Matthew wasn't in school today. My heart sank as I worried whether he had taken the phone call too literally. Well, to be honest I wasn't going to tell him that I'd fancied him since we met: I was going to tell him that he was barking up the wrong. But the necklace...if he'd gone to that extent, who knows what he would do next...
'Don't worry about it,' Clara tried her best to wave away my fears with her carefree attitude. 'He's probably just wanting to skip a test or something.'
'Hmm. That doesn't sound like Matthew.' I wasn't sure why I was scared, but I couldn't calm myself down. That fire at his old school...Wait. I was going way too far. I couldn't just accuse him of stuff like that! Then again, he was particularly evasive about the fire. And he never mentioned any friends from his old school. The newspapers at the time had said that it was not yet confirmed that a pupil had actually started the fire...no. It couldn't have been. All the same I was getting more anxious about Matthew and less concentrated on my studies. It was Mme Roberts who decided in the end that I had to go home: I fobbed an illness to help me. Now was not the time to conjugate verbs. I had to research, but I couldn't think of anywhere to look. I mean, he was a seventeen year old boy. He didn't have a criminal record...oh God. He had a criminal record, didn't he? No! Stop jumping to conclusions!
It wasn't until that afternoon that I had to leave the house again. Matthew had kindof drifted from my mind again by then: I'd forgotten Tess had some medication from the doctors for her eye infection and because Dad was away (God knows where) I had to pick it up. I stood in the waiting room, grimacing slightly: I wasn't a fan of hospitals. They only reminded me of when I broke my leg when I was thirteen: I was trying to climb the old tree at the bottom of our garden, because Tess' kite had gotten caught in the top branches. They'd kept me in the uncomfortable hospital bed for days...it was a less than pleasant experience. Anyway, I was standing there when I heard it. '...Matthew Way...' I instinctively moved to where I heard this: two doctors were standing in the doorway of one of the offices. I pressed my back against the wall and listened.
'...He seems to have been responding well to the therapy...'
'Yes, I agree. No tendencies after the...fire?' The doctor lowered his voice and I reflexively leaned further in, still making sure I was hidden.
'Well, he doesn't seem to have taken up any...similar activities. But his mind is still...unstable. He is coping in his new school but one false move and he could be tipped over the edge...' I gasped, and ran back to the waiting room before they could see me there. So he had...the fire...
Oh you really know how to find them, don't you Dani?