by Glenn Wood
On any other day, Callum would have stopped at Sophie’s place and finished the journey with her, but he couldn’t face getting the third degree over his rib injury. He texted to say he was running late and would see her at school.
As Callum wheeled through the picturesque streets of Thanxton, his home town, he cursed its olde-worlde cobblestoned streets. Even with the Thunderkit’s suspension fully wound up, he could feel every bump. By the time he got to school, he felt like he’d gone ten rounds with the heavyweight boxing champion of the world.
Sophie was waiting for him by the school gates. Callum sighed and rolled up to her.
“Before you ask, I’m fine and …”
Sophie held up her hands. “I wasn’t going to nag. I’m your friend not your mother.”
Callum instantly felt bad about avoiding her. “Yeah, I know. We’ll drop it, okay?”
“Actually, no.”
Callum blinked; he’d expected his friend to agree.
Sophie continued. “I was thinking about when you hit the ramp yesterday – how you didn’t have enough thrust to make it to the other side. Well, if we could work out some sort of jet-propulsion system, nitrous maybe, to give the chair a boost, then you might be able to clear the stream.”
Callum laughed. This was the Sophie he knew. “I like the way you’re thinking,” he said, “but you know how I feel about motorised chairs.”
Sophie did. Callum didn’t want a chair with an engine because he thought it would make him seem more disabled than he was. Callum was fiercely independent but he’d been trying to dial it back and allow his friends to help him at times. Sophie correctly judged this was one of those occasions and she slipped behind the Thunderkit, preparing to push Callum through the school grounds. He took his hands away from the push rims and let her control his wheelchair, something he wouldn’t have done a year ago.
Sophie continued with the topic in hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll find a non-motorised solution. I’ll have to calculate the angle of the ramp versus the velocity of the jump. If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it properly. You’ll need body armour and a better helmet. I’ll check what’s available online.”
As the pair approached the school hall they recognised a slight red-headed boy sitting on the grass bank in front of the senior school classrooms. It was their friend Toby Patterson, better known as Jinx. He had earned his nickname because, for the vast majority of his life, he’d been the victim of unrelenting bad luck. Recently, he’d learned to control his misfortune and, for the first time ever, had gone several months without incident. He was with a group of older students.
Callum waved, but Jinx looked away and didn’t wave back. Callum turned to Sophie. “What’s that about?”
Sophie shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe he didn’t see us.”
“What’s he doing with those guys anyway, aren’t they the ‘cool’ kids?”
Sophie ran an eye over the crowd Jinx was hanging with. She recognised three school prefects, a couple of members of the first fifteen and several girls who spent more time on make-up than they did studying. “They certainly think so.”
Callum called to his friend. “Hey, Jinx. Over here.”
A pretty blond girl sitting next to Jinx nudged him and pointed to Sophie and Callum. Jinx rose reluctantly and trudged over.
“Oh, hey, guys,” he said unenthusiastically.
Callum spun his wheelchair and touched Jinx lightly on the leg with his footrest. “What’s up, didn’t you see me wave?”
Jinx shook his head. “Nah, sorry.”
“Were you too busy discussing moisturiser with Britney?” added Sophie as she smiled politely at the blond girl.
“She’s all right,” he said.
Sophie raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Really, a few months ago she wouldn’t have put you out if you were on fire.”
For most people this would have been an expression, but in Jinx’s case it was actually true. The previous spring his sneakers had spontaneously combusted and set fire to his trousers. He hadn’t been hurt, but only because Sophie, Callum and several teachers were on hand to extinguish the flames. None of the other students had come to his assistance.
“I’m just trying to get a bigger circle of friends,” muttered Jinx. “What’s wrong with that?”
Callum answered before Sophie had a chance. Even without looking, Callum could feel the girl steaming up.
“Nothing, Jinx. It’s just that they’ve never shown any interest in you before.”
“No one showed any interest in me before because if they did, a plane was likely to fall on their head.”
“Well, we did,” snapped Sophie.
Jinx looked at his feet and took a kick at a passing beetle. He missed. “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, it’ll be cool. I can hang out with you guys too.” A grin touched his lips. “There’s plenty of Jinx Patterson to go around.”
Sophie made a vomiting noise. “Now I don’t want to hang out with you.”
Jinx laughed and called back over his shoulder as he ran to his new friends, “See you at lunchtime.”
When he was out of earshot, Sophie lowered her voice and spoke to Callum. “What do you think?”
Callum watched as Jinx sat back amongst the group. The red-headed boy whispered something to a big athletic-looking guy whose name Callum couldn’t remember. The boy laughed.
“I think we should be worried,” he said.
The new term started with an assembly in the hall. All the pupils were seated in rows, facing the stage. As usual, Callum sat in his wheelchair at the end of one of the aisles. He hated sitting there. It made him stand out, but he wasn’t given an option.
The principal blahed on about “striving for excellence” and “school spirit” for what seemed like hours (but was actually just ten minutes) then called two new students to the stage.
The first was a tall, angular thirteen-year-old girl with a punk hairstyle, dark make-up and black varnish on her nails. She was dressed in jeans that were ripped at the knees. Under her black leather jacket she wore a T-shirt covered in skulls. Her feet were encased in solid leather boots with thick soles.
The second was a boy of fourteen or fifteen. He was solidly built, with close-cropped hair and quick, mean eyes.
The principal introduced the girl as Lucy Keg and the boy as Cain Wentworth. He welcomed them and explained that they had just transferred schools.
Callum studied them both closely. The girl looked bored. Her foot tapped restlessly on the stage and she glared at anyone who looked at her. She radiated hostility and attitude.
The boy was a picture of confidence, standing tall, arms crossed against his chest. For a second he locked eyes with Callum and a look of recognition crossed his face, then he glanced away.
That was weird, thought Callum. He was certain he’d never seen the boy before.
At the end of assembly the staff and students trudged to their lessons.
Callum, Jinx and Sophie had a lot of separate classes and they headed in different directions. Callum’s first lesson was maths, which he found dull but not difficult. He hoped it would be more interesting this term. He opened his textbook, saw a worksheet on quadratic equations and knew it was not to be.
Things didn’t improve with subsequent classes and the rest of Callum’s day moved with the speed of a sloth with a limp. He was glad when the school bell announced the end of lessons.
As usual, Callum was one of the last to leave his final class. He emerged into the afternoon sun, planning to go straight home. By the time Callum made it to the gate, the school was almost empty.
He rolled along, in no particular hurry, enjoying the sun on his face and thinking about afternoon tea. On the street, he noticed Sophie just ahead of him. She was struggling with a stack of textbooks, evidence that she was doing extra subjects again this term.
Callum was about to catch up with his friend and help her with the books, when he saw movement nearby. The new boy, Cain, came barrelling
up behind Sophie, collided with her and shouldered her out of his way.
Sophie gave a startled yelp and her books tumbled onto the ground. The boy carried on up the street as if nothing had happened.
Callum yelled, “Hey! Watch where you’re going.”
The boy stopped, spun around and faced Callum, a dangerous look in his eyes. Several students stopped to watch, waiting to see what would happen. Typically, there wasn’t a teacher in sight.
“What’d you say?” growled the boy.
Callum stood his ground. “I told you to watch where you’re going. You almost knocked my friend over.”
“What if I did?” came the snarled reply. “What are you gonna do about it?” The boy strode up to Callum, his hands balling into fists. Callum stayed put.
“Keep walking and you’ll see.”
Cain stopped short and looked at Callum with mock horror. “You gonna beat me up?” He gave a cruel laugh. “Lucky for you I don’t fight girls or cripples.”
He stared at Callum for a few seconds, then walked away.
Callum’s cheeks reddened. His muscles tensed as he grasped his push rims, ready to chase after Cain. Sophie placed her hand on Callum’s arm.
“Let him go; he’s not worth it,” she said softly.
Callum turned towards her, his frustration plain to see. She shook her head. He released his wheel rims and took a deep breath.
“S’pose you’re right,” he muttered. “What a jerk.”
Sophie agreed. “Yeah. A total loser.”
Callum looked at her textbooks scattered on the ground; he reached for one of them. The height of the chair and the pain in his ribs made it difficult, and he could only grab it by the cover. Sophie took it from him.
“Thanks,” she said, “I can get the rest.”
Callum moved aside as she scooped up the remaining books. When she had finished she crouched beside him.
“I need to go to the shop for Mum on the way home, so I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I’ve got some cool new ideas to go through,” Sophie said. She gave him a small smile and hurried up the street.
Callum watched her go. He was still fuming about Cain. The confrontation had upset him more than he’d let on and worst of all, it’d made him lose his appetite.
Three
The following day started ordinarily enough. Sophie had just finished breakfast when Callum arrived at her place. They had plenty of time to have a chat and still make it to school without hurrying.
They discussed Cain’s unprovoked attack on Sophie and the way he’d confronted Callum.
“The last thing we need at school is a new bully,” said Sophie with a heavy sigh.
“True,” replied Callum.
Sophie found school tough enough as it was. Not academically, she was a straight-A student, but socially. There were so many different factions within the school grounds that Sophie was never quite sure where she fitted in. She certainly didn’t identify with the emos who moped around outside the art block, or the jocks who owned the sports fields. And she had no time for the cool kids; as far as she was concerned they were a waste of space. She guessed she was closest to the nerds who hid in the library, but she had little in common with most of them as well. Callum and Jinx were her closest friends and they didn’t belong to any group.
Misfits, that’s what we are, she thought as they arrived at the school gate.
Sophie’s problems started at morning interval.
She was in the girls’ bathroom, washing her hands, when she felt a spray of water hit the side of her face. She flinched and looked up. The new girl, Lucy, stood with her finger over one of the taps, no expression on her face. Apart from her, the bathroom was empty.
“You got a problem?” asked the girl, her voice as cold as her eyes. She pressed the tap down again and another stream of water hit Sophie’s cheek.
Sophie rounded on the girl and wiped the water away. “Stop it. What’s the matter with you?”
The girl took her finger off the tap and approached Sophie. Even though she was younger, she was much bigger than Sophie. The bully leaned in close, until her face was only centimetres away. Although Lucy had now been made to wear school uniform, Sophie noticed she’d retained some punk elements to her dress, such as a hairclip shaped like a skull and dark nail polish.
“I don’t like you,” hissed the girl. “So you’d better stay out of my way.” She shoved Sophie in the chest, not hard, but enough for Sophie to feel Lucy’s strength. Then she walked out of the bathroom without saying another word.
Sophie stood by the handbasin, trembling. The unexpected nature of the attack left her reeling. She had done nothing to annoy the new girl, but that didn’t seem to matter.
Sophie had been picked on in the past. Some of the “popular” girls had mocked her because she wore practical clothes instead of designer dresses, but they were just stupid girls who didn’t know better. This was something different. Lucy had looked at her as if she despised her and desperately wanted to hurt Sophie.
She composed herself and left the bathroom, deciding not to tell anyone about the incident. Callum might overreact and make things worse. And there was no point telling any of the adults as it was her word against Lucy’s. Plus she hadn’t actually been hurt. Sophie decided to keep out of Lucy’s way and hope it didn’t happen again.
Jinx joined Callum and Sophie for lunch, briefly. They’d barely made a dent in their sandwiches when Jinx started packing up.
“Sorry, guys, gotta go,” he muttered.
Callum and Sophie exchanged looks.
“What’s the rush?” said Callum.
Jinx avoided his friend’s eyes. “Oh, ah, you know Trent, the house captain? Well, he’s teaching me how to play lacrosse.”
Sophie almost spat half-chewed ham and egg all over Callum. “Lacrosse! But you’ve given up sports. Remember what happened last time you kicked a ball? It hit a tree and stunned a squirrel, which fell onto the groundskeeper who was driving past on his ride-on mower …”
Callum picked up the story. “Oh, I remember,” he said excitedly. “The groundskeeper freaked out, jammed the mower on top speed then fell off …”
“Yeah,” laughed Sophie. “And the mower took out two rubbish bins, a hedge, ate a year seven’s art project and then ploughed into the principal’s new car. He wasn’t happy!”
Jinx’s lips thinned. “That was before, when I was unlucky. I’m better now and can play all the sports I like.” He spun on his heel and stomped away.
Callum grinned at Sophie. “Apparently Jinx is better now.”
“I liked him more when he wasn’t,” she said with a sigh. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m pleased he has his bad luck under control. But Trent! The guy’s so stuck up.”
“True. And Jinx’ll see that soon, I’m sure. He’s just getting his head around being sort of normal now. He’ll be fine.”
Sophie began packing up her lunch box. “I hope you’re right.” She gave snort. “Normal! Who’d want to be that?”
Callum agreed. “Yeah, totally overrated.” Although – and he’d never admit this to Sophie – some days he wouldn’t mind standing out a little less. He knew his chair made some people uncomfortable and the embarrassed “look aways” still got to him.
Callum retracted the Thunderkit’s back wheel and pulled a wheelie, balancing on the two rear wheels with his feet in the air. “What do you want to do for the rest of lunch?”
Sophie shrugged. “Nothing much,” she said.
And that’s exactly what they did.
At the end of their break Sophie and Callum split up and headed to their next classes. Callum had social studies. It was the most difficult lesson for him to get to as the classroom was at the bottom of a small slope. The hill was nothing he couldn’t handle but he still had to descend with care. As he was nearing the bottom he caught sight of Cain approaching from his left side. The boy abruptly moved close to Callum’s wheelchair, thrust something towards the wheels and the
n stepped away.
Suddenly, the left wheel of Callum’s chair jammed. He pitched forwards as the chair lurched, twisted and tipped. If he hadn’t been on a slope, Callum might have been able to save himself, but the gradient was too steep and the chair upended. Callum flew through the air and landed face first on the ground with a heavy thud. The impact forced the breath from his lungs and sent waves of pain through his already injured ribs.
He lay still for a second, sucking air and waiting for the pain to go away. Callum lifted himself into a push-up position, flipped onto his back and looked around. The Thunderkit was on its side next to him, one of its main wheels spinning and the other with a length of wood stuck in the spokes. Cain stood nearby.
“You should be more careful with that thing,” sneered the boy. “You almost hit me.”
Before he could reply, Cain jogged away, heading for the classroom.
Callum dragged himself to his chair. He pulled the piece of wood from the wheel and examined the Thunderkit. A couple of spokes were bent but there didn’t seem to be any serious damage. Callum hurled the wood away. He knew exactly how it had got into the spokes.
He heard footsteps behind him and rotated to see Jinx jogging down the hill. The red-headed boy reached for the Thunderkit and righted it.
“What happened?” said Jinx as he held the wheelchair steady.
Callum grabbed the seat and pulled himself aboard. “Wet grass,” he said grimly. “I must have slipped.”
No one had seen what happened and Callum wanted to confront Cain alone. But that wouldn’t be possible – a few students had come out of the classroom and were watching him, Cain amongst them.
“Are you okay?” called the new boy, faking concern.
Callum couldn’t believe his nerve. “Like you care,” he spat at Cain, his voice loud and sharp.
A murmur of surprise ran through the group.
Cain played innocent. “Hey, don’t take it out on me. I was just trying to be nice.” He spoke to Callum’s classmates. “You just can’t help some people.”
