1393: Part 10

Sian put her phone down and contemplated what was going on. She didn't quite know what to make of the whole situation still. She was happy that Kristina was reaching out to her as a friend, but what they were doing still felt somehow… wrong. At the same time, it was a little exciting, but she tried not to focus too hard on that side of things; steering clear of things that were exciting but perhaps morally dubious had kept her out of trouble thus far.

Kristina was worried about her friend, it seemed, but she hadn't elaborated on the details. It sounded like it might be something serious, but Sian couldn't even begin to imagine what the problem might be. She wondered if it was one of the things contributing to Kristina's seeming emotional fragility at the moment, but didn't like to guess. She knew all too well that guesses often escalated into outright anxiety, and that never got anyone anywhere.

She picked up her phone again — no more messages yet — and put it into her pocket. She left her room and trotted downstairs to go and make herself a drink; she felt like she hadn't drunk anything all evening, and her throat was parched.

Her mother was downstairs watching television.

"Are you all right?" she asked as Sian darted past, trying to avoid being noticed.

"Yes," said Sian.

"What are you doing?" her mother called from the other room.

"Just getting a drink," Sian called back.

"Use the juice that's in the door, please," said her mother. "It needs using up."

Sian obliged, and filled a tall glass with the orange juice, giving it a sniff before she took a sip just to make sure. It smelled fine, and there was only a tiny drop left in the carton now she'd filled her glass; checking to see no-one else was around — her mother hated it when people drank straight from the bottle or carton — she swigged the last of it, then tossed it in the bin. Then she headed back for her room.

"Do you want anything else?" called her mother as she passed.

"No, Mum, I'm fine," said Sian, a little more bluntly than she intended. Her mother didn't respond. She paused on the stairs for a moment, then continued her way back up to her room.

As she crossed the threshold of her room, with perfect timing her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was Kristina.

Well, said the message, sent in response to a query Sian had sent earlier. She wouldn't tell me exactly what happened. But it sounded like she had a date that went badly. Her date tried to hurt her. It's so weird, because she always said the two of them had gotten along so well.

Hurt her? probed Sian. What, did he hit her or something? She instantly knew that wasn't what Kristina had meant, and regretted asking such a silly question.

No, came the reply. I probably shouldn't be talking to you about this sort of thing, but hell, I probably shouldn't be talking to you at all. He tried to… you know. When she didn't want to.

Sian looked at the screen in horror. The idea of someone being subjected to a crime like that was difficult for her to process; she and her family had always lived in reasonably well-off areas in which the most unpleasant things that happened involved having more than one door-to-door salesman in a day, and so she'd always considered most crimes to be vague, amorphous concepts that never really actually happened. Although she didn't know Kristina's friend, she felt somehow attached to her; and the prospect of her being assaulted in such a way was utterly horrifying and frightening.

OMG, wrote Sian. I'm so sorry to hear that. She didn't really know what else to say, so she sent the message as is.

I'm so sorry, came the reply from Kristina a moment later. It was completely inappropriate for me to share that with you. Let's talk about something else.

It's okay, said Sian. It was just a shock.

*  *  *  *

It was lunchtime, and both Jasmine and Nicola had been given detention for talking too much in their science lesson earlier in the day, so Sian was at a loose end. She had other friends, of course, but tended to default to hanging out with Jasmine and Nicola, since they were her closest friends.

She often wondered why, as their characters were so very different to hers, but she certainly didn't begrudge them their friendship. She was grateful for it, in fact; she often felt strangely detached from the rest of her peers, so to have a reliable pair of friends who didn't seem to mind her being around too much was something she welcomed very much.

She wandered out of the doors and into the school grounds. It was chilly outside, and the wind was blowing, making it feel even colder. She buttoned up her coat and pulled up her hood, then started walking. She didn't have a particular destination in mind; she just wanted to walk. The air, while cold and uncomfortable, was invigorating, and she was enjoying the sensation of just the front of her face being buffeted by the breeze while the rest of her head remained toasty warm.

Most of her peers had elected to stay inside due to the weather, so it was fairly quiet outside, though she could hear the crowd of boys who always played football every lunchtime whatever the weather doing their thing off in the distance. They always sounded like they were enjoying themselves; shouting and screaming like children much younger than they really were. Sian envied them a little; she had forgotten what it was like to be a "child".

As she rounded the corner of the school and came up on the school's bike sheds, she noticed a lone figure perched on the wall, staring at its shoes. As she got a little closer, she recognised it as Edward, sitting out in the cold without a jacket. She hesitated for a moment and just watched him, but he didn't seem to be going anywhere; the only sign of life was when he occasionally kicked his feet at the floor, but he didn't look up.

Sian felt suddenly curious, though at the same time a little afraid. Despite her misgivings, she approached Edward and sat down next to him. She removed her hood and looked at him. He didn't look up.

"Hey, Edward," she said in a soft voice. "Are you all right?"

"Uh-huh," he said. He didn't elaborate, and he didn't look all right.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked.

"No," he muttered.

There was an awkward silence between the two of them for a moment.

"What are you doing?" asked Sian.

"Just thinking," he said.

"What about?" asked Sian.

There was another pause, and finally he lifted his head and turned to face her.

"What do you care?" he asked.

"I'm just curious," said Sian. "You looked… I don't know, a bit sad."

"I'm not sad," he said, aggressively. "I'm just thinking."

"Okay," said Sian, recognising that she probably shouldn't continue down this line of enquiry.

Silence fell again. A cheer echoed across the school grounds; one of the footballers had evidently just scored.

"Everyone hates me," said Edward after a moment, unprompted.

"I'm sure that's not true," she said.

"Everyone hates me," he repeated. "And I don't blame them. I hate me, too."

"Edward," said Sian, trailing off. She wasn't quite sure what to say next.

"I can't help myself," he continued. "I just… can't control it. And it ruins things. I fucked everything up with that music teacher."

"Miss Charles?" asked Sian. "What happened?"

Edward sighed.

"She was being nice to me," he said. "She was helping me, and then I just… I got so angry. I got so mad. I scared her. I feel like shit."

Things started to click into place for Sian.

"If you feel bad, you should say you're sorry," said Sian. "I'm sure she'd like that."

"No," said Edward. "She won't want to come anywhere near me now. I fucked it up." He sounded like he was starting to get a little angry and frustrated; Sian felt she should tread carefully, and perhaps change the subject.

"Do you know what makes you feel upset?" asked Sian tentatively.

"I don't feel upset," he said through gritted teeth. "I feel angry."

"Okay," said Sian. "What makes you feel angry?"

"I don't know," said Edward. "It just… happens. Things pop into my mind, and they just make me… explode."

"What sort of things?" asked Sian.

"I… don't want to talk about it," he said. "You'll laugh."

"No," said Sian. "I won't."

"No!" he said. "I'm not talking about this!"

He stood up, and for a moment Sian felt a flash of fear. But he wasn't lunging for her or attacking her; he was just standing up.

He started to walk away in the direction of the school's back gate. Sian had a feeling he wouldn't be coming back for afternoon classes.

After a few steps, he paused, turned and looked over his shoulder.

"Sorry," he said. "And thanks. People don't normally talk to me."

Before Sian could respond, he was walking away at a brisk pace. She just stared after him.

In the distance, the footballers roared again. Another goal.