Read Online Fury by Shirley Marr - Free Book Online

from the old biddies up in reception?”
    Marianne shook her head. “When has stealing been a quality you look for in a friend?”
    “Why can’t you just give her a chance, Mari?” I sighed.
    “Trust me, if I wasn’t trying to give her a chance I would have banned her from hanging out with us from the very beginning.”
    My mouth dropped open. I curled it back into a smile.
    “What did you say?”
    Marianne said nothing.
    “Hang on. It’s not for you to say who this group associates with. You are not, Marianne, the leader of this group.”
    Marianne’s hand shot up and touched her cheek. It glowed red like I had just slapped it. She pushed past me and hurried off again. This time I let her go.
    “Say hi to Neil for me, won’t you?” I called out to her.
    It’s harsh, but it’s true. Marianne is not the leader. I am. I say who stays and who goes. I am the one who holds this group together. I will not let Marianne think that she is the boss of me. She just needs a good kick once in a while as a reminder.
    ***
    The lunch-hall was packed and smelt like feet and rancid cheese. Mrs Wally greeted me inside the kitchen with crossed arms and a face like the centre of Hell.
    “Get out there and start working missy, you are twenty-five minutes late. And lunch is only forty minutes long.”
    “Sorry. I forgot,” I replied, tying the disgusting, smelly apron around me.
    “Don’t think that I’ll forget. I am noting this down for thePrincipal. He will, I’m sure, see that you make this time up.”
    Mrs Wally flashed a particularly nasty grin with her 400-watt chemically whitened teeth.
    “Looks like you will be stuck with me well into next week, huh?”
    I made a face, but I didn’t answer back. As much as I was tempted to say something smart, I valued not having to work here forever a lot more. I winced as Mrs Wally took the gum out of her mouth and stuck it under the kitchen counter.
    “Excuse me. Are you sure this is chicken?”
    I spun around to find Neil pointing to one of the steaming trays in the bainmarie. Thank God, I thought I’d never get away from that hag. I smiled and walked up to him. Neil smiled back. He had big brown eyes like Bambi. So there we were. Separated by steaming glass.
    “I guess so, if that’s what the label says…”
    I looked at the four dishes. They looked identical. I shrugged.
    Neil gave it the benefit of doubt and ladled some onto his plate. It landed with a sickening plop.
    “I’ve never seen you eat canteen food.”
    “Neither have I,” replied Neil.
    He leaned closer to the glass. I found myself doing the same thing.
    “You see, I was going to make myself a sandwich this morning, but then I found we had no ham left. So I thought I would make a cheese sandwich. Except there was no cheeseeither. I couldn’t even make a margarine sandwich ’cos the margarine tub was empty. Then I found we had no bread so I gave up.”
    “Oh.”
    “My dad said he was doing the groceries yesterday. And he must have because I found two bottles of Scotch in the pantry. I guess he must have forgotten to, like, buy food.”
    “How is your dad?”
    “Drunk, I think,” replied Neil.
    I tried to change the subject.
    “Nice tie. Very retro,” I said.
    “Thanks.”
    East Rivermoor is a vanity wonderland. Designer shoes, expensive haircuts, makeup, skin-tight clothes—and that’s just the boys.
    The girls are expected to wear a white dress shirt with a grey skirt and the boys grey trousers and a tie. But we can pimp our outfits any which way we like. I’d gotten my mother’s tailor to shorten all my skirts because I have to admit it, I have a nice pair of legs. Lexi has white Chinese frog buttons sewn on her shirt cuffs, and Marianne slit her sleeves right up to the elbow and put rows of tiny silver buttons all along them. Behind Neil, a whole spectrum of different ties moved through the lunch-hall like a testosterone rainbow. Hollerings doesn’t care as long as you show some pretence