In a Split Second

by Sophie McKenzie

  Callum nudged my arm. “Hot, isn’t she?” he said under his breath.

  I opened my mouth, wanting to ask Callum who the girl was, but Mr. Pritchard was peering around the room, ready to begin. He was ultrastrict about not talking in class and if I got another detention I might have to stay after school next Tuesday. I couldn’t risk that. For all I knew the League of Iron meeting would be held on the other side of London. My travel card only covered the bus, which meant it could take hours to get to wherever I needed to be.

  “Ah, Charlotte Stockwell, welcome,” Mr. Pritchard said, holding out his hand.

  The girl hesitated a moment, as if she wasn’t used to shaking hands. She was standing at the front of the class with her back to the room. I shivered, a feeling of dread creeping over me. I’d definitely seen this girl before somewhere, but the memory remained just out of reach. Beside me, Callum sniggered.

  “Charlie,” the girl said, shaking Mr. Pritchard’s hand at last.

  “Charlie.” Mr. Pritchard smiled. “Take a seat, I’ll come over when I’ve assigned some work.”

  The girl nodded. Then she turned around and headed for the nearest empty desk. She was strikingly pretty, with high cheekbones and a strong chin. My stomach dropped away as I remembered where I’d seen her before: in the market, a few minutes after the bomb had gone off, her mouth open in a scream.

  The memory flashed, sharp and cruel, into my mind’s eye as the girl, Charlie, sat down next to Jas.

  She had lost her mother because of that bomb.

  Because of Lucas.

  And now she was in our math group at school.

  Mr. Pritchard started writing a quadratic equation on the whiteboard, but all I could see was the market after the bomb. The girl and her mother. The blood and the smell of fear in the air.

  I closed my eyes, but the images remained.

  CHARLIE

  The bell rang and the class rose as Mr. Pritchard dismissed everyone. Most people were wandering away, chattering, though the girl next to me was still buried in her notebook. I looked around, wondering what came next. The schedule was really confusing. And, anyway, I was too embarrassed to look at mine when no one else needed to look at theirs.

  I was hoping the next class didn’t involve Rosa. From the way she’d acted earlier, I had the strong impression that she loved all the attention she was getting thanks to my “sad orphan” history.

  The math class had been okay at least. I’d liked the teacher and understood all of what we’d covered. I looked around. Mr. Pritchard and most of the class had gone now. I needed to move. The girl next to me was still writing, her tongue peeking out from her mouth in concentration. She had been working hard all class, looking up only when Mr. Pritchard spoke and chewing on her pen in between taking copious notes. She was very slim, with a long, sloping nose and sleek dark hair.

  “Er, excuse me,” I said.

  The girl turned. She had gentle eyes and an open expression. Her long hair framed a perfectly oval face. “Hi.” She smiled—and there was nothing fake or overdone about the smile. “I’m Jas.”

  I smiled back, liking her immediately. “Charlie,” I said. “Er, I’m new and I wasn’t sure . . .” I trailed off.

  “It’s just break time now,” Jas said, standing up and shoving her notebook into her bag. Despite being a little taller than me, she had really skinny legs that stuck out from under her skirt like sticks. “Would you like me to show you the canteen? Or the bathroom? Or your house room? Which house are you in, by the way?”

  “Plato,” I said. “What about you?”

  “Socrates,” Jas said. “That’s why I didn’t see you earlier, but I remember Rosa talking about you yesterday. You’re her cousin, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. Jas led the way to the door and out into the bustling hallway. Students were herding toward a sign marked CANTEEN. I really didn’t want to face the crowds so, when Jas looked at me expectantly, I asked if she’d show me outside.

  “I’ve been in three different buildings so far,” I said. “And I have no idea how they all connect.”

  Jas laughed. “I know, it’s crazy. It’s such a big school. It took me two weeks to find my way around.” She pointed in the opposite direction from the students rushing past us. “That’s the nearest exit.”

  We walked along, hugging the wall.

  “I got a map earlier,” I said, “but I couldn’t figure out where I was on it.”

  Jas grinned. “I know. I couldn’t figure out that map at all my first few days. In the end, Nat drew me another one.”

  “Nat?”

  “My brother,” she said. “We’re twins. He’s in your house, actually. They like to split twins up.”

  “They put me in with Rosa,” I said. “Though I think Rosa asked for that before I started.”

  “What did you ask for?”

  “I said I didn’t mind.”

  We reached the exit. Jas pushed the door open and we emerged onto a large, asphalt concourse. A few boys at the far end were playing soccer. Two fields stretched away into the distance.

  “Is that all part of the school?” I asked.

  “Yup, it’s massive,” Jas said with a sigh. She was peering over at the soccer-playing boys. “I don’t know where Nat is. He was in our math class just now and he’s usually out here at break.”

  I nodded, relieved that I wasn’t going to have to meet anyone else for the moment.

  Jas took me over to the fields, then guided me down some steps to a separate building that turned out to house the gym and a big indoor swimming pool.

  “Newbury Park has its own pool?” I asked, incredulous.

  “Wait till you see the golf course.” Jas rolled her eyes. “It’s wrong, isn’t it, when so many people these days are starving?”

  I nodded. It was unfair, of course. I’d thought the same thing myself when I’d seen Brian and Gail’s house. Still, I couldn’t deny that it was also pretty cool. “It wasn’t like this at my old school.”

  “Right.” Jas hesitated. “Look, you’ll hear anyway, so I might as well tell you, I know about your mum, in . . . in the bomb. . . .”

  “Oh.” I looked away, past the swimming pool, toward the trees that marked the Newbury Park school boundary. I’d thought for a moment that Jas might be different from the other girls, able to stop herself from prying into my past, trying to get all the gossip.

  But clearly I’d been wrong.

  “My brother was in the same explosion,” Jas went on.

  I looked back at her. I hadn’t expected that.

  “I thought you said your brother was here, at school?”

  “Not Nat. He’s my twin. I mean my older brother. Lucas. He was left in a coma.” Jas’s voice was steady, but I could see the pain behind her eyes as she spoke.

  I remembered now the toll from the blast: four dead, including Mum and that security guard, and seventeen injured. I’d vaguely heard that one of the injured still hadn’t regained consciousness, but it was a long time since I’d thought about it.

  “It’s ironic you and me meeting, really,” Jas said.

  I shrugged. “I guess it is, though my parents used to live around here before I was born. It’s where my dad was from. That’s how come his brother lives here now, why I’m here. . . .” I stopped, suddenly aware that I’d told Jas more about myself in the past minute than I’d said to anyone else since Mum died. “I’m sorry about Lucas.”

  Jas nodded. “It was worse for Nat than me. He was actually there, at the market, when the bomb went off. . . .”

  I had no memory of a boy our age at the scene, but then most of my memories of that horrible time were a blur now. Jas looked awkward, like she didn’t want to say any more. Well, I could relate to that.

  “So I’ve got history after break,” I said, determined to change the subject. “Do you take that? And, if you do, can you help me find the classroom?”

  “Sure.” The tension ebbed from Jas’s face as she led me aroun
d the swimming pool building and back to the main school. We chatted on. Jas told me a little bit more about her brother Nat. She said he was a soccer nut, and really smart . . . that he had an academic scholarship to the school while Jas had gotten a free place based on her piano playing. I was almost looking forward to meeting him, but when the bell rang and Jas and I arrived for history, Nat was nowhere to be seen. Jas frowned as she gazed around the room. “I hope he’s not cutting again,” she said. “He’s spent half the semester arriving late and leaving early. Not that he ever gets into real trouble over it. Nat’s good at talking his way out of things.”

  I raised my eyebrows. Smart and rebellious. I was liking the sound of Nat.

  History was fun. The teacher was one of those people who like to make everything relevant to today and all chatty and friendly with the class. I was amazed by how disciplined everything was. Of course there was a bit of backtalk and a few students messing around, but the vast majority did their work and everyone paid attention when the teacher insisted on it.

  Rosa wandered over at the end. I hadn’t even noticed she was in the room, having sat down at the front with Jas before class started.

  “Where did you go during break?” Rosa asked, looking miffed. “I waited for you in the canteen, but you didn’t show up.”

  “Oh.” I racked my brains. Had I said I’d meet Rosa there? I was pretty sure I hadn’t. “I didn’t realize.”

  Rosa made a face. “Really? But everyone goes to the canteen at break. You have to eat then because lunch for eleventh grade is so late.”

  I resisted the temptation to point out that I’d had no way of knowing that.

  “I wanted to take a look outside,” I said. “Work out how all the buildings fitted together. Jas from my math class showed me.”

  Rosa wrinkled her nose. “Jas?” she said. “She’s a little weird.”

  I bristled. So far, Jas was the only person I’d met at Newbury Park that I’d really liked. “Why d’you say that?” I asked.

  “Well she’s totally anorexic for a start. Hardly eats a thing. And she wears odd clothes out of school. And she works really hard at everything.”

  I thought about what Jas had told me earlier.

  “I don’t think being a little bit skinny, trying to make sure you don’t let your parents down by working hard, and having an individual taste in clothes make you weird,” I said.

  Rosa pursed her lips, her eyes hardening. “Fine,” she said. “Just remember I told you she was odd. And her brother’s really arrogant.”

  “You mean her twin brother?”

  “Yeah, Nat. He’s in our house.” As Rosa spoke, a look of hurt flashed across her face. “Acts like he’s God’s gift to girls. Just because he’s good-looking he thinks he can get away with being rude.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” I said, letting an edge of sarcasm creep into my voice.

  Rosa looked like she wanted to say something else, but thought better of it. We agreed we’d meet up later, then I shoved my schedule away and headed outside to find my Spanish class. Luckily it was next door.

  I settled myself into a desk at the back. I tried to focus, but my thoughts drifted to Jas’s twin brother. None of the guys in my Spanish class looked particularly attractive to me, but then Rosa’s idea of “good-looking” might well be completely different from mine. Or perhaps Nat didn’t take Spanish.

  Either way, I was intrigued.

  The class itself was hard—far more difficult than I was used to—and I soon forgot about everything else. After Spanish, came PE with the other girls from my year. I didn’t have any gym clothes but Gail had given me some spare things of Rosa’s. I did okay with the handball and running activities. I’ve always been well coordinated and love that feeling you get when you run hard and your muscles warm and loosen. I noticed that while Rosa appeared to be enjoying herself too, poor Jas was in agony. Hopelessly uncoordinated, she was the last to be picked by the team leaders and dropped more balls than she caught.

  She offered me a rueful smile as we headed off to the science lab. The setting for science subjects followed the math group which meant, again, no Rosa. It was a relief, to be honest. I’d just had to deal with her bringing over another one of her friends to tell me how awful it was about Mum dying, an anguished smile of sympathy on her face.

  Jas and I strolled along, chatting about the upcoming physics class. Jas was just warning me that the teacher was a little boring when she looked up and waved at someone across the hallway.

  “There’s Nat,” she said.

  I looked up, interested. I couldn’t see who Jas meant at first. There were several boys standing around the science lab door. Then one of them pushed another, they both stepped back and I saw him.

  He was good-looking, just as Rosa had said. He had the same dark, sleek hair as his sister, though his was cut short and messy. He was tall, like Jas, and slim, though not anywhere near as skinny as her.

  He turned and I could see that his face was a male version of hers—longer and squarer in the chin—and that his eyes were a bright, intense blue. Wow. He was gorgeous.

  He stared back at me. My stomach gave a little skip.

  Jas took my hand and dragged me over. My heart beat fast.

  Nat didn’t take his eyes off me the whole time I was walking toward him.

  “This is Charlie,” Jas said.

  “Hi.” His voice was cold and hard.

  “Hi.” I tried to smile, but my face didn’t seem to move properly. Why was he being so unfriendly?

  Nat stared at me for a few more seconds. Then, without another word, he turned and strode into the science lab. Jas looked after him, a frown on her face. I could feel myself flushing. Rosa had been right about Nat’s rudeness, as well as his good looks.

  The physics class was practical and interesting. I worked with Jas and another boy on the experiment we were doing. Every now and then I looked over at Nat. Once I thought I caught him watching me but the rest of the time his face was turned away.

  Maybe I was being over sensitive, but it felt like he was deliberately ignoring me. At the end of the lesson he stalked out without looking over, even though Jas called out after him.

  That was strange, wasn’t it? I mean, he really seemed to have taken a dislike to me. What on earth could I have done to upset him?

  NAT

  I felt sick to my stomach. It wasn’t just the horrible images from the bomb blast that had been flashing through my head ever since that math class earlier this morning. It was also the fact that Charlie was so closely connected to something that, so far, I had thought about only in terms of my own family. Suppose she guessed that Lucas had taken the bomb to the market? No, that was stupid and irrational. There was no way she could know about Lucas’s involvement.

  Even so, my heart raced whenever I thought about it.

  I tried not to look in Charlie’s direction during class, but I still made a total mess of my experiment, much to Callum’s and Rick’s annoyance. They were used to coasting through all their science classes, reliant on the fact that I normally found the work fairly easy. But today I seemed to have forgotten everything I knew.

  What was Jas doing making friends with her? Had either of them talked about the bomb? About Lucas? I shuddered. Man, if I had recognized Charlie, perhaps she would remember me? I looked up at the end of the experiment. Charlie was watching me, an expression of curiosity on her face. What was that about?

  I told myself I was overreacting. She was probably just curious because Jas and I were twins. People were often interested in the twin thing. I snuck a final glance at her as she packed her bag, then I grabbed my own and strode out of the room.

  Jas came running up behind me. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. Then, knowing Jas wouldn’t buy that for a second, I lowered my voice. “I recognized that girl . . . from that day in the market, you know . . .”

  Jas’s gaze softened with sympathy. I looked aw
ay, hating myself for not telling her the whole truth. Still, what choice did I have?

  “I wondered why you acted like that earlier,” she said. “I get it, but Charlie seems nice.” She leaned closer. “Nothing like her cousin.”

  “Yeah, that’s not hard.” I grinned. “Anyway, I’m sorry for showing you up.”

  “Timbuktu sorry?” Jas said, raising her eyebrows and smiling.

  “And back again,” I said.

  We laughed, but it made me feel sad. Moments like this were just faint echoes of a time long past, when our home had been full of nonsense in-jokes like that one from Oliver . . . stuff that didn’t really make sense, but that connected us in a way that outsiders couldn’t hope to understand. I’d always been close to Jas—I was older than her by half an hour: “You were fighting to come out,” Mum once told me, “unlike poor Jas who didn’t want to come out at all”—but I missed the closeness that our whole family once shared.

  Charlie was hovering about, waiting for Jas. She was looking vaguely in my direction, though not meeting my eyes. She really was very pretty. I tore my gaze away.

  “See ya later,” I said to Jas, then headed to the canteen, praying that Charlie wasn’t going there too.

  She wasn’t. In fact, I didn’t see her again that day and managed to avoid her for most of the rest of the week. To my relief, Charlie didn’t try to speak to me again either.

  But I always knew when she was in the room, almost as if I had a sixth sense for her presence. And, as the week drew to a close, I was forced to admit that Jas had been right—Charlie did seem nice. She wasn’t all giggly and simpering like Rosa and so many of the other girls and she was certainly good with Jas. I hadn’t seen my sister smile so much at school in a long time.

  I was also increasingly certain that Charlie had no idea Lucas had been involved in the bombing. Which of course made sense. After all, it had been chaos in that market. If the police hadn’t realized Lucas was involved with the bomb, why would an innocent bystander like Charlie have?