same first school and middle school. Now we’re at the same high school. Except, I guess, soon we won’t be at high school any more. I know where I’ll be next year: back here in the sixth form, doing my A levels. I don’t know what Ash is gonna do. He says he doesn’t want to be at school any more. He hates teachers and being told what to do. To be honest, so do I. Doesn’t everyone? But it’s something you have to do if you want to get a degree, get a decent job and all that stuff. And I want to do that.
But I’m getting away from the point. The point is that me and Ash have always been close. When we were little, we were inseparable. We hung around together in school, swapped stickers and football cards and all that. And then as soon as school was over, we’d go round to each other’s houses to play. It helped that we live so close to each other, but I’m sure we’d have been good friends anyway. We just got on well, without having to try.
When we were in Year Eight, a new kid started at our school. Kurt. His parents had moved to Fayrewood from London. God knows why you’d want to move to Fayrewood from London, but there you go. Anyway, when he started school, everyone thought he was just about the coolest person they’d ever met. He had everything that people wanted. He always had the best trainers, new football shirts, loads of sweets and he had a cool haircut. And he just happened to be the best footballer in our year at school as well. All that stuff sounds so crap now, but back then it meant everything.
It didn’t take long for him to figure everyone out, to work out who else was cool and who wasn’t. And straight away it was obvious that he wanted Ash to be his best friend. So the three of us hung out together for a little bit, maybe a week. But like everyone knows, two’s company and three’s a crowd. And as far as Kurt was concerned, I was the one who was making things crowded. So he started treating me like a joke. And me being me, I didn’t stand up to him, I just let him go right on ahead and make me feel like shit.
It was just little things, like Ash and Kurt would sit next to each other in class so I was on my own. And they’d have all these in-jokes that I was never in on. Which hurt, because it used to be Ash and me that had those in-jokes.
It sounds weird – it sounds kind of gay (which it isn’t) – but I was lost without Ash. I had no one to back me up. I hated it.
But as much as I tried to keep my head down and ignore it, I couldn’t. And one day, it came to a head. It was during a PE lesson. A football lesson. Our teacher, Mr Watson, picked two teams, gave us a ball and left us to it. I was on one side, Ash and Kurt were on the other.
Their side scored first. Kurt tackled someone – I can’t remember who – on the edge of his own area, and then set off on a run. He went past loads of players. He was really showing off, like he always did. On the edge of our box he passed it to Ash, who looked up and passed it first touch back into Kurt’s path. Kurt walloped it and scored. 1–0.
After that, their side scored another one. I think it was Mark W, who played for the school team. And we thought we were in for a real hiding. As the game went on, they went close a couple of times, but they didn’t score again. And my team started to get back into it.
I was playing on the wing. And the ball came out to me. I went tearing up the wing, went past a few players and then cut inside, into the box. And Kurt was in front of me, watching the ball, waiting for the right time to tackle me. I tried a couple of tricks, trying to make him commit himself. But he just watched the ball. Finally, I decided to play the ball past him and run. As I ran, after the ball had gone, Kurt stuck out his leg and brought me down. A clear-cut penalty.
‘Bollocks!’ Kurt said. ‘He dived.’
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to get into an argument with him. I knew I wouldn’t win that. But
Maggie Brendan
Barbara O'Connor
Jan Washburn
Terri Blackstock
Norah Simone
Barry Kemp
G.P. Taylor
Alan Cumyn
Linda Barnes
Lisa Jackson