“Because there ain’t too many jobs out there that pay as well as this. And, to be totally honest, I enjoy it. I know it ain’t the most glamorous job in the world, but Fanny is good to me, Suvi looks after me, and taking money from stupid fuckers is even more fun than spending it.”
“Maybe I’m in the wrong job,” said Danny.
“Well, you’ve definitely got the moves, but I don’t know how you’d look in a thong.”
“Then cherish that fact,” said Danny.
“Too late,” said Krystal, her lip curling. “I’ve already got mental images.”
“How do I look?”
“Like my old landlord.”
“Ouch,” said Danny.
Krystal laughed. “Come on,” she said, standing. “Let’s get back to it. I need to dance this thought out of my head.”
CHAPTER 26
Mr. Coleman picked a paper airplane off the classroom floor and screwed it into a ball.
“How is it,” he said, throwing the defunct aircraft into the bin, “that man has managed to climb to the peak of Mount Everest, he’s located the source of the Nile, he’s trekked to both the North and South Poles, and he’s circumnavigated the globe in a hot-air balloon, yet you lot still haven’t figured out how to find your chairs without a map and compass?”
“How is this going to help me find my seat?” said one pupil, brandishing a maths compass. Everybody laughed.
“Just aim it at your desk and follow the pointy end,” said Mr. Coleman.
“Look, Mr. C,” said another student. He showed Mr. Coleman his iPhone. The boy had typed my chair into Google Maps. “No results,” he said.
Mr. Coleman took the phone and typed Wilson’s brain into the search bar.
“What a surprise,” he said, returning the phone to Wilson. “No results there either. Come on, everybody, in your seats, now. The last person to sit down has to eat their lunch with me.”
The classroom erupted in a flurry of movement as children scrambled to find their seats.
“I’m glad to see you’re so eager to learn all of a sudden!” said Mr. Coleman.
He sat behind his desk and opened his glasses case.
“Atkins?” he said, hunching over the register.
“Present,” said Atkins.
“Cartwright?”
“Here. I mean present.”
“Jindal?”
“Present.”
“Kabiga?”
“Present.”
“Malooley?” Mr. Coleman glanced at Will and placed a tick beside his name.
“Present,” said Will.
“Moorhouse?”
Moorhouse didn’t answer, and Mr. Coleman didn’t ask a second time. He stared at the register, his brow creased as if trying to remember whether he’d fed the cat that morning. Slowly removing his glasses, he looked up at the class. Every head in the room was turned towards Will, and even Mr. Coleman couldn’t stop himself from staring.
“Will?” he said.
Will smiled. “I’m still present,” he said as the rest of the class, especially Mo, continued to stare at him in disbelief.
Mr. Coleman nodded, too stunned to say anything. Then clumsily putting his glasses back on, he cleared his throat and returned to the register.
“Er… Saltwell?”
* * *
“Okay, people!” yelled Mo, taking over crowd control and ushering everybody back so Will could emerge from the corner he’d been backed into. “Give the boy some space!”
“Say something!” shouted one of the kids from the jostling crowd. Word about Will had spread around school, and now everybody had gathered to see if the rumors were true.
“Something,” said Will. They all laughed.
“Say something else!” shouted another.
“Something else,” said Will to more fits of giggles.
“Say ‘She sells seashells on the seashore!’ ” shouted a girl from somewhere in the crowd.
“She sells seashells on the seashore,” said Will.
“Say ‘Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!’ ” shouted someone else.
“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” said Will.
“Say ‘Heˇn ga¯oxìng jiàn dào nıˇ,’ ” said Gan, a Chinese boy from the year below.
Will laughed. “I can’t say that,” he said.
“Say ‘My name’s Will and I love attention because I’m a massive fucking loser with no friends,’ ” said Mark as he barged in with Gavin and Tony in tow.
“Leave him alone, Mark,” said Mo as a nervous ripple spread through the crowd.
“Shut it, Mo. Little Willy here can speak for himself like a big boy now, can’t you, Willy?”
Will said nothing, the urge to speak suddenly gone.
“Say it,” said Mark. Will shook his head. Mark grabbed him by the collar and put his face so close to Will’s that flecks of spit landed on his cheek.
“Say it!” he said.
Will sighed. “My name’s Will and I love attention,” he mumbled.
“Because?”
“Because I’m a massive loser with no friends.”
“Did you hear that, fellas?” said Mark, turning to Gavin and Tony.
“Nope,” said Gavin.
“Not loud enough,” said Tony.
Mark grinned. “Say it again so everybody can hear,” he said.
“My name’s Will and I love attention because I’m a massive loser with no friends!” said Will, louder this time.
“Louder!”
“My name’s Will and I love attention because I’m a massive loser with no friends!” yelled Will.
“And don’t forget it,” said Mark. He leaned in close and lowered his voice, but the anger remained. “You think you’re so special just because your mum died? Boo-fucking-hoo. My dad died two years ago, but you don’t see me acting like a baby, do you? You don’t see me trying to get attention because of it like some fucking loser. So why don’t you stop embarrassing yourself and grow up instead of being such a pussy.” Mark let go of Will’s collar and shoved him against the wall. “Come on, lads.”
Gavin and Tony followed him through the crowd that had parted for them. Realizing the fun was over, everybody else began to shuffle away until only Will and Mo remained.
“I didn’t even know he had a dad,” said Mo. “I thought he was grown in a lab or something.”
Will wiped the spit from his cheek and stared at Mark across the schoolyard.
* * *
Danny arrived at the gates just as the school bell rang. The main doors opened and the kids came racing out as if fleeing the scene of a crime, which some of them probably were.
With the competition less than a week away, Danny had skipped his session in the park in exchange for more time to practice at Fanny’s. He now knew every part of his routine by heart, and even though he still hadn’t mastered all of it, or half of it, or even a small percentage of it, he was at least able to dance his way through it from start to finish.