Extreme! by J A Mawter Page B

public eye fought against her whole Japanese upbringing. In fact, if this was Japan, Mio would seriously consider leaving the school. But, she admonished herself, This is not Japan, and you will stay .
    Mio sat in her History class realising with a pang that this was where all her troubles had begun.
    It was Leks’ turn to do a presentation. As he stood to discuss post-war Vietnam his words from her session came back to haunt her. He’d talked about that computer game Battlefield211 when he’d said, You have to do whatever you can to keep your dog tags but if you knife someone, you get to take theirs.
    Mio’s stomach tumbled. Had Leks been the one to knife her? What if he had taken the dog tags? And what if he still had them, even though he’d denied it? She had to find out. But how?
    When Leks finished his presentation he went to sit down but Mio’s hand was up like a shot.
    ‘You say that for many Vietnamese, poverty is still a problem today?’
    Leks nodded.
    ‘And with money and medical facilities scarce, there has been a growth in post-war cottage industries—the bone dealers you talked about, for example.’
    Leks frowned and shuffled his papers. ‘Yeah.’
    Mio forced herself to smile as she asked, ‘How do these bone dealers know whose human remains they’ve found?’
    ‘Dental records and stuff,’ answered Leks.
    ‘What if there’s no teeth?’ asked Mio. ‘What then?’
    ‘They use dog tags, I guess.’ Leks banged his papers on the desk as if to signal that this was an end to the conversation.
    Mio’s eyes flashed. ‘Ah, dog tags. Like the ones I showed the other day?’
    Leks’ eyes narrowed as he rammed his papers under his arm. ‘Maybe.’
    ‘The ones that were stolen from my locker?’
    Leks strode towards his seat, seething because Mio was being so difficult. But two could play at that game. ‘Maybe…’ he repeated, before plonking himself down, all huff and puff as he led her on.
    Mio knew something was wrong. She scribbled a note and handed it to Darcy. He’s hiding something. And I’m going to find out what .
    Later that day after class she followed Leks to his locker, then waited till he’d removed the lock and opened the door before pouncing. ‘My, my, my. What do we have here?’ she asked, peering inside.
    ‘None of your business,’ said Leks, slamming the door in her face and standing with his back against the locker to block her view.
    ‘Hiding something?’ asked a voice behind Mio. It was Darcy, come to join her.
    ‘No.’
    Darcy stood close, a quarter-smile playing across his face. In a soft voice that Leks had to strain to hear he said, ‘Then you won’t mind proving it to us, would you?’
    If Leks had opened the door and shown them the books and rubbish littering his locker it would have been okay, but he didn’t. He hooked the lock through the metal bar and clicked it, crowing as he pocketed his key and walked away.
    ‘He knows something,’ said Mio.
    ‘How do you know?’ asked Darcy.
    ‘Because there’s something he doesn’t want us to see in his locker.’
    Darcy shrugged. ‘That doesn’t prove anything. Heaps of kids hide stuff in their lockers. Dirty gymclothes. Their school report. Last week’s lunch. Worse.’
    Mio nodded, and gave a reluctant, ‘I guess.’
    Darcy looped his arm through Mio’s and dragged her away. ‘We’re meeting the others beside the sports equipment shed. We need to talk about tonight’s meeting.’
    Mio allowed herself to be propelled along, thankful to be following orders for once.
    When everyone had assembled and was scoffing their morning snacks Darcy began. ‘Mr Lark’s submitted our question for us for question time, so we’ve got a definite spot on the agenda tonight.’
    ‘Great,’ said Clem, picking the sultanas out of her bun and popping them in her mouth.
    ‘What’s question time?’ asked Bryce.
    Darcy gulped a mouthful of banana before continuing. ‘At every meeting they allow thirty minutes for