The 8th

“I know you haven’t,” I said. “But this isn’t all about me.” I turned to look at the seven stood behind me; David, Lindsey, Elizabeth, Marcus, Samantha, Kate, Helen…They all look to be enjoying my little floor show. I turned back to Chloe…Sitting there, looking pretty with her short, dark hair and her big brown eyes, carefully applied make-up used to enhance her looks as opposed to hide them behind an unnecessary layer of slap. Looking into her eyes, she already looked as though she were going to start crying. Pathetic. You’d have thought people who were nasty to other people…You’d have thought it would have been harder to break them but this is proving fairly easy. “Come to the front of the class,” I instructed her. “Let’s have a chat.”

Reluctantly Chloe stood up. She gave a glance in the direction of her friends. No doubt she was hoping one of them would step forward and offer her some assistance. Not a chance. They didn’t want to get involved. They didn’t want the spotlight turned onto them. Chloe stood a few feet away from me. I had never really noticed before how skinny she was. I wonder if she was naturally that skinny or whether she was one of these girls who’d eat a meal just to sick it back up in the toilet when they thought no one was looking?

“Lindsey…” All I did was say a girl’s name and Chloe started to cry. She knew where this was going. “Do you want to tell the class what you did to Lindsey?” Chloe shook her head. “Oh, come on now…Don’t be shy…Would you rather we asked Lindsey?”

“Please stop it.”

They all say the same thing. It’s getting tiresome. I’m not going to stop, just as they didn’t either when they were asked. Fair is fair, after all.

“You look nervous. Don’t be. We’re all friends, aren’t we? Here…I got you something…” I reached into my rucksack, which I had left by the table at the front of the class, and pulled out a tupperware box. I pulled the lid off and showed Chloe the contents. “Chocolate cake…”

“I don’t want any.”

“Of course you do, don’t be ungrateful. I got one for you and one for your friend Lindsey…You know she likes cakes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? You’ve done nothing to be sorry for…Have you? Have I missed something?” I hadn’t missed anything. I knew what Chloe had done. She would spend her time, with her friends from the year above, following Lindsey around taunting her because of her weight. Lindsey being one of the school’s larger pupils. I’m not sure if it was because she over-ate or some genetic thing which made her so. It wasn’t important. The consequences of their words always had the same ending; Lindsey would cry herself to sleep, sometimes cutting herself before she climbed into her bed.

“We need to get Ben some help,” said Mrs Price. She wasn’t watching Chloe and I. Her eyes were fixed on Ben. He looked pale, there was no denying that. “He’s dying…”

“I’m talking to my friend. Please don’t interrupt me again,” I said. I turned back to Chloe and handed her a cake. “Eat it.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You can eat it willingly or I can feed you. I don’t mind which.”

She looked back to her friends. None of them made a move to help her. Slowly she took the cake from me and looked at it.

“It looks good, doesn’t it?” I asked. “I made it myself.”

“Please, I’m not hungry.”

“Of course you are. Look at it! How can that not make you hungry?”

The cake did look good. Chocolate sponge covered in chocolate icing. I would have eaten it myself. Had I not put in the little extra ingredient. Chloe moved the cake closer to her mouth. Slowly her mouth opened. It must be watering in there. How could it not? The cake looks amazing. I should set up a little shop. Start selling them. I could make a fortune.

9

I was sitting with David, in the cinema, waiting for the film to start. He paid; some chick flick he had wanted to see. I should have known when he invited me to a film that it wouldn’t have been a typical horror for boys to enjoy. Ah well, I couldn’t grumble; it was still better than being in class, I suppose. Just.

“So how would you teach them a lesson?” I asked him.

“Not really thought about it.”

“Really?”

“Okay, I’d make them kiss each other,” he said, a split second later.

“What?”

“Piers and his friends…In front of the whole class…I’d make them kiss each other. That way they couldn’t call me gay anymore.”

“They couldn’t?”

“Of course not…” The lights dimmed and the screen flickered into life. David whispered to me, “If everyone has seen them kiss…They’d hardly be in a position to carry on calling me gay!” I didn’t answer him. I suppose, all being said and done, he had a point.

“How’d you make them kiss?” I asked.

He shrugged, “I don’t know…Wave a gun in their face?”

I laughed, “You have thought about this, haven’t you?”

“Lots,” he answered immediately. “Want some of my popcorn?” He tipped his large tub of popcorn towards me.

I shook my head, “No thanks. Hate popcorn. It tastes like shit.”