The Summer We All Ran Away (19 page)

now U no

WHAT? priss talk to me pls

fuck IDK what to say! dont no if I even believe U

Y not? its just my legs that dont work U no. fingers n brain R

all thats fkn needed 4 MSN

fuck off didnt mean that

well what then

in RL U never spk U hardly fkn move. online UR funny clever charming rude sarky. if UR rly mark then UR nothing like UR

in RL

U never bothered 2 spk to me in RL

yeah well U never bothered 2 spk 2 me U fkn wanker! weve been at skl 2gthr all fkn yr! Y not just talk 2 me? Y the fkn online act?

cos skl is den of sodomy OK? i.e. skl =shithole in case U have 4gotten. fkn animals obsessed w sex no chance 2 just B frnds U no wot hpns if boyz try 2B frnds w grlz? well? do U?

well?

ha. run rings round you logically

oh fkn hell

what? WHAT? come on elvisgirl. talk 2 me

UR rite wldnt work wld it? BUT STILL FKN PISSED OFF

WITH U, U cld hv said sumthin earlier!

was scared

??? Ed UR never scared

online am not scared. online am not crip-boy in wheelchair ed we R FRIENDS. UR scared 'cos U thk I give a fuck abt wheelchair?

every 1 has reaction to wheelchair. EVERY1

yeah well here is my reaction. U ready? NEEDING FKN WHEELS TO GET AROUND DOES NOT GET U OFF HOOK FOR FKN WANKER STALKER BHVR. capisce?

was not fkn stalking U!

YY U fkn were. still not convinced UR even telling truth TBH
.

shit Im shaking

shock. go get cup of tea

cant. dad downstairs getting drunk. if I go down he'll hit me

srsly? shit priss. wish I cld help

UR no fkn use UR in wheelchair J

RU laffing at me?

fkn rite

so we R still friends?

DK. still thinking

does it hurt?

LO fkn L ed

mark

mark. sounds weird. mark asher. UR mark asher. I sit next 2U

in english FFS

U wr awesome 2day

U wr silent 2day. Y U never spk up? UR most interesting person in class

ed is interesting not me L

but Ed is U. ED IS U. no still sounds fkn weird. U srs? UR rly

mark asher?

swear

OK, UR fkn wanker stalker arsehole

???

just following orders J prove it

prove wot?

prove UR ed

now?

next lesson

wot U want me 2 do?

shit

what?

BRB

priss?

U still there?

got 2 go

whats happening

just family stuff. dad is

dad is what?

doesnt matter will sort

priss be safe OK? be safe. pls

sez the psycho fkn stalker who sat next 2 me in English for 6

mths n never said a fkn word J J J CU tomoro

Elvisgirl has signed off

“Class, settle
down!”
Mr Jones shouted, uncharacteristically loud and rapped hard on the desk. “What's the matter with you all today?” He caught Katie's eye. “Has
everyone
got their periods or something?”

An uncomfortable laugh, his usually reliable humour off key this time, everything slightly off balance. There's a strange dynamic in the room. Everyone sensing something different and no-one clear on what or why. Priss was hunched in her seat, chewing furiously on her fingernails, her make-up like a Venetian mask.

“So,” he said. “Who's been reading what this week?”

A safe question, a reliable one, reliable answers expected from the usual suspects. Same hands going up: Courtney, Page, Jancey, Tyrone, Jamie. Priss hanging back, as always, waiting for the daft answers to get out of the way first, but he knew she'd have something to say. A new hand, something unexpected -

“Mark,” he said, slightly taken aback. Mark's written work was solid, occasionally illustrated with sly doodles of his classmates in the margins, but he never spoke up without prompting.

“Okay. What have you been reading?”

In the background, Tyler stuck his tongue in his lower lip and made the spaz noise. Mr Jones frowned. Tyler made the noise again, slightly louder.

“A novel, sir,” said Mark.

“Okay. Which one?”

Tyler made the noise again. Mark flinched, but kept facing forward. Mr Jones got wearily to his feet, but before he could reach Tyler's desk, Priss exploded out of her seat and shot across the room, hair flying, eyes flashing.

Priss had Tyler by his collar. He was a big lad, easily six foot and heavy with it, a slab of muscle, testosterone, fat and stupidity, but he quailed before the look in Priss' eyes.

“If you fuckin'
ever
make that noise again,” she hissed. “If you
ever
take the piss out of Mark like that - ”

“Yeah?” Tyler sneered, remembering himself.

Mr Jones was striding down between the desks, ready to take over.

Priss smiled sweetly, and put her raspberry-red mouth against Tyler's ear. She whispered something. Tyler's eyes bulged.

“I mean it,” she said. “You got it, fat-boy? And don't even
think
about trying to get back at me, I know what you fuckin' did to Jade, don't try that with me or - ”

“Priss, stop that right now!” Mr Jones roared. Priss let go of Tyler's collar and he sank back into his seat.

Mr Jones thought quickly. “Both of you out of here now,” he said. “Headmaster's office. Go on.”

“Why are you sending Priss out?” demanded Katie. “She was sticking up for Mark, Sir, it's not fair.”

A chorus of agreement erupted from the girls. Mr Jones waved an ineffectual hand for silence.

“Be quiet! Go on. The pair of you. And you'd better both arrive there. Okay? Now move!”

They were forbidden to hit or even to touch the pupils, but crowding them into movement by invading their personal space was allowed, and Mr Jones used it now. Tyler shrugged and climbed out of his seat. Priss began to retreat down the aisle, but her attention was somewhere else. She was watching Mark.

“What was the book?” Priss demanded, her eyes fixed on him.

“You didn't need to do that!” Mark was pale with anger. “I don't need you to fight my battles for me!”

“Fuck off, you twat, I fuckin' did. What was the
book?”

“Priscilla, you will
not
use that language in my classroom, you're already in enough trouble - ”

“Just tell me what book you read!”

He nearly had them herded through the doorway now, but Priss was still staring at Mark. The classroom was in uproar. Mark had to shout over the noise.

“It was
Peyton Place!”

“For God's sake!” Mr Jones finally had them outside in the corridor, and closed the door on the mayhem within. “Tyler, off you go. Priss, what's got into you?”

“Sorry, sir.” She was looking demurely downwards, but couldn't hide the fact that she was grinning from ear to ear.

“I don't want you to apologise, I want you to explain. What was that all about?”

“Sir, you heard Tyler making that fuckin' mong noise. It's not on.”

There was something else, he knew, but he didn't have time to get to the bottom of it now. Christ only knew what
they were doing in that classroom without him.

“It's my job to keep discipline in the classroom, Priscilla, not yours, and I won't have you physically attacking other students. Now go to the headmaster.”

RU there ed?

cum on I no UR. uve got ‘appear offline' on & UR hiding

talk 2 me U wnkr

pls

wot U wan2 talk abt?

why RU hiding?

cos I DONT NEED U TO FIGHT MY BATTLES priss

wot was I spsd 2 do? just sit there n let him get away w it?

YY U were! my fight. not yrs. get it? want yr FRIENDSHIP
.

not yr pity

look wasn't fkn abt U OK?

???

realised last nite Ive never hrd U spk. U don't spk cos wen U open yr mth the boys all make fkn noises. thats not rite. U cld be best frnd or worst NME, still not rite. shld hv dun it mths ago. cant sit on arse & listen 2 that shit & still think of self as human being K

ed?

OK thats quite sweet actually

fuck off Ed am not sweet

YY UR. but dont eva fight my war 4me again. dont need it. hv

own weapons

Yr wheels R loaded?

LOL am hiding lite under bushel. 1 day will burst out into full

brilliance. lk U

am not hiding

YY UR. so do U believe who i am now?

OK yeah. i admit it. UR mark asher

J wot did U say 2 tyler?

sed id tell every1 wot i saw him doing last term

so?

he wuz havin wank in woods

!!! OMG teenage boy has wank!!! call out vice police!!! Y he

care?

was havin it 2 beefcake in mens health

tyler = gay?

must be

huh. feel better about U havin go @ him now I no U got

summat good 2 keep him away

can look after self U no

yeah well so can I. U still showed up 4 me J

so now what?

i got killer idea 4 graphic novel. can draw pics. need writer

U srs?

fkn rite Im srs J so wan2 meet IRL?

“Who is it, Mark - oh, hello, Priscilla.” Mrs Asher looked dubiously at the girl in the hallway, a puzzling contradiction and therefore a threat; layers of black clothing, glimpses of pale skin, an abundance of cheap silver jewellery, and the face of Botticelli's Flora.

“Hello, Mrs Asher.” An accent far stronger than either hers or her son's, the marker of lower-class roots and a poor education. No, that was unfair. Priss was sweet, nice-mannered, she'd been here eight or nine times now and had only ever been charming. “How's the writing going?”

“Fine, thank you. We've nearly finished the storyboards.”

She'd been unable to trace the origins of this friendship, blazing suddenly into life after years of splendid isolation. Priss was too beautiful, that was the trouble, too beautiful, and too female. A nerdy boy with glasses, a geeky, sexless girl, these she could have understood, but not Priss, he was amazing, her son, but to the outside world -

“We're going to my room, okay, mum?” The chair turned, began to roll down the corridor.

“Okay, darling, have fun.”
Have fun?
God, she was getting so
middle aged
. Neither Priss nor Mark giggled, which was some small consolation.

“I've done some sketches,” said Mark, rummaging in a large black portfolio case. “For the first chapter.” His dark eyes were shining, his movements quick and assured. In the school environment he kept still, made no eye contact, left no signs of his passing; but in his room, he sprang into vivid life. When their fingers touched, Priss felt a tingle.

They spread the pictures on the low, wide bed and studied them for a long time, sitting at ninety degrees to each other. Priss was awkwardly tall in the chair Mark's mother had brought in from the dining room. In the background, Jack Laker's
Violet Hour
wove subtle melodic magic out of the air.

“Are those for the scene at the docks?” she asked at last.

“Yeah.”

“I like the angles.”

“The
angles?”

“Yeah. The way the shadows all point down to that one spot where they're stood.”

“Hey, so they do. That's actually pretty good, isn't it?”

“You didn't do that on purpose?”

He shrugged. “Did you mean that whole section in the city to be a weird riff on Red Riding Hood?”

“No, but - ”

“I reckon that's how you know something's really good,” said Mark. “When you go back to what you drew or wrote or whatever and spot all this stuff you hadn't even noticed you were putting in, 'cos you were so into it at the time.”

“This
is
really fuckin' good, isn't it,” said Priss. “I mean, I know we're just kids, but - ”

“Forget that
we're just kids
crap,” said Mark fiercely. “When we send this in, no-one's going to know. They'll just
see our work. We'll submit under fake names and we won't own up until we've got the deal. Okay?”

Priss laughed. “You're so fucking arrogant, you know that? It's not like they'll recognise our names, is it?”

“You've got to think about this stuff.”

“If you say so.” She yawned, stood up, and stretched, as pretty and unselfconscious as a little cat.

“Am I keeping you up?” asked Mark.

“You are actually,” Priss murmured, yawning again. “I was up half the night, I'm about ready to fuckin' drop. I hope you're grateful.”

“What kept you up?”

She stared at him blandly.

“Why won't you ever talk to me about your dad?”

“Why won't you ever talk to me about yours?”

“Look, I'm not going to laugh, you know.”

“Yeah, you're damn right you won't laugh, 'cos it's not fuckin' funny. And also I'm not telling you, alright?”

“Why not?”