because her head doesnât stay still for a moment. But apparently she is. Aunty Fern looks over and gives me a big smile. She waves. Thereâs nothing else I can do. I wave back.
As they move towards my bench I can feel the eyes of the school on me. Itâs embarrassing. Itâs like she is a spotlight and I am being dragged into the bright circle of her presence. I know how a rabbit feels, frozen by light.
âHey, Holly,â says Aunty Fern, giving me a hug and completing the full spectrum of embarrassment. âGuess what? Cassieâs just enrolled.â
âHere?â I say. âOh, okay. When does she start?â
âThursday.â
âThatâs great,â I say.
I introduce Amy, who shakes Aunty Fernâs hand and then smiles and gives Cassie this small, apologetic wave.
So much for school being a place I can escape to.
Itâs so unfair. Itâs so unfair I want to cry. Tears prick behind my eyes and I have to steel myself to keep them there. I want to shout, shriek and yell. Hey, why not? When Cassie does it, everyone thinks itâs sweet.
But I just sit and smile and nod. And inside I am a mess.
Cassie
This place is cold. The sun is diluted, but the cool sucks moisture from my skin.
Things are dry here. Skin, faces and smiles. Holly smiles, but it doesnât touch her eyes. It flutters, an injured bird, and dies on her lips. She cannot look at me. Her attention slips and slides.
Suddenly, I feel dry inside as well. It was wrong to come here. But I canât let Mum read my thoughts, or hear my silent words. I am responsible for her happiness.
And unhappiness has a sour taste. It coats my mouth.
Holly
âShe seems nice,â said Amy. Fern and Cassie had gone home.
Holly picked at the rest of the carbonara, but she wasnât hungry anymore.
âWho?â she said.
âCassie. Sweet.â
Holly put the plastic container on the bench. She wasnât sure she could control what was bubbling up inside her. She didnât know if she wanted to.
âAnd just what do you base that on, Amy? Huh? Come on, youâre the scientist. Give me the evidence.â
âHolly â¦â
âNo. You say sheâs sweet. You meet her for about five seconds, she screeches and thrashes around and thatâs âsweetâ. You have no idea what sheâs like, Amy. You canât see inside her. Neither can I, come to that. But at least you donât have to have her living in your house, messing up your life.â
Amyâs eyes were large.
âHol,â she said, âI think youâre overreacting. I only said she seemed nice.â
Holly got to her feet. She wanted to tear something, destroy it. But there was nothing at hand.
âYou know what, Amy?â she yelled. âYou are so full of it. You are crammed full of it. Miss bloody reasonable. Well, you can shove it, Amy. Iâm sick of it.â
Amy bit her lip and turned her eyes back to her book. Holly turned away and stamped off.
5
Holly
It was Friday and Cassieâs second day of school.
Holly couldnât avoid travelling to and from school with her. Fern gave them both a lift. But she was relieved when Cassieâs ISA met her at the car and wheeled her off to the Special Needs staffroom. After that she didnât see much of her during the day, apart from English lessons. Even then, Cassie and her support worker shared a desk at the back of the class, so there was no pressure to socialise. Holly sat at the front. Other than that, it was a matter of quick glimpses during recess and lunch.
It wasnât hard to avoid a wheelchair.
On Friday lunchtime, when the bell signalling the end of morning lessons rang, Holly hurried to the main girlsâ toilet block. It was double maths in the afternoon, a class she rarely enjoyed. Mr Tillyard knew his stuff all right. Sometimes she wondered how his head managed to keep his brain crammed in. The trouble was,
As they move towards my bench I can feel the eyes of the school on me. Itâs embarrassing. Itâs like she is a spotlight and I am being dragged into the bright circle of her presence. I know how a rabbit feels, frozen by light.
âHey, Holly,â says Aunty Fern, giving me a hug and completing the full spectrum of embarrassment. âGuess what? Cassieâs just enrolled.â
âHere?â I say. âOh, okay. When does she start?â
âThursday.â
âThatâs great,â I say.
I introduce Amy, who shakes Aunty Fernâs hand and then smiles and gives Cassie this small, apologetic wave.
So much for school being a place I can escape to.
Itâs so unfair. Itâs so unfair I want to cry. Tears prick behind my eyes and I have to steel myself to keep them there. I want to shout, shriek and yell. Hey, why not? When Cassie does it, everyone thinks itâs sweet.
But I just sit and smile and nod. And inside I am a mess.
Cassie
This place is cold. The sun is diluted, but the cool sucks moisture from my skin.
Things are dry here. Skin, faces and smiles. Holly smiles, but it doesnât touch her eyes. It flutters, an injured bird, and dies on her lips. She cannot look at me. Her attention slips and slides.
Suddenly, I feel dry inside as well. It was wrong to come here. But I canât let Mum read my thoughts, or hear my silent words. I am responsible for her happiness.
And unhappiness has a sour taste. It coats my mouth.
Holly
âShe seems nice,â said Amy. Fern and Cassie had gone home.
Holly picked at the rest of the carbonara, but she wasnât hungry anymore.
âWho?â she said.
âCassie. Sweet.â
Holly put the plastic container on the bench. She wasnât sure she could control what was bubbling up inside her. She didnât know if she wanted to.
âAnd just what do you base that on, Amy? Huh? Come on, youâre the scientist. Give me the evidence.â
âHolly â¦â
âNo. You say sheâs sweet. You meet her for about five seconds, she screeches and thrashes around and thatâs âsweetâ. You have no idea what sheâs like, Amy. You canât see inside her. Neither can I, come to that. But at least you donât have to have her living in your house, messing up your life.â
Amyâs eyes were large.
âHol,â she said, âI think youâre overreacting. I only said she seemed nice.â
Holly got to her feet. She wanted to tear something, destroy it. But there was nothing at hand.
âYou know what, Amy?â she yelled. âYou are so full of it. You are crammed full of it. Miss bloody reasonable. Well, you can shove it, Amy. Iâm sick of it.â
Amy bit her lip and turned her eyes back to her book. Holly turned away and stamped off.
5
Holly
It was Friday and Cassieâs second day of school.
Holly couldnât avoid travelling to and from school with her. Fern gave them both a lift. But she was relieved when Cassieâs ISA met her at the car and wheeled her off to the Special Needs staffroom. After that she didnât see much of her during the day, apart from English lessons. Even then, Cassie and her support worker shared a desk at the back of the class, so there was no pressure to socialise. Holly sat at the front. Other than that, it was a matter of quick glimpses during recess and lunch.
It wasnât hard to avoid a wheelchair.
On Friday lunchtime, when the bell signalling the end of morning lessons rang, Holly hurried to the main girlsâ toilet block. It was double maths in the afternoon, a class she rarely enjoyed. Mr Tillyard knew his stuff all right. Sometimes she wondered how his head managed to keep his brain crammed in. The trouble was,
Similar Books
