ours.
‘Why are people so stupid?’ Tom mutters. I shrug. I’m only half-here anyway, the rest of me still reliving Clara calling me her boyfriend, and mostly I’m trying to keep a big, fat, smug grin off my face.
‘Just forget about it and do something else. Watch a film or something.’
‘I might hang in the music room.’ He says this casually, but I know he’s going because Clara is in there. I have to bite my tongue to stop myself blurting out that he’s wasting his time because she’s my girlfriend.
‘You’re going to sleep, I s’pose,’ Will says.
‘Dunno,’ I say. For once, I don’t feel tired. I should be, but I’m not. It’s all I can do to stop my foot tapping with all the energy bubbling through me. ‘Why?’
‘We found an old board game yesterday. Called Escape from Colditz . It’s really good.’
‘Never heard of it.’ I only ever played board games at Christmas before and even then only when Gran came to visit.
‘It’s fun, but would be better with more than just two of us playing.’ They both stare at me but I can see they’re not holding out much hope.
‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Go on, then.’ Why not? Otherwise I’ll just lie on my bed and count the interminable hours before everyone else is asleep and me and Clara can be together again. Just thinking that makes me feel like a twat but I can’t help it. At least this will make the time pass more quickly.
As it goes, it’s not such a bad game and Louis and Will make me laugh, and before we know it, it’s teatime. Will scours the room for the nurse, but she’s not at the food station tonight. She was there this morning and he’d smiled at her as he got toast and was convinced she’d given him a wink back. I don’t know if she did or not, but as long as Will believed it, who cares? He’s young. He misses his mum. He’s the only one of us who’s come right out and admitted that ever since Henry got sick back at the beginning. Henry has put us all off talking about our mums. Not after all that terrible calling-out.
Apart from the flash of dread it causes, I can’t really remember much in detail about what happened with Henry. It feels like a long time ago even though it’s only been weeks. I think maybe they upped whatever they put in our drinks in the aftermath. I bet the next morning, after breakfast, we were all pretty much tranquillised off our tits. I sometimes wonder why they don’t just get us high and keep us that way. Maybe they are studying us like lab rats. The chosen few. The rare Defectives. Throwbacks from a terrible time that nearly broke the world.
These thoughts normally send me spinning into a quiet, terrible panic – fear of the waiting dark nothingness, of the sanatorium, the changing , of the certainty of non-existence that’s waiting for me – but this time it doesn’t. Weirdly, I just want to laugh. They’re not watching very hard. They don’t know about me and Clara and Georgie. It’s like we’ve escaped them. I’m alive and happy and that’s all that counts.
Ashley looks smug at bedtime and he has good reason to be. Although I’d kept to my normal routine and had a long bath after tea, Louis and Will were quick to tell me how much quieter the playroom had been for the film.
‘I hear there’s a kid in Dorm Three getting sick,’ Tom growls as Ashley carefully folds his towel over the back of his allocated chair. ‘You going to cure him, too, Jesus?’
‘Don’t call me that. It’s disrespectful.’ He doesn’t even look at Tom. ‘Anyway, I didn’t say I’d cured him. I just said he’d got better.’
‘It’s only disrespectful if you believe in it,’ Louis mutters. He’s half-listening and half-reading over Will’s shoulder.
‘But I bet you’re not telling your followers it wasn’t a miracle.’ Tom’s eyes are dark. It’s normally me who gets angry at this shit, but Tom is way ahead of me this time.
‘I’m not telling them it is , either.’
‘He
‘Why are people so stupid?’ Tom mutters. I shrug. I’m only half-here anyway, the rest of me still reliving Clara calling me her boyfriend, and mostly I’m trying to keep a big, fat, smug grin off my face.
‘Just forget about it and do something else. Watch a film or something.’
‘I might hang in the music room.’ He says this casually, but I know he’s going because Clara is in there. I have to bite my tongue to stop myself blurting out that he’s wasting his time because she’s my girlfriend.
‘You’re going to sleep, I s’pose,’ Will says.
‘Dunno,’ I say. For once, I don’t feel tired. I should be, but I’m not. It’s all I can do to stop my foot tapping with all the energy bubbling through me. ‘Why?’
‘We found an old board game yesterday. Called Escape from Colditz . It’s really good.’
‘Never heard of it.’ I only ever played board games at Christmas before and even then only when Gran came to visit.
‘It’s fun, but would be better with more than just two of us playing.’ They both stare at me but I can see they’re not holding out much hope.
‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Go on, then.’ Why not? Otherwise I’ll just lie on my bed and count the interminable hours before everyone else is asleep and me and Clara can be together again. Just thinking that makes me feel like a twat but I can’t help it. At least this will make the time pass more quickly.
As it goes, it’s not such a bad game and Louis and Will make me laugh, and before we know it, it’s teatime. Will scours the room for the nurse, but she’s not at the food station tonight. She was there this morning and he’d smiled at her as he got toast and was convinced she’d given him a wink back. I don’t know if she did or not, but as long as Will believed it, who cares? He’s young. He misses his mum. He’s the only one of us who’s come right out and admitted that ever since Henry got sick back at the beginning. Henry has put us all off talking about our mums. Not after all that terrible calling-out.
Apart from the flash of dread it causes, I can’t really remember much in detail about what happened with Henry. It feels like a long time ago even though it’s only been weeks. I think maybe they upped whatever they put in our drinks in the aftermath. I bet the next morning, after breakfast, we were all pretty much tranquillised off our tits. I sometimes wonder why they don’t just get us high and keep us that way. Maybe they are studying us like lab rats. The chosen few. The rare Defectives. Throwbacks from a terrible time that nearly broke the world.
These thoughts normally send me spinning into a quiet, terrible panic – fear of the waiting dark nothingness, of the sanatorium, the changing , of the certainty of non-existence that’s waiting for me – but this time it doesn’t. Weirdly, I just want to laugh. They’re not watching very hard. They don’t know about me and Clara and Georgie. It’s like we’ve escaped them. I’m alive and happy and that’s all that counts.
Ashley looks smug at bedtime and he has good reason to be. Although I’d kept to my normal routine and had a long bath after tea, Louis and Will were quick to tell me how much quieter the playroom had been for the film.
‘I hear there’s a kid in Dorm Three getting sick,’ Tom growls as Ashley carefully folds his towel over the back of his allocated chair. ‘You going to cure him, too, Jesus?’
‘Don’t call me that. It’s disrespectful.’ He doesn’t even look at Tom. ‘Anyway, I didn’t say I’d cured him. I just said he’d got better.’
‘It’s only disrespectful if you believe in it,’ Louis mutters. He’s half-listening and half-reading over Will’s shoulder.
‘But I bet you’re not telling your followers it wasn’t a miracle.’ Tom’s eyes are dark. It’s normally me who gets angry at this shit, but Tom is way ahead of me this time.
‘I’m not telling them it is , either.’
‘He
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