Blood Entwines

by Caroline Healy

  Eww.

  The PE teacher blew the whistle.

  ‘Team up, people. We only have thirty minutes and I want to see you sweat in this half hour or I’ll make you do circuits.’

  The class groaned together at the prospect. Kara looked around the sports hall. On the opposite side of the volleyball net, gathered together in a huddle, were Ashleigh, Jenny, Lisa and Thomas. There were two other boys who she didn’t recognise. Ashleigh was the self-designated team leader.

  Kara turned round to see who she had been lumbered with. She cringed. Kevin, the guy who sat near her in English, he had the reflexes of a snail on tranquillisers. Then there were two girls from her history class. They smiled at her before continuing their hushed conversation. Kara could hear it clearly: they were planning a house party for the weekend. Then Steve, Ashleigh’s ex-boyfriend, he gave her a sheepish wave before taking his position in their half of the court.

  Kara noticed the final member of her team nervously biting her nails. It was that girl, Heather or Hester or something, the same girl who had dropped her folder yesterday in class. She was staring at Kara. Her eyes were a piercing light grey. When the girl noticed Kara looking, she lowered her gaze, stubbing the toe of her trainer on the rubber of the court.

  A memory snapped to attention.

  Ashleigh, a year ago, at the front steps of the school: ‘What do you mean, you don’t have notes?’

  The other girl, the one with the grey eyes, staring at the floor, her books hugged to her chest like armour.

  ‘Are you deaf?’ Ashleigh right up in her space, towering over her, blonde hair framing her perfect face. ‘I said –’

  ‘I heard you.’ The girl hadn’t spoken loudly, but her voice was hard, like fire-struck flint.

  Then Ashleigh pushed, sending the girl back against the pebble-dashed wall. ‘I want those notes, you epileptic freak. I can make your life very difficult . . .’

  Kara had just stood there, with Jenny, both of them looking on. They had seen Ashleigh angry before, but never like this. It was as if she couldn’t bear a person like the girl with the grey eyes defying her.

  ‘Bailey!’ The teacher was shouting at her, bringing her out of her memory. ‘Front and centre!’

  Kara shuffled forward. She hadn’t played sport in ages. The physio sessions over the last few months were her only form of activity and they could hardly be called fun. She remembered the pain in her leg and stumbled, her feet sticking to the rubber of the court. Someone from the other side of the net laughed.

  The teacher blew the whistle.

  Kara straightened up, her vision acute, her hearing precise. Sod the advice from the physio about taking it easy. She was going to kick the crap out of the other team, figuratively speaking. Bending her knees, she waited in anticipation of the game. Her body was tight, the muscles bunched together, zinging with energy. This might actually be fun.

  The game was evenly matched. Kara quickly realised that Ashleigh’s ex-boyfriend was practically blind but too conceited to wear glasses. He kept missing the ball. His hand-eye coordination was as rubbish as his taste in girlfriends, apparently. The two girls who were planning the party kept it together, volleying the ball between them. Kevin took centre court leaving Kara and the girl with grey eyes to defend the area in front of the net. It was easy to see that her teammate at the front was not a fan of fast flying balls. Her hands kept jumping up to protect her face any time the ball volleyed her way.

  Kara gritted her teeth and resolved to make an effort to ease this girl’s discomfort. It was the least she could do, seeing as she’d stood by and watched Ashleigh humiliate her on more than one occasion. Kara’s skin heated up with a flush of shame.

  At the other side of the net Ashleigh shouted instructions. She took her position at the back of the court. She never actually jumped for the ball herself, but she was good at giving orders, could see the weakness in Kara’s team, knew how to exploit it.

  Ashleigh called to her friends during the water break, drawing them in for a team huddle.

  ‘Water?’ Kevin called to Kara, holding up a bottle, distracting her from eavesdropping. Kara shook her head. She wasn’t thirsty. She wanted to hear what they were saying. She looked at the court, concentrating on listening.

  ‘I hate this too,’ moaned Jenny. ‘But I still don’t think fouling Kara is such a good idea.’

  ‘Jenny,’ replied Ashleigh, sweetly, ‘why don’t you keep your opinions to yourself? No one wants to continue with this torture. I have sweat trickling down my boobs. How gross is that?’

  There was a heartbeat of silence. Nobody was willing to disagree.

  ‘Anyway,’ continued Ashleigh, ‘Kara hates volleyball, but if you have such a major girl crush on her then . . .’ Someone snickered, but Kara couldn’t tell who it was.

  The teacher blew the whistle at that exact moment and Kara couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation. They were planning on fouling her?

  The teacher threw the ball in. Kara felt a rush of air as the volleyball flew towards her head. She put her hands up automatically and pushed it away. It spun backwards towards Kevin, who managed to fling it with little grace back across the net.

  The next volley was aimed at a similar position, front and direct, aimed for head level, Kara huffed with concentration, fending away each volley, sometimes back over the net and sometimes back towards her team, but she never let it drop. Her knees were bruised and a little sore from sliding across the court, but her resolve was strong. She climbed to her feet after another slide and glared across at Ashleigh who was at the rear of the court, directing events.

  ‘Bitch!’ Kara mouthed the word, making sure that Ashleigh could lip-read. The other girl whispered something to Jenny, but Kara couldn’t hear. Steve was calling to the team, shouting encouragement.

  The ball launched into the air, the opposition team keeping it going for a few seconds, carefully choosing their target. Kara noticed Ashleigh taking a step back while Jenny and Lisa moved up together at court centre. They adjusted their bodies and got ready to leap towards the spiralling ball.

  Their position was all wrong. For a minute Kara smiled smugly to herself; they were so off. The ball was nowherenear her. It would surely go wide. Kara glanced at Ashleigh. The other girl was glaring, not at Kara but at her teammate, at the girl with the grey eyes. As the ball rose in the air, Jenny jumped and took a vicious swipe.

  ‘No,’ shouted Kara.

  She heard the whistle of the air as the rocketing ball barrelled for her teammate’s head. Instinctively Kara leaped across the court, covering more space than she thought possible. She shoved her teammate out of the way before back-handing the ball across the net with all her might.

  Everything went a bit crazy after that.

  Kara had sent the girl flying across the court on her behind. She sat on the floor now looking up at Kara with wide eyes.

  ‘Sorry,’ whispered Kara sheepishly.

  The noise from the other side of the net caught her attention and they both looked across. The opposition team was gathered around a prone figure who was wailing. As the teacher pushed her way into the huddle, Kara could see Ashleigh crumpled on the ground, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, while a steady stream of blood trickled from it. The volleyball, innocent and stationary, sat abandoned at the other side of the net.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Kara explained to her teammate. ‘I didn’t think you saw the ball coming.’

  ‘I didn’t. It was moving so fast. Almost as fast as you.’ Her voice was smooth and sure, not soft and shy as Kara had expected. The girl was staring at Kara, a look of suspicion playing across her features. ‘You know she won’t let you get away with this.’

  Kara shrugged. ‘Ya, well, whatever. It was worth it.’ Kara helped the girl up and kept hold of her hand. ‘I’m Kara Bailey, by the way.’

  ‘I know who you are,’ replied the girl in an even tone. Kara stood still, the girl’s hand gripped in her sweaty on
e. For some reason Kara didn’t let it go. Instead she waited, barely daring to breathe.

  Kara half expected the girl to push her away, but she didn’t. Instead she sighed, shook her head and tightened her hold on Kara’s hand. ‘I’m Hannah Quinn.’

  Kara smiled the smallest of smiles and dipped her head, happy to have made a proper introduction. In the ruckus of tending to Ashleigh’s injury, Kara and Hannah dodged to the changing rooms. Neither of them wanted to wait around for the inquisition that would surely follow.

  The rest of the morning passed with no other incidents. Ashleigh must have gone home and Kara imagined that she would be spending all her time in front of the mirror in her room examining the damage and planning her revenge.

  Though Kara wasn’t looking forward to that, she couldn’t help but replay the incident over in her head. She remembered pushing Hannah out of the way and slamming all her weight through her knees up into the air, a long way from the ground, and walloping the ball in the direction of the opposition.

  She hadn’t meant to wreak havoc on anyone, particularly Ashleigh. So the only thing she could do was put it down to cosmic force and fates lending a helping hand. Served Ashleigh right anyway, she was getting some of her own medicine. What she had planned for Hannah had backfired. Karma, baby!

  Kara thought of the quiet girl with the grey eyes. She couldn’t remember anything remarkable about the girl, just that she seemed to always be there, at the back of Kara’s memories, an ever-watchful presence.

  ‘Hi.’

  Kara yelped, dropping her book. ‘Ben! How do you always manage to sneak up on me?’ she asked, exasperated.

  ‘Because you’re always thinking,’ he said, bending to retrieve her book. ‘Wrapped up in your own thoughts.’

  She twisted her fingers through her short hair and attempted to glare at him.

  ‘Thanks,’ he offered.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Thanks. That’s what people usually say when you do them a favour.’

  She looked at him, perplexed.

  ‘Your locker,’ he volunteered.

  ‘Oh, ya, right. Thanks,’ Kara responded meekly.

  ‘Such gratitude!’

  Kara smiled.

  He turned to head down the corridor. ‘You owe me, by the way,’ he said as he walked away.

  Kara swallowed nervously and watched his retreating figure. She knew she was beetroot from blushing and that everyone around her had heard his passing remark. Still, beneath the immediate embarrassment, she felt a soft tingle through her fingertips.

  What did he mean? She owed him what? Turning on her heel, she made her way to the canteen. The brief conversation with her friend had given her enough motivation to face the gathering crowd.

  It was time to get this over with.

  Chapter Twelve

  The dilemma was obvious as soon as she walked through the door. There they were, a collection of friends, potentially ex-friends, sitting at her usual lunch table. If there was a right moment to go sit with them, it was now. Ashleigh was nowhere to be seen.

  Only one small problem; it was Kara who had caused Ashleigh’s unexpected absence in the first place.

  She needed to get this over with. There wasn’t really any other option. Then Kara saw her – Hannah Quinn with her pale, ghost eyes – watching from a table at the other side of the room. Maybe Kara did have an option after all.

  She skipped the queue for food, suddenly not very hungry. Nervous, she lowered her gaze as she picked her way around tables, carefully stepping over school bags and jackets, gym gear and art projects.

  The noise that irritated her at the beginning and the smells that threatened to overpower her senses could now be easily ignored, compartmentalised. Right now she was ignoring a whole lot of stuff.

  As Kara approached her regular table, Jenny looked up, her lips puckered together. Jenny had been upgraded to leader in Ashleigh’s absence and appeared to be taking her position very seriously. She looked at Kara with a solemn expression, hands spread out in front of her, palms down, as if she was about to enter intense negotiations. Kara smirked. Trust Jenny, ever the diplomat, but only when Ashleigh wasn’t around.

  Jenny put her hand protectively on the empty chair and began to speak, but Kara didn’t hang around to listen. With a sweep of her cropped hair, she sailed past the table, her eyes firmly fixed on her intended destination.

  Screw you, Jenny, she thought as she crossed the canteen.

  Kara noticed Hannah’s eyes grow large as she realised what was about to happen. The girl looked to either side, perhaps searching for an escape route. Unsuccessful in an exit strategy, she watched Kara approach. The table was covered with books and study notes.

  Kara nodded at the empty seats. ‘Is it OK if I sit here?’

  The pause went on for a few seconds, in fact Kara felt like it went on longer than was necessary as Hannah scrutinised her. She didn’t say anything, just dipped her head once, shrugging her shoulders.

  ‘Thanks,’ whispered Kara, breathing a sigh of relief. She had just committed social suicide; she needed to sit down. Kara, slowly retrieving her homework from her bag, assumed that Hannah hated her as much as the others and didn’t want to talk. She intended to sit here quietly and make a start on all the homework that was piling up.

  Hannah was silent, hunched over her books. When she eventually did say something her voice was so low it almost took Kara by surprise.

  ‘That was pretty stupid.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘You have just crossed a line. There’s no going back now.’ She nodded her head discreetly in the direction of Jenny’s table.

  Kara fiddled with her pen, unsure what to say. She wondered what it was like to be virtually invisible every day of your life. She baulked at the prospect and simultaneously a surge of guilt flooded through her. She’d been no different from Ashleigh in her approach to the quiet, grey-eyed girl. Collectively, Jenny, Ashleigh, all of them, they had blanked Hannah Quinn. It seemed ironic and somewhat appropriate that Kara should end up sitting at her table.

  What was it about Hannah that caused her to be alone day after day in class, in the canteen, making no effort to fit in? As far as Kara could make out, she wasn’t a crazed maniac or someone likely to inflict harm on the school population. She stared at Hannah, noticing for the first time that she was actually pretty, in a quiet, unassuming way. If she swept the masses of hair from her face so the world could see her, then maybe she would be considered very pretty.

  Hannah wore a school blazer, a size too big. The collar of her off-white shirt was scuffed, the sleeves of her jumper unravelling at the ends. Hannah was a scholarship student; that was why Kara had never seen her around the neighbourhood. She must have come from across town to attend this school. She wondered for a moment where she lived, what her life was like, why she was here at St Aloysius’?

  Kara was pulled back from her thoughts by a very strange feeling, like a sort of prodding, not an actual prod, but something like cold, pudgy fingers pressing into her brain, trying to root through her thoughts.

  ‘Stop it,’ she said. She looked at Hannah, who gazed steadily back at her. ‘Stop it,’ she said, more firmly this time, and closed down the doors to her consciousness.

  Hannah regarded her for a minute and shrugged her shoulders. ‘If you keep talking to yourself, you definitely won’t have any friends.’

  Kara sat in silence for a minute, watching Hannah diligently complete her homework, her head bent over the pages in front of her. She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but the clammy feeling of someone sifting through her thoughts stayed with her until the bell rang.

  Hannah began to pack away her notes, patting them together into a neat pile. ‘OK,’ she said, with an over-exaggerated sigh.

  ‘OK what?’ asked Kara.

  ‘You can hang out with me. But only if you promise not to cramp my style.’

  Kara’s hand paused mid-action. She wasn’t sure what to say. The
n she realised that Hannah was mocking her. Kara sighed. The girl actually had a sense of humour.

  There it was again, the sensation of someone riffling through her thoughts, like a gloved thief pawing through drawers.

  ‘Are you doing that?’ she asked Hannah.

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘Never mind . . . It’s just there is this kind of, you know, like a . . .’

  Hannah shook her head and walked out of the canteen.

  Something strange was going on; another side effect perhaps? Kara shuddered and began to follow Hannah whose shoulders had hunched over her books. The girl’s head bowed down as she made her way, inconspicuously, along the corridor. To Kara it seemed as if Hannah melted in between the students. They never noticed her, never even looked in her direction. It was as if she was invisible. For a brief moment Kara wanted to feel like that.

  As they entered class, Kara slid into the seat next to Hannah, forgoing her usual spot one row back.

  Hannah glared at her, ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘What was that?’ demanded Kara. ‘In the canteen, that prodding sensation. That was you, wasn’t it?’

  Hannah looked at her and shrugged her shoulders. ‘It doesn’t work on you.’

  ‘What doesn’t?’

  Hannah nodded her head at the English teacher. A small furrow crept across Hannah’s brow. Her lips moved silently. Kara found herself holding her breath, her gaze pulled between the quiet unassuming girl who sat beside her and the intended target of whatever weird voodoo was going on.

  Mrs Byrne stopped mid-sentence and her eyes glazed over for a moment. Her mouth hung open, the pinkness of her tongue visible, and she cocked her head to one side as if listening to some silent instruction and. Then she nodded once before turning to the class.

  ‘Everyone, take five minutes to chat before I begin the lesson.’