Taking Flight by Sheena Wilkinson

you Rory, I suppose, Vic? That leaves me with no one.’
    â€˜We’ll find you a lovely big rugby player,’ I promised. ‘Come on, we’re going to be late.’

Chapter 15
    DECLAN
    Mr Dermott nearly wets himself when I tell him.
    â€˜Anything?’ he asks me as soon as I get in on Thursday. He’s been pouncing on me like this every morning and I’ve just grunted and hurried off.
    But not today. I stop by his desk. ‘Yes, sir.’
    â€˜Really?’ He doesn’t even try to hide his surprise. ‘Well, what’s it to be?’
    â€˜An equestrian centre.’ This is the proper name. I’ve been sneaking a look at this book of Vicky’s in the downstairs loo.
    â€˜A – an equestrian centre ?’
    â€˜Yeah. D’you not know what that is?’
    â€˜Yes, Declan, funnily enough I do know what it is. My daughter has riding lessons. It’s just not the first thing that would have sprung to mind.’ He looks at me. ‘Well, well.’
    â€˜It’s all sorted. Look.’ I scramble round in my pocket. ‘Here’s the number.’
    He takes the bit of paper and smiles at me. ‘Good lad.’
    Only two days of school and then a week off. I know it’ll be hard work at Cam’s – I hate to admit it but Vicky’s right about my muscles – but it’ll be a million times better than school. A whole week with no teachers on my back and no bloody Emmet giving me death looks.
    Everybody’s hyper because of being off next week. Seaneen says she can’t wait.‘What if you have to change their nappies?’ I ask her. It’s English. Psycho Sykes is blethering on about some crap poem.
    She shrugs. ‘Sure I’ve changed our Tiarna and Saoirse’s nappies hundreds of times.’
    â€˜Yuck.’
    â€˜Well, you’ll be shovelling plenty of shite next week, Declan Kelly, from what you’ve told me.’
    â€˜Not wiping their arses. Anyway, horse shite’s different. It’s kind of –’
    â€˜Seaneen Brogan and Declan Kelly, would you like to share your conversation with the class?’
    Seaneen giggles.
    â€˜No, you’re alright,’ I mutter.
    â€˜Please, I insist. Do tell the class what you were telling Seaneen.’
    For a minute I’m so tempted to say we were talking about shite. But I don’t want trouble. Even when Emmett said something the other day about loony bins, I just clenched my fists in my pocket and ignored him. So I go, ‘It was about work experience, Miss.’
    â€˜Huh.’ Psycho’s about the only teacher who doesn’t get all eager about the work experience. Probably thinks no one in this school could ever get a job anyway.
    The bell saves me.
    â€˜Book logs tomorrow,’ Psycho shrieks above the roar.‘And if you don’t bring your own book you’ll have to read one of mine. And write a report on it.’
    Everyone groans. On Fridays you have to bring in a book and read it for the whole lesson. Only a few girls ever remember so the rest of us have to read Psycho’s class library books. They’re all ancient, falling to bits and crap. But there’s books everywhere at Colette’s house. I suppose she wouldn’t mind if I borrowed one. Might nab that horsey one. The Complete Young Rider . Don’t suppose anyone’s that bothered about it or they wouldn’t have left it in the loo. Wouldn’t want anyone here to see it or they’d rip the piss out of me, though it’d be worth it not to have to read Psycho’s books. The Boy’s Book of Spy Stories. The Goalkeeper’s Revenge . What century does Psycho think it is?
    * * *
    My chest squeezes tight as we drive through the gates of the mental. It doesn’t call itself the mental, of course. ‘Mountain View Healthcare Park’, says the big, bright sign at the gates. Yeah, right. It doesn’t seem like three