Читать книгу Hunt and Power - Stephen Hayes - Страница 5

The two periods following recess were just as boring as the two that had preceded it, although we boys received a couple of wake-up calls. Firstly, Hall announced to the class that the next Monday he would begin asking for dates on which we would perform our oral presentations. We were allowed to choose when we wanted to do them; when we were ready.

“I know you’ll all be looking to put them off for as long as possible,” he said, staring around pointedly. “But let me assure you that you will be well placed to receive better marks if you are one of the first few; I often go easy on the first few.”

“That won’t be us,” said Peter under his breath. He, James and I were working together, but we had yet to decide what we would talk about.

Then in History, Mrs. Worlker did a ten-minute catch-up session, due to the fact that so many people hadn’t bothered turning up for the class the previous Monday. She had taken note of the few that were there, which included all five of us, and shot questions around the room at those people relating to what we had done in that lesson. Anton was the only person who impressed her; the rest were either stupid or had been involved in the Crystal business and hadn’t paid enough attention; or, in the case of Harry and Simon, both.

When we met up at lunch time in the locker bay, we were all in a bad mood; Mrs. Worlker had given us another stack of homework to do before Wednesday’s class. This time, it was Katie and Sophie who had followed us, whispering in Harry and Simon’s ears, respectively. No guesses as to what was going on there, I thought. The twelve of us spent most of lunch time talking about Stella again; Marc hadn’t had a chance to talk to her yet, so we didn’t get any further than we had been at recess.

After lunch, however, I was forced to think about other things. We had PE, and we were to start playing proper soccer matches out on the oval. Two weeks earlier, we had divided into teams, and we would spend the next few weeks playing off. Our team consisted of all Young Army members—Peter, James, Harry, Simon, Serena, Erica, David, Craig (who was captain), Daniel, Liam and myself.

“There will be two matches in progress this afternoon,” Mr. Happy told the mass of students (large as ever, given that all the year-nine classes had PE at the same time). “The team not playing is dismissed and can go do whatever they like—even go home,” he added, and suddenly no one was interested in playing soccer anymore. “On the far side of the oval will be Jim Rich’s team against Sally Hipmore’s team. On the near side of the oval will be Jordan Bolton’s team against Craig Hardy’s team. Okay people, let’s go!”

Within ten minutes, we were playing ball. It ended up being a two-all draw, but it was good in that it took all our minds off more serious matters. Peter scored first with a slip around an opponent, which even I was impressed with. It was good to see that he hadn’t lost his touch over the summer (we had all played soccer during the year—all us boys except James and Daniel, anyway). Robyn Lloyd kicked the next goal from a penalty, levelling the scores, but within minutes David displayed some extremely nimble skills for a tall guy in scoring our second. Troy Menora goaled within minutes of time, but only because James, who was the goal keeper, let his guard down, clearly thinking we’d done enough to win.

The bell rang not long after the end of the game, and we all hurried back to the locker bay to get our stuff. If it weren’t for the massive sign right over our lockers, we might have forgotten that we were supposed to meet with Hall first. So grudgingly, Peter, Harry, Simon and I said goodbye to James and the others and set off for Room 12, where we were to serve our detention.

The rest of our fellow trouble makers were already waiting outside the room when we arrived. Justin Time and Tulip Naval were whispering together, and I had a feeling I knew what they were talking about. Between the two of them, they could be as difficult as me, Peter and the twins all put together—if they were on their game, anyway. I certainly hoped they were on their game today, because as far as I was concerned, Hall deserved everything coming to him for the way he’d behaved the week before. Behind them, George Tuck and Belinda Pensinger, who were clearly an item, were locked in what looked like a fierce match of tonsil hockey. I looked away, not wanting to be reminded of my own love life, or lack thereof.

“Any ideas, you two?” Peter asked Justin when we reached them.

He shook his head. “We think we’ll be able to think of something once we get in there,” he said, “but it’s difficult to plan for Hall.”

I knew what he meant. A few weeks ago we had been trying to plan the same thing, but none of our plans had worked, and we’d eventually gone back to spontaneity, which always seemed to be our greatest weapon. The only certainty was that we had to do something; after our history with Hall, sitting back and letting him bully us was not an option.

“Just in time, here he comes,” said Tulip, looking over Simon’s shoulder and down the hall.

“I’m right here, bitch,” laughed Justin, slapping Tulip on the back.

Indeed, Hall was coming down the hall, pushing a trolley in front of him. The trolley was loaded with paper.

“Uh-oh,” said Harry, staring at the trolley.

“What?” I asked, not catching on to what the rest of them were thinking.

“Eight,” said Hall, counting us as he reached us. “Excellent … excellent.”

“You won’t be saying that once we’re through with you,” said Justin under his breath, while the rest of us sniggered.

“What’s that?” Hall asked, scowling.

“Oh, nothing, sir,” said Justin brightly. Hall looked around at the rest of us, all trying to hide our smirks, and scowled.

Then he turned and unlocked the door and we all filed into the room. Hall pushed the trolley to his desk while the rest of us gathered around, waiting for our instructions.

“I have tasks for each of you,” he said. “Now you two,” he looked at Harry and Simon, “your job will be to sort through these newspapers, writing page-long summaries for as many articles as you can get through. Bring each to me as you finish them, so I can correct your spelling, grammar and overall style. If it is insufficient, you will do it again. Okay?”

“That’s not okay,” said Simon dully, staring at the mountain of newspapers Hall was indicating.

“Excellent,” said Hall cheerfully. “Now, get to it. Just take the stack into that corner and face away from the rest of the room so that the rest of these (he indicated me and Peter in particular) don’t distract you.”

“You say it as though we’re objects, sir,” said Peter, grinning cheekily.

“That remains to be seen,” said Hall darkly.

Harry and Simon looked at each other, downcast, before taking the trolley of terror with them to the corner of the room. When they got there, Harry looked around at Hall and said, “Er—where do we get the paper from?”

“Pensinger!” Hall snapped at Belinda.

She jumped and pulled away from George, whom she had been pashing in clear view of the room. “What?” she said, looking annoyed that she’d been interrupted.

“I want you to go down to Room 74 and bring back a box of A4 paper,” Hall answered. “If the room is locked—which it shouldn’t be—go and ask for a key from the office. If anyone asks what you’re doing, tell them Mr. Hall sent you. If they try to stop you or don’t believe you, come back here and I’ll give you a note of permission. Go now.”

Belinda scowled, but left the room, looking back and blowing a kiss at George as she went. The moment the door had closed, Hall rounded on George, who’d been looking awkward the whole time.

“And you, Tuck, for your cheek, can sort through these.”

He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a large box, which he handed to George.

“What is it?” George asked.

“Items I have accumulated from various troublesome students over the years,” Hall told him, grinning evilly. “And from other places, I might add.”

“What do I do with them?” asked George, taking the box.

“Retrieve the clean items, dispose of the dirty ones. I never took notice of which was which over the years. I want a nice, clean collection when you’re finished. Anything you need, let me know,” said Hall, before he turned to Justin and Tulip. “Now, I don’t want you two anywhere near each other. Time, you sit over there, in that seat (he pointed to Harry’s usual seat) and Naval, you sit there (he pointed to a seat on the opposite side of the room). You will both be writing lines, 150 in fact, and you can leave when you have finished. I will tell you what to write shortly.”

Not listening to the teacher, I had followed George to his seat, interested to see what was in the box. When he opened it, I saw something that made my stomach twist in revulsion. The box was full of unwrapped, twisted condoms. What had Hall said? Retrieve the clean ones? Oh God…

“This is harassment,” said George, looking around at Hall in disgust. “You expect me to touch other guys’—”

Hall just wiggled a finger at him. “It’s no worse than what the rest of us had to watch you doing just now, Tuck.”

“Can I at least have a pair of rubber gloves?” George asked.

“Gloves?” Hall repeated nastily. “Are you a man or what? Afraid to get your fingers dirty? No, I think you’ll need good, sensitive fingers to determine the state of each one.”

George was red with rage, but Hall wasn’t done with him. “Anyone would think you’d never seen one of those, judging by your reaction; still got a way to go with Pensinger?”

“You leave her out of this!” snapped George. He looked ready to punch Hall, and I would have been very happy to see it, whatever the consequences later.

“It wasn’t my decision to put on that public display of affection in the middle of a detention, Tuck,” said Hall silkily. “Now, unless you wish to repeat the experience in your next detention, I suggest you get to work immediately.”

George bit his lip, aware that he would have more detentions piled on him if he retorted. He threw Hall the dirtiest look I’d ever seen before turning back to the condoms and picking one out.

“Interested in those, are you, Playman?” Hall snapped. I jumped. I was still watching George, unable to take my eyes off the sickly sight that was his job for the next half-hour, but now I remembered where I was.

“No,” I said, tearing my gaze away and looking up at him.

“That’s just as well, because I don’t have any spare boxes,” said Hall. My stomach fell; if that was the only reason, he would probably make me help George. “But since I’ve never seen you behaving the way Tuck was, I expect you wouldn’t even understand the function of those items. Perhaps you would do well to observe him.”

My face was burning with embarrassment and rage. Normally Peter would laugh if someone (namely the twins) said something like that, but even he looked furious this time.

“Both of you will write lines,” said Hall, turning to the blackboard and beginning to write.

“I … will … show … respect … and … adoration … to … my … teachers … at … all … times,” Peter read as Hall wrote. “You’ve gotta be joking. ‘Adoration’?”

“You will both write that 150 times,” said Hall cruelly. “Naval, Time, I have a different line for you two.”

He moved across to the other side of the board and began to write. ‘I will not use knowledge gained during classes against my teachers.’

“Now get going,” he said to them, before turning back to me and Peter, who hadn’t moved. “What are you two waiting for, someone to blow a whistle?”

We looked at each other and moved towards the desks. As long as we were stuck here, we didn’t have anything better to do.

“Oh no, Playman,” said Hall, stopping me in my tracks. “You sit there.” He indicated the chair next to George. “And you can sit there.” He pointed Peter towards a chair right in the middle of the room, nowhere near anyone else.

It went quiet after that, and I began writing my lines. A few times, against my will, my eyes left the paper and went sideways. I felt sincerely sorry for George’s position; he looked as though he was going to be sick. Peter, Justin and Tulip were busy writing, barely looking up. Harry and Simon were merely reading, but within minutes they began reading and discussing the newspaper articles aloud for the rest of us to hear. It made things more interesting.

“That will do, you two,” said Hall sharply after Harry made an amusing comment that caused the room to erupt into laughter. “Work quietly.”

“You can’t stop us,” Harry said to Hall. “If we go quiet, you won’t know what we’re doing. And I can assure you it won’t be what you want. At least this way you know what we’re up to.”

Hall contemplated this argument for a moment before saying, “Very well, that’s a good point. Just make sure you keep it serious. No funny business in the summaries.”

A few minutes later, Belinda returned with a box of paper, which she dumped beside the trolley from which the twins were taking newspapers. She then made a B-line for George, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw what he was doing. She stared at him and the box of condoms, several of which were now on the desk as they’d been deemed clean, then she rounded on Hall.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing, making him do that?” she shouted. “How do you think you’ll get away with this?”

“How do you think you’ll stop me?” Hall asked calmly. “An extra detention for you, Pensinger. Now sit in that seat beside Playman and write that (he pointed at the line he’d given Justin and Tulip) 150 times. Go on, get to it.”

But Belinda didn’t move. She stared at him furiously for a moment, before turning back to George, who was silently begging her to do something. They looked at each other hopelessly until Hall’s voice interrupted their musings.

“Get going, or it’ll be yet another detention for both of you. I’ll see to it that you, Pensinger, will receive an even more gruesome task than Tuck next time.”

Finally they both shrugged and Belinda turned away sadly, going to sit with Peter. I felt hopeless for both of them. If I had more guts myself, I’d help George sort through the condoms, but if I didn’t have to touch them myself, I didn’t want to.

My hand automatically went to my pocket and around the Light Crystal, which I carried everywhere with me. It was a manifestation of good, and a bit of goodness was due right about now. I unfolded the hankies from around it and touched the surface with a finger. It wasn’t until this point that I’d even thought about what I was doing; my mind was still full of thoughts about where those condoms had been in past years, and I just hoped that George wouldn’t throw up before the end of the detention, because I was sure that Hall would make either him or Belinda (or me) clean it up. I just wished there was something I could do to make it easier for him…

Then I jumped. The crystal had gone warm in my hand for a moment. What had that been about? I felt it again, and it was back to normal. I quickly took my hand out of my pocket, making sure the crystal was covered by the hankies again, and continued writing my lines, sweating slightly.

“Well this guy makes it sound as though he was right to say that,” Harry was saying to the room at large. “Which is ridiculous.”

“Of course it is,” said Simon. “But what does he know?”

“Well, he’s a journo—”

“An uneducated journo,” said Simon.

“Right,” said Harry. “Right on the money, old chap. That’s my summary of this article.”

‘I will show respect and adoration to my teachers at all times.’ ‘I will show respect and adoration to my teachers at all times.’ I was getting heartily sick of writing it, but I was only up to forty-seven and I still had over one hundred to go before I would be allowed to leave. Curse that bastard of a teacher! Without thinking, I glanced across at George and his box of wonders. The pile of Hall’s happy memories on the desk had grown considerably since the last time I had looked, and I noticed that George was merely picking them up, looking at them and tossing them to the side. He appeared much more comfortable now, as if he’d settled into the work and knew exactly what he was doing.

“No dirty ones left, eh?” I hissed out of the side of my mouth so that Hall wouldn’t notice.

“No,” he whispered mysteriously. “It looked worse than it really is. I bet they were all his and he’s just never had anyone to use them with.”

I sniggered at the thought but broke off when I noticed that he had also snuck a few into his pockets. I looked away in disgust; as far as I was concerned, they should never be used, even if they were clean.

“They did look bad,” I said, remembering how they had all looked in there and wondering how it could possibly…

Then I realised! A connection had formed in my mind between the moment George had started throwing condoms aside and the moment when the Light Crystal had gone warm in my hand. I’d been thinking about what I could possibly do to help him when that had happened. Could it possibly be that the condoms had cleaned themselves through some sort of magic from the crystal? I knew nothing about what the Light Crystal did, except that it was good, so I supposed it may have been possible. I made a mental note to get on the Internet next chance I got and do some research into the Light Crystal, assuming there was any information to find.

“Why are you taking them, though?” I asked, my stomach twisting at the thought of second-hand condoms.

“They’ve never been used,” he said quietly. “Might as well make use of them. Saves me going and buying them. Might as well make something good of this horrible experience.”

“Eww,” I said. “I’d never do that, all the same.”

“Ah come on,” he said. “You might need them one of these days…”

“Well I’d go and buy them if that was the case,” I said, looking away from the long rubbery thing he was dangling in front of my eyes, acutely uncomfortable with this conversation.

“You sure? Freebies, ya know,” he said, pocketing another one as he tossed three more into the pile on the desk.

I didn’t answer, but bent over my lines and started writing again. I’d written three more before George said, “You might end up using one anyway, if my sister wants to take a few of these.”

“What?” I asked, my head snapping up.

“My sister,” he repeated, grinning. “She’s been banging on about you ever since she got back from camp. God, the detail she went into about what she wants to do to you—”

“What on earth…” Suddenly I realised who he was talking about. George Tuck. Lena Tuck. Why hadn’t I made the connection? I had only known Lena since about a week ago, and last Thursday, she had indicated that she had a crush on me. In fact, she had been what I considered to be abnormally overt about her feelings. It had been a little intimidating, but that wasn’t the reason why I was nervous about her.

“She’s so totally hot for you,” he went on.

“And what am I supposed to think of that?” I asked warily.

“Do her a favour and screw her senseless,” he said, smirking at my awkwardness. “She’s never had one, you know. We keep telling her to get her butt into gear, ‘cause she’s had so many guys after her before, but she’s finally found someone she likes and it’d break her heart if you turn her away.”

“Oh great,” I said dully. He’d just made my situation ten times more difficult. “I wouldn’t want to do that.”

It was true. I appreciated how attractive Lena was, and if my heart was a little looser, I’d jump at the chance to be the envy of nearly every guy in school. But the fact remained that I was, and always had been, attracted to Natalie. I’d always considered myself no chance, which was why I’d never had a girlfriend before, and probably the reason why I had little to no confidence with girls. But I also knew that she liked me too, thanks to Sebastian stealing her personal diary and confiding in me. I was still uneasy about dating her—how that would affect the group and the Young Army itself—but my hopes of hooking up had risen higher than they’d ever been in the last few days. Still, getting involved with Lena was the worst thing I could do if I was serious about Natalie.

“Are you close to her?” I asked George, turning back to the situation at hand. I didn’t think my own sister would ever share that kind of information with me or Peter. I wasn’t aware of her having a boyfriend in the past. I knew of her crush on Marc, but only as passing knowledge; she had never gone into detail about her feelings. As for Felicity and Jessica, I knew nothing at all about their love lives. If Lena told George about her feelings, they obviously had a different relationship than the rest of us.

“Close enough to know what she’s going through,” he said. “Perhaps having Belinda around has made her see what she’s been missing out on. She’s always been a quiet, studious type. Nobody really knows her on the inside—they just see how attractive she is. But I’m trying to get her to change that, make her more outgoing.”

“And that she has been,” I said darkly, remembering how openly she had flirted with me on camp. Even at Marc’s house the previous day, she’d been trying to catch my eye.

“Good,” he said. “Should be a lot of fun, then.”

I said nothing, my stomach writhing with panic. George was a big guy, about as tall as Harry and Simon, though more muscular and clearly tougher; not the sort of guy you’d want to go toe-to-toe with any day. He sounded protective of Lena, and I knew he’d knock my lights out if I hurt her. But what about Natalie? What on earth was I going to do? All I wanted to do now was get out of here and talk to James and Peter; get some much-needed advice. I therefore got to scribbling with my lines once again.

“You’re not interested, huh?” he asked.

I looked at him and decided the truth was my best bet for now. Evidently my face was going to give me away, no matter how hard I tried to hide it. “Sure I am. Who wouldn’t be? The thing is, I’m more interested in someone else. I don’t want to screw up my chances there if I can help it.”

George shrugged. “Maybe you’ll change your mind about that.”

“Ah, I see there’s plenty of chatter going on,” said Hall, making the class go completely quiet. I suddenly noticed that we’d been talking a little louder than we should have been; not loud enough for most people to hear over the twins, but enough for Hall to know we weren’t doing enough work. Further to that, it seemed as though Peter and Belinda had also been in conversation.

“Well, I think we’ll just have to do a bit of shuffling,” Hall noted. “Remember, none of you can leave 'til you’ve completed your task. Naval, Pensinger, you two swap places. Time, you look like a man in need of an education; you come up here and take Playman’s seat. Playman, you take your brother’s seat, and you,” he stared at Peter with hatred all over his face, “can sit in Time’s seat. Move!”

Feeling that this detention couldn’t finish soon enough, I stood up and took my things to where Peter was sitting.

“What were you talking about?” I hissed curiously at him at he went past.

“Him,” he muttered, jerking his thumb at Hall before moving to sit in Justin’s lonely seat. I sat down and was joined a moment later by a frustrated-looking Tulip.

“I wasn’t looking for personal opinions,” Hall said to Harry when he showed him his first summary. “Go back and do it again. Summarise the article; don’t give me your opinion of the journalist. If you’ve done the same thing,” he said to Simon, “then you might as well start again now.”

“Grrr!” the twins said in unison as they returned to their seats.

“And another thing, you two,” Hall said. “If you give me identical summaries, I will send you both back to do them again.”

The twins looked extremely annoyed for a moment before scrunching their summaries up and tossing them across the room, where they landed cleanly in the rubbish bin. They then resumed discussion of the article they had been studying for the last fifteen minutes.

I got going again with my lines. ‘I will show respect and adoration to my teachers at all times.’ ‘I will show respect and adoration to my teachers at all times.’ ‘I will show respect and adoration to my teachers at all times.’ It was desperately dull, but I was now in the eighties and fast moving towards the hundred mark. My writing was very untidy, even by my standards, but I hardly cared at this stage. I also had to contend with Tulip, who kept muttering things about Hall out of the corner of her mouth at me which, although they were distracting, were also hilarious, and caused me to make several mistakes.

Minutes passed in silence. Harry and Simon had stopped talking, as they were writing summaries of their own about an article they’d already discussed to death. George and Justin were in whispered conversation, but I had no idea what they were talking about. Peter and Belinda, too, were silent as they scribbled away. I could see that Tulip wanted to talk to me, but I kept my head down and kept plodding along with my lines. I just wanted to get out of there.

* * *

I was first out of the detention, having scribbled my last twenty-or-so lines quicker than ever. Over the following ten minutes, the others (bar the twins) were allowed to leave too. When Peter came out, we set off for home. I was dying to tell him about what George had said, but now that I was free to think about things, I was also eager to discuss the information Marc had given us earlier.

Neither our parents or grandparents were in sight when we arrived home, but Nicole was waiting for us in the Playman kitchen, where she had spread her homework out over the kitchen table.

“You were ages,” she said. “That was longer than half an hour.”

“A hundred and fifty lines,” said Peter dully. “Blimey, he’s getting worse and worse.”

“That’s not that bad,” she said. “I mean, I know it's boring as all hell but—”

“No, he really is getting worse,” I said. “The way he was treating us—his blows were far more stinging today than they’ve ever been, plus he had one poor guy decontaminating a box of condoms that could have come from anywhere.”

Nicole made a choking sound. “He can’t do that, can he?”

“I prefer not to think about it myself,” said Peter. “Hall enjoying himself, I mean—”

“I don’t know if he can,” I said dully. “George and Belinda went to put in a complaint when they got out; they called it ‘cruel and unusual punishment’.”

“I bet they were all just him and his hand anyway,” said Nicole, smirking. “Listen, come upstairs, I just got a call from Marc.”

“Yeah? Any news?” asked Peter as the three of us shot upstairs, where we shut ourselves in the bedroom Peter and I shared.

“Well he talked about this so-called party with Lucien,” she said, sitting down on my bed. “And he thinks we’ll be okay. It seems that the Hammersons can’t use their magic, but if Amelia goes then she’ll be able to. Marc says he’s asked Stella about what will happen if they use their magical devices, and she’s not really sure, so I think she’s going to try to make another pact with her family.”

“They’ll probably torture her for suggesting it,” I said darkly.

“That’ll make James happy,” said Peter, shaking his head. “He’s really got it in for her. Where is he, anyway?”

Nicole shook her head. “I have no idea. I know Jessica and Felicity shot through to Lisa’s place to do some homework—”

“Why aren’t you there?” I asked suspiciously.

“’Cause I wasn’t quick enough to leave,” she said irritably. “Mum caught me on my way out and reminded me that I’m grounded. Those Thomases are gonna cop it when they get home, although Felicity and Jessica will get the better end since it’s for school.”

“How long did they say we’re grounded for, anyway?” asked Peter.

“I don’t think they did,” I said, thinking back to that night when our mums had gone crazy with rage. “They’d lost their minds when they were punishing us; probably weren’t thinking about what they were saying.”

“Perhaps we should ask them,” said Nicole nervously.

“You can,” I said, grinning slightly. “I’m not going to.”

Nicole grinned back at me. “Gutless?”

“No, just—”

“I’ll ask Dad,” she said, getting to her feet. “He’ll be a little more reasonable. At least he can appreciate our position, since he was involved in the last war.”

“Good idea,” said Peter, getting up and heading for the computer.

Nicole left us at that point, probably to return to her homework.

“So, whataya reckon,” he said, and I didn’t need to ask what he meant.

“Dodgy,” I said. “I think I’ll take whatever Lucien’s advice is. Mind you, I can understand why Stella would want us around her.”

“Me too,” said Peter. “But if that’s the case, why don’t we just do something for her ourselves? We can have our own little party for her.”

“Do you think the others would go to that much trouble for Stella?” I asked.

“Nah, probably not,” he said, shaking his head. “Blimey, this is complicated. I don’t even want to talk to James about this.”

“What do you think the odds are of James turning up to Stella’s party at all?” I asked, amused to think about it.

“Not as low as you’d expect,” said Peter, surprising me. “I reckon if the rest of us have the nerve to go, he will too, just to fit in. And possibly for support.”

That was true. Whatever James’s faults, I was sure he would do whatever he could to back us up if there was any real danger.

A silence followed. We seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement that continuing to discuss the business of Stella and her birthday party wasn’t going to get us anywhere. After all, we didn’t have control over what was going to happen. Grudgingly, we opened our schoolbags and pulled out some homework.

“Let’s just do a journal entry,” suggested Peter. “James can catch us up with that in his own time.”

The objective of our journal entries was to give Hall stuff that was completely pointless to read, as payback for everything he put us through. Today I wrote three pages about the life and adventures of a fly. It was rather creative, but I wasn’t entirely sure it was the sort of writing style Hall was after, so I wouldn’t have been surprised if he made me do it again. But given that he wasn’t asking for the journals for another three-and-a-half months, I pushed that to the back of my mind.

James turned up just after 5 o’clock, managing to slip past the parents and grandparents without being questioned.

“Where the hell have you been?” asked Peter, looking around at him.

“Blimey, what’s got you so good?” I asked, noticing that his face was full of pride and triumph.

“Well,” he said, crossing to Peter’s bed and plonking himself down, “I suppose I’ve gone and done it now.”

“Done what now?” asked Peter suspiciously.

James shrugged, and I could tell he was trying to decide how best to tell us. Eventually he said, “Took me long enough to accept it, but I’m starting to see it’s the right thing to do.”

“What’s that?” asked Peter irritably.

But I thought I knew what was going on. “You’ve been with Erica?” I asked, watching with amusement as Peter’s mouth fell open.

“You didn’t,” he said disbelievingly. “What about Kylie?”

The whole reason that James had pushed Erica away before was because he had his heart set on Kylie, much the same as I had mine set on Natalie. Well, that mightn’t have been the whole reason; quite likely he’d been put off by Erica’s scary persistence. Until now, it seemed.

“Blimey,” said James, looking me over. “You read me like a book. Shame you don’t read real books as effectively.”

“So are you on with her?” I asked, grinning in spite of myself.

“Well, sort-of,” he said shiftily.

“But what about Kylie?” asked Peter again.

“Well you know that’s why I was so unsure about it,” he said. “But the more time I’ve spent in the company of the two girls, the more I can see how much better I’ll be with Erica.”

“Why’s that?” asked Peter incredulously.

“Because at least Erica likes me for who I am,” James answered. “She did before she really knew me. I’m still not sure what attracted her, but now it doesn’t seem to matter too much. Besides, I like that I was able to make this decision myself, rather than having to be shot down. Kylie knows me well enough now and she’s never shown any interest. Not even a covert look. What are the chances that’ll change?”

“Did she tell you that?” I asked.

“She didn’t have to; I wasn’t born yesterday. One thing Erica told me, though, was that when she first got to Chopville, Kylie and Serena were the two first friends she made, and since Serena was pretty much in the same boat, the three of them bonded by sharing the secret of who each of them had her eye on. So if Kylie’s obviously not into me, it must be someone else. I can’t say I’m surprised,” he added lightly.

I was surprised, though; not that Kylie was into someone else, but that James truly didn’t seem to mind. There was no hint of concealed emotion in his face at all. Perhaps he hadn’t been full of wind about this situation being on his terms after all. I had to smile; this, it seemed, was proof that sometimes things really could work out without people getting hurt. It meant that perhaps, possibly, I could make my own decision between Natalie and Lena with the same all-around positive result.

Peter, on the other hand, looked rather unhappy by this. Taking a deep breath, he said, “So Serena likes someone else too?”

James considered the question before saying, “Yes, but she didn’t say who, so I suppose it could be you, Pete. Even if it’s not, it probably wouldn’t be impossible to change her mind if you let her know how you feel—”

“Does that ever work?” Peter asked incredulously.

“Sure it does,” said James, indicating himself as living proof. “It just means that you have to bite the bullet. After all, doing nothing is the best way of making sure that nothing happens.”

“You’ve grown up a lot in the last few days,” I observed.

“No, just gave myself some serious self-examination,” said James. “As you should probably do, John. Now that you know Natalie likes you, why don’t you be a bit more open about your feelings? What’s there to lose?”

“It’s really not that simple, James,” I said heavily, memories of what George had said coming back to me. “It got more complicated today.”

“It never was really easy,” said Peter, looking at me. “’Cause John doesn’t like hurting people, like he’ll have to hurt Lena and Stella if he gets with Natalie.”

My stomach lurched; I’d completely forgotten about Stella. Quite a few of the guys thought she, like Lena, had the hots for me too. I wasn’t sure if I believed it, although I had to admit many signs I’d seen in the last week suggested that they could have a point.

James shrugged. “You really should clean up your own backyard before you start worrying about what the neighbours are doing. Go get the one you want the most and let the chips fall where they may. As for the others, they’ll get over it. It’s not like the world revolves around you, John.”

“That's right,” said Peter. “It revolves around the sun, and the sun shines out of my arse.”

We all laughed and then I said, “I know you're right, James, but it doesn’t make me happier about it. Lena’s brother was talking to me about her today.”

“Uh-oh,” said Peter. “You mean George? I forgot about him. What’s he got to say for himself? How’d he enjoy his condom cleaning exercise, anyway?”

“What?” yelped James.

“That’s another thing,” I said, remembering the Light Crystal. “Wait—one thing at a time. He was saying how Lena’s been talking about me at home since we got back.”

“She sounds just like Erica,” said James. “Give it a couple of weeks and you’ll be on with her too—or does George want you away from her?”

“No, he wants me to ‘screw her senseless’,” I said, unable to stop myself from grinning. I could only guess, but Lena looked like she’d be as good as they came when it came to dancing the midnight cha cha.

Both Peter and James roared with laughter. “Yeah man,” Peter exclaimed. “You ride her like a stallion!”

“He was saying how she’s never had a boyfriend before,” I said, pressing on before the boys got carried away. “And how I could be the best thing that ever happened to her. And how she’d be devastated beyond repair if I pushed her away.”

“How can a chick that hot never have had a boyfriend before now?” Peter asked incredulously. “They’re swarming around her all the time. I probably would too if Serena didn’t have my eye. Just look at Sebastian.”

“Well he said she’s pretty smart,” I said, “so I suppose someone like Sebastian wouldn’t take her fancy. And none of the other girls liked him either; he must have a real reputation in year ten.”

“Maybe ask the year-tens if they know what she’s normally like,” said James. “Marc and Tommy will tell for sure.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” I said. “But what about Natalie? What do I do between the two of them?”

“You make up your mind real quick, that’s what,” said Peter. “Remember, Tommy’s after Nat too. Besides, there’s no reason why you can’t run your race with one then jump across to the other. Then by the time you’ve done ‘em both, you can skip over to Stella; sounds like a plan,” he added, and winked roguishly at me to let me know that he was joking, not that I needed it; we always knew when the other was just kidding around.

* * *

I’d completely forgotten, until I was lying in bed that night, that I hadn’t told anyone about the dream I’d had the previous night, nor had I done anything about what had happened with the Light Crystal, which was now back in my top drawer. I decided, as I lay in the dark, that I would keep those pieces of information close to my chest in the meantime. It may only complicate matters to bring them up when there was already so much else happening. Taking this approach, however, did make me feel a bit nervous. What if the dream and the Light Crystal turned out to be more important than everything else in the end?