Chapter 3 (part 3)

Wolvero

 

The day was slow to begin with. I saw Oli in my Spanish class looking like he wished he was somewhere cooler. I had to admit that the languages block was always too warm but a bitter wind was blowing through the school today and even I was a little chilly. He seemed to be sweating a little in his thin white shirt which gave him the appearance of someone with a fever.

Break came and went like the blue sky above as clouds covered the sun. Getting through math and English was hard as usual; letting on that you’re average is hard when you’ve done the work at least three times before in your life. No matter how many schools I’ve been to, the feel of a dull lesson is always the same.

I nearly jumped out of my human skin when the bell signalled lunch break. The quick burst of adrenaline needed to be released somehow so I was grateful that I’d lived long enough to know ways around my strange physiology: I used it to launch out of my seat, into the corridor and down two flights of stairs faster than anybody’s eyes could see. It was great fun!

Once I reached the bottom floor of the tower block, – in less than five seconds -, I could see people start to drift out of classes in pairs and groups. I picked out Kane, who had been having Spanish, talking to Sam and another of the small ones.

You saw Oli? Do you believe me now? All around Kane, the usual chatter had risen to deafening so using “ment” was the easiest form of communication. There’s something about him...

Hey guys! Who’s this about? Regan wanted gossip. No change there then.

This Oliver kid in year 10. Sam sent across a picture of Oli to everyone, showing him with yellow eyes and with wilder hair. Sam’s image recall wasn’t all that good.

Yeah, that’s not quite what he looks like Sam, Kane noted. But that’s him.

Regan’s mind sparked a little. Hey Wolv, didn’t you...

I partially covered my panic with a silent. Shut up Regan!

He couldn’t ignore that.

Question marks flitted through everyone’s minds but no one commented on my outburst.

I started to walk from where I stood outside the tower block to our table in the courtyard. (For the information of the sixth formers from 13.3, our names ARE on this table so, in your rules, it is ours.)

I sat down and a few other people joined me. Many of our group had gone to their lockers to get food; others were queuing up at the canteen. Jazz sauntered over with a pile of donuts and placed them down on the table. She noticed the confused atmosphere so she used our weird communication to her advantage: to make everyone laugh using her mental awkward turtle.

Once most of us had stopped giggling, we started mentally searching for members of our group. A few others drifted in, including Regan who had gone to his locker to get his lunch.

He immediately opened up with, “I lost the game.”

Joking protests and groans rose from everyone present and we laughed again.  The table split off into two groups; the small ones and the big ones. Simply put, the year 7s and 8s all talk about random kids’ topics such as football and the pain of too much homework. That left to older ones to talk about anything that came to mind: today, everyone was focused on Jazz and her pile of donuts. Though all she could talk about was her new boyfriend which didn’t surprise me.

The End

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