With an impatient sniff, Amelia swept past, silver jewellery clanking and black-painted lips pursed. Olivia shook her head in bafflement.
What a weird encounter.
Ivy had said this school was bizarre. It was more than bizarre – it was . . . it was . . .
There’s not even a word for it! Olivia decided.
Blowing out her breath, she pushed forwards to find her locker, weaving through a cluster of skater-boys on the way. Most of them ignored her as if she didn’t even exist, but one of them – a lean, tall blond senior – moved aside politely to let her pass.
‘But come on, dude,’ one of the others said. ‘If you really want to get air, you have to –’
Spreading out his arms, he leaped up, miming skateboarding as his friends applauded. The blond boy shook his head, grinning.
‘No way, bro. Watch and learn. If you want the best way to get air –’
. . . Try breathing in, then out? Olivia thought wryly. She opened her mouth to make the joke.
Then she saw the intent looks on all the boys’ faces, and sighed. She didn’t think any of them would find it funny. As the blond launched into his own high-leaping mime, she turned to the line of lockers, squinting to find her own locker number among all the black paint. As soon as she spotted it, she started working on the combination lock. What was the code again? Three . . . forty-nine . . .
‘That’s it!’ a voice bellowed behind her. Olivia spun around, her breath catching.
A sour-faced teacher in a stiff grey jacket was charging towards the skater-boys, clearing the hallway in his wake. ‘Get off that skateboard this minute, Finn Jorgensen! What have I told you about skating indoors?’
Olivia had to leap out of his way, bumping hard into her new locker. The teacher was so intent on his prey, though, he didn’t even notice.
Finn, Olivia thought. Wasn’t that the name of the skater-boy Sophia had been crushing on? It had to be the tall blond boy in the centre of the group. The teacher was heading straight for him.
‘This time you’ll have detention for . . . for . . . uh . . .’ The teacher stuttered to a halt as he finally reached Finn – whose feet were planted solidly on the ground. There wasn’t a single skateboard in sight. ‘Where did it go?’
‘No worries, Mr Russell,’ Finn said. Shrugging, he stepped back and pointed to the wall of lockers, where a bright blue-and-red skateboard stood safely propped. ‘See?’ he said calmly. ‘Everything’s just like it’s supposed to be. I wouldn’t break the rules.’
‘Well . . .’ Mr Russell’s face reddened. He pulled at his necktie, nearly choking himself. ‘See that you don’t!’ He glowered around the group of boys, patting his collar back into place. ‘I’ll be watching you. All of you!’
With a huff, he spun on one heel and marched off.
Whew, Olivia thought. She let out the breath she’d been holding as she’d hidden by the locker. I’ve never had a teacher go after me like that!
Finn’s friends were obviously fuming. ‘What a jerk,’ the closest boy muttered, glaring after the teacher. ‘He needs a life of his own. Or someone to teach him a lesson.’
Finn was laughing, though, and shaking his head. ‘Poor old Mr Fussell,’ he said. ‘Come on, guys. I feel bad for him. He’s always so disappointed when he can’t get us in trouble.’
‘But what is wrong with him, man?’ Another of Finn’s friends shook his head. ‘Do you think he’s some kind of secret agent for the goth crowd?’
As Olivia rolled her eyes and turned back to her locker, she heard the other skaters chiming in enthusiastically.
‘I bet he is!’
‘Those goths are always out to get us.’
‘I hate them!’
‘Oh . . .’ Finn’s voice was a low mumble. ‘Y’know, not all goths are bad . . .’
Really? Halfway through unloading her bag, Olivia looked up in surprise. This school seemed so divided, it was a pleasure to hear someone talking nicely about another group.
Then she glanced at Finn and realised he wasn’t even looking at his friends. Instead, he was gazing over their heads at . . .
Amelia. The grim Goth-Queen stood surrounded by a group of other goth-girls who might as well have called themselves an Amelia tribute band. Every one of them was dressed like an Amelia-clone in identical black leather jackets and matching earrings, and they clustered around her with adoring expressions.
Amelia wasn’t looking at any of them, though. She was looking straight at Finn . . . and for just a moment, Olivia glimpsed a slight smile playing at Amelia’s black-painted lips.
I wonder if it hurts her face? Olivia thought. It has to be rare that anything cracks that grim expression!
A moment later, Amelia had converted the smile into a scowl . . . but it wasn’t entirely convincing. She might have been trying to look hostile towards Finn, but instead she just looked uncomfortable . . . like there was a stone in her shoe. Or a boy she can’t make herself dislike!
Whoa. Olivia felt as if her own eyeballs were bouncing back and forth like tennis balls over a net as she looked from one to the other and back again. Even now that Amelia had managed to force a scowl, she and Finn were still staring at each other. It was as if they couldn’t look away.
There is some serious crushing going on, Olivia thought. Between the leaders of the two groups who seem to hate each other the most!
Finally, Finn’s glance dropped to the floor, and his shoulders sagged. He laughed, obviously trying to fit back in to his friends’ conversation. ‘Funny,’ he said.