would be more understanding than you think?’
I shook my head. ‘No way.’ If sensible, sweet-natured Grace had got upset at the possibility of James and me fancying each other then what on earth would passionate, volatile Flynn make of it?
12
I went back to the commune the next morning. College was going to start the next day and Gemma took me into Norton to buy a jacket. The shops here weren’t anywhere near as cool as London stores but it was fun hanging out with Gemma. The more time I spent with her and Dad, the more I appreciated how lovely she was, like a still pool of water, keeping calm in the face of all storms. I’d even plucked up courage to ask her about losing her baby earlier in the year. There were tears in both our eyes as Gemma confessed she had cried recently, thinking how the baby would have been due around now. She also admitted that she and Dad were hoping she would get pregnant again soon, though she was eager to reassure me that no new arrival would ever take precedence over me and Stone. I came home, back to the commune, really hoping, for the first time, that Gemma and Dad would have a baby. A little brother or sister would be so cool.
The next morning, Flynn, Leo and I took the bus to the sixth form college for our first day. Before we left, Dad gave me a peck on the cheek then turned to Flynn. ‘Look after her,’ he said.
It was just a small thing but it was nice that he said it.
Flynn nodded. His expression didn’t change but I could tell he was pleased too. He and Dad had really bonded over the summer. I’d seen them many times working silently and happily together on shared jobs like mending the fence in the south field or checking over the sheep.
Flynn took my hand as we got off the bus. Leo walked behind us as we strolled along the street and into Norton Napier College. The main building was square and modern with clean, concrete walls. I’d liked it as soon as I’d seen it for the first time earlier in the summer: all the rooms smelled of fresh paint and were laid out as a grid, with clear signposts everywhere.
Flynn, Leo and I found our way easily to the secretary’s office, despite the corridors teeming with teenagers. I knew there were only 180 students or so in the whole school – ninety in each year – but it felt like all of them were swarming past us. I noticed most of the girls were taller than me – and almost all wearing jeans or sweatpants. I was glad I’d put my jeans on rather than a skirt, and that I was wearing a simple black jumper – nothing too showy or obvious. Flynn looked cross, which I knew meant he was feeling a bit awkward, but he was still chatting quite normally to me. Of the three of us, it was Leo who was having the worst time. I glanced at him as Flynn opened the secretary’s office door. He was actually shaking.
‘Hi,’ Flynn drawled. ‘They said we should come here.’
‘I’m Mrs McCudden.’ A short, plump woman with wispy grey hair and a harassed expression bustled over to meet us. She shook our hands, then asked for our names. She found me and Leo on the lower sixth list straight away. ‘Yes, River Armstrong and Leo Maxwell. No need to be nervous.’ This was directed at Leo, who had gone white as a sheet. She handed us each a form. ‘Just an extra bit of paperwork, then down to the hall for your induction.’
Leo and I sat down on the sofa with our forms. They were straightforward questions asking about contact numbers and checking home addresses. Two girls and a boy on the sofa opposite were filling in forms too. One of the girls looked up and smiled at me.
Mrs McCudden turned to Flynn. ‘And your name is . . . ?’
‘Flynn,’ he said.
‘Ah . . .’ Mrs McCudden reached for another list. ‘Upper sixth . . . Patrick Flynn. Is that right?’
‘Just Flynn.’ Flynn glared at the unfortunate Mrs McCudden.
She blinked distractedly. ‘Sorry?’
‘Just Flynn,’ he repeated slowly. ‘My name. Flynn. I’m not writing Patrick on anything.’
‘Whatever you like, dear.’ Mrs McCudden handed him a form, then bustled back to her desk.
A minute later we were all done. Leo and I joined Flynn as he handed his form in.
‘So the three of you live
on a commune?’ Mrs McCudden said brightly. ‘That must be interesting?’
Flynn ignored her. Leo looked down at the form he’d been filling in as if he might be sick all over it.
‘That’s right.’ I smiled. ‘Just a couple of miles away. My dad’s been there a while.’ Mrs McCudden and I charted for a few minutes about what living on the commune was like. Then the door swung open and a young Asian man with glasses and sleek black hair peered round.
‘Patrick Flynn?’ he said.
Mrs McCudden bustled out from behind her desk again. ‘This is Mr Shukla,’ she said to Flynn. ‘Your tutor.’
Mr Shukla grinned and held out his hand to Flynn.
‘Hi, Patrick.’
‘Flynn,’ said Flynn, crossing his arms and looking mutinous.
I held my breath. I had often wondered how Flynn had managed to get every person at his old school to call him by his last name. Now the answer was obvious. He simply intimidated them into it.
‘O-kay, Flynn,’ Mr Shukla said, still holding out his hand.
Flynn shook it very briefly, then picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He glanced at me. ‘See you later, yeah?’
I nodded. He disappeared out the door. A moment later Mrs McCudden directed me, Leo and the other lower sixth students present to the hall. The whole year was here. After a short talk from the head, we were divided into four tutor groups. I was very relieved that Leo and I were in the same one. I gave Leo – who still looked very nervous – a reassuring smile as our tutor introduced herself as Ms Ransome from New Zealand. She seemed really nice – young and friendly – and wore a tight angora jumper that I couldn’t have imagined on any of my old teachers at Langton. I liked her immediately Leo, I noticed, didn’t appear able to meet her eyes.
After Ms Ransome had checked us all against a register, she led us down the corridor to our tutor room. Having a surname beginning with A’ meant, as usual, I was at the head of the line.
‘So you live on the commune?’ Ms Ransome asked, as we walked along. ‘I’ve heard about it but I’ve never met anyone who lived there before.’
I started in on a repeat of the conversation I’d had earlier with Mrs McCudden. As we went inside our tutor room, Leo caught up with me and whispered, ‘D’you think anyone’s going to talk to us about anything other than living on a commune?’
His face was even paler than usual, his eyes still sick with fear, but at least he was smiling.
I grinned back. ‘It’s not that bad,’ I said. ‘Don’t sweat it, we’ve got each other, remember.’
Leo nodded gratefully, as Ms Ransome asked us to sit. The tutor room wasn’t anything like the old-fashioned classrooms at Langton. A row of lockers stood along one wall, with shelves opposite and a horseshoe arrangement of tables and chairs in between. Leo and I sat together, as Ms Ransome explained that the college was closely linked to the local comprehensive, which meant all but a handful of lower sixth students had come from the same school. I gulped when I heard this. I’d kind of assumed that everyone in our year would be strangers but it was already obvious most of the other students knew each other well.
‘You’ll use this tutor room for general studies and free periods,’ Ms Ransome went on. ‘And now I’m going to ask everyone to introduce themselves. Just a name will do at this stage.’
I felt nervous but when it came to my turn to say my name no one looked at me oddly. In fact, as I gazed around the room, I felt more confident than I had all morning. The tutor group was about twenty strong, half-half boys and girls. The girls were watching me, mostly with open, fairly friendly expressions on their faces. This was encouraging and I forced my mouth into a hint of a smile. The boys seemed to be giving their attention equally to me and Ms Ransome’s chest. All except Leo, who spent the entire session staring at his shoes.
Ms Ransome gave out maps and timetables, then we headed off for our first lessons and the rest of the morning passed in a blur. I went to meet Flynn in the cafeteria at lunchtime. The college let you come and go as you pleased outside lesson times but Dad had given us tokens to buy a meal from the canteen on our first day. For the future, Flynn and I planned to go out as much as possible and bring our own food to eat in the local park.
The cafeteria was heaving when Leo and I walked in. I looked around, trying to make Flynn out. And then he was there, beside me, pulling me into a kiss.
I pushed him away, blushing.
‘Missed ya,’ he grinned.
I rolled my eyes, then noticed a small cut on his lip that hadn’t been there this morning. ‘What happened?’ I stared at him. Surely even Flynn couldn’t have got into a fight in just one morning?
Flynn’s grin deepened. ‘Just a bit of pushing and shoving. There’re a couple of jerks in my class who think somebody new starting is an opportunity for them to assert their inner idiot.’ He glanced at Leo, acknowledging his presence for the first time. ‘Same in every class I ’spect.’ He turned back to me. ‘Don’t look like that, Riv, it wasn’t anything.’
‘But you’re hurt,’ I said, all my old anxieties rearing up. Had Flynn lost his temper?
‘Nah, I’m fine.’ Flynn touched the cut on his lip. ‘It’s just a scratch. Look. It’s freakin’ dog eat dog out there. Most of them have been at school together since they were eleven – and they’ve all been here the whole of last year. I’m the only new person in my upper sixth tutor group. You can’t let them think you’re afraid. Not for a second.’
He dragged me over towards a queue for sandwiches and started fishing in his pocket for the tokens Dad had given him. I’m starving.’
I looked at him, still feeling troubled. ‘I thought the anger management classes were going to stop you doing things like this,’ I said.
‘Things like what?’ Flynn laughed, picking up a ham and mustard sandwich. ‘I told you. It was just a bit of pushing and shoving. Me making sure nobody’s going to start having a go at me in the future.’ He leaned down suddenly. I could feel his breath, hot and steady, as his lips brushed across my ear. It’s a one-off, Riv,’ he whispered. ‘Seriously nothing to worry about.’
We ate our lunch on our own. Leo had vanished somewhere between us buying our sandwiches and finding somewhere to sit down. I saw a few guys give Flynn wary looks. I was sure a small group of girls on the other side of the room were talking about us too. They kept looking over, then giggling and whispering.
I swallowed uncomfortably. I’d been at the same school for years before coming here. But even if I had moved around every term I was pretty certain that I would never draw attention to myself in the way that Flynn always seemed to.
Sometimes – if I was really honest – I didn’t understand him at all.
13
As the first week turned into the second, we gradually settled into life at Norton Napier. I really liked Ms Ransome, who was the English and Drama teacher as well as my tutor. Mr Shukla turned out to teach History. He was strict but fair. I thought his lessons were a bit boring, though Flynn seemed to enjoy them – and to get on with Mr Shukla himself. In fact, Flynn got on with all his teachers. As he’d promised, there had been no repeat of the ‘pushing and shoving’ from our first day. And, like me, Flynn enjoyed the way Norton Napier allowed its pupils far more independence than either of our previous schools had done.
The other students were mostly nice too. I made friends with one of the few girls who hadn’t grown up in the area. Kirsty was small and red-haired and her family had just moved here from Scotland. We quickly got in with the main group of girls in the tutor group and spent quite a lot of time doing girly stuff like trying on each other’s make-up in the bathrooms at break time.
I wished Leo could have made some friends. But his weirdness seemed to stand out even more at college than it did at the commune. To be honest, he and I didn’t really spend much time together. We only took English classes at the same time. Our other subjects were different, and I spent most of my free time with either Flynn or the girls
I’d made friends with.
Flynn didn’t make any close friends, not that he seemed bothered. Instead he hung out with a largish group of boys from his class, spending most of his time when he wasn’t working or with me playing football in the park close to the college.
Part of me missed my old school and Emmi and Grace, especially on my birthday, which took place halfway through our second week. At Langton all my friends would have remembered the date and made a fuss of me. Here, no one knew except Flynn and Leo and I insisted they promise not to tell anyone at college; it was just too early in the term for me to put myself forward like that.
It really didn’t matter. We had a good time at the commune that evening. Mum and Stone came up for tea and Gemma baked a big chocolate cake. I got money for clothes from Mum and Dad, a book from Leo and a pretty pair of earrings from Flynn. Both Grace and Emmi called and texted too with promises of presents when we next met.
It felt a bit weird. Still, being here – at the commune and at the college – was what I had wanted. According to Emmi and Grace everything was different at Langton now anyway.
And, here, I had Flynn.
Before we knew it, the first four weeks had passed and it was time for me to attend Flynn’s group counselling class with him. That evening we stayed late after college, then walked up the road to the Norton Therapy Centre. I was feeling really nervous at this opportunity to join in tonight. I’d asked both Gemma and Flynn what to expect but Gemma just said it would be better not to have preconceptions while Flynn wouldn’t talk about it at all.
‘I don’t know, Riv,’ he said. ‘Sometimes it makes sense. Sometimes it’s like we’re all just talking about nothing.’ He paused. ‘Still, I’m sure it helps.’
The room the session was held in was like a big school hall, with a scuffed wooden floor and a bunch of plastic chairs arranged in a circle.
I sat down next to Flynn. He held my hand, looking bored. My heart was thumping, I was so worried I was going to do or say the wrong thing. Most of the other people in the group were already there. They were all boys, Flynn had told me, between the ages of fourteen and eighteen. Most seemed to have come with their mothers, though a few were with their girlfriends and a couple with their dads. At least there was no one here from Norton Napier.
Casting Shadows Page 8
