‘I haven’t cheated,’ I tell him. But then I realize that I have. Because Akash’s been helping me.
Mr Butler’s still talking. This is beginning to feel like an ambush. ‘We’re very concerned, especially with the exams so near. We’ll need to investigate further, but Neena is producing work that’s either outstanding or very poor. Not just in art, but in English too.’
What! I stare at Miss Taylor. Now I know that they really are setting me up. Akash definitely hasn’t been helping me with English. He was rubbish at English. Hated writing essays.
‘Like I said, we’re going to need to look at this closely,’ Mr Butler continues. ‘But, at the moment, we want to know how we can help. Is this … like what happened before?’
I don’t dare look at Mum and Dad. But, from the corner of my eye, I can see Mum fanning herself with a piece of paper. The bell for the end of school rings and the corridor is suddenly filled with shouting and cheering as everyone rushes out of lessons. I want to get out of here and join them.
‘There’s been a lot going on,’ Mum says. She’s fanning herself like crazy now. She looks really uncomfortable. ‘Lots of changes …’
‘We do understand,’ Mr Butler says, nodding, and I think I see him looking at Mum’s bump. ‘But what can we do for Neena? We spoke to Fiona – Neena’s friend in Year Twelve. She’s also worried. Could we arrange some counselling perhaps?’
I feel dizzy. ‘Fi?’ I say. I don’t get it. Fi’s involved in all this? Why would she do that? She’s supposed to be someone I can trust.
My hands begin to tremble.
Everyone’s turning against me.
What do they want from me?
What are they trying to DO to me?
I think of Raheela’s smile as I left the classroom. I bet she knew about this too. Trying to trap me as well. My heart slams against my chest. Everyone’s staring at me now. Turning on me. The whole world is turning on me.
‘There is one other option,’ Mr Butler continues, and I try to tune in again. ‘Due to everything Neena’s been through this last year, there might be the possibility of deferring a year.’
It feels like someone’s stamping on my chest. ‘No! I’m not stupid. Why are you picking on me?’
Mum stands up suddenly. She’s shaking. She tugs Dad’s arm. ‘I … I need to go home,’ she says.
Dad looks super concerned. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Please,’ Mum says. She’s beginning to cry now.
I push my chair back and the screech of the legs against the floor pierces the air. A sign that I need to get out of here. Quick. I see Mr Butler get up – he’s saying something to me, which I don’t catch – and then Dad stands up too. I leap for the door before anyone can stop me. Before Mum and Dad reach me. Before they trap me and keep me here forever.
‘Get back here, Neena,’ Dad calls after me, not quite allowing himself to shout in front of the teachers.
But I don’t stop. I almost trip over a chair by the door, which they’ve probably put there on purpose, but I fling it aside and it crashes against the wall.
I need to find Josh. He’s the only one I can trust now. If I find him, I’ll be safe.
I glance over my shoulder to check if anyone’s following me as I charge towards Josh’s house. No one. Nothing. I keep checking until I reach his front door. I need to be careful. Very careful.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
I peer over my shoulder again. Swallow. Breathe. ‘Hurry, hurry. Please,’ I whisper at the door.
The air is hot but I’m shivering. I wrap my arms round myself. Have the teachers followed me? Mum, Dad? Are they watching? Waiting? What will they do if they catch me?
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
The door swings open. A lady … Josh’s mum … Short blonde curls … Lots of bracelets and necklaces … Warm air … Vanilla …
‘Hello,’ I say. ‘I’m … I’m …’ I can’t remember my name.
‘Neena,’ she says, smiling. ‘You must be Neena.’
‘Yes! Yes, I’m Neena.’
The woman holds a hand out for me to shake. Her palm is soft and her skin is warm. My hand must feel so clammy to her.
‘Come on in. I’ve heard so much about you. I’ll call Josh – we just got in ourselves.’
I step inside. The door closes. I feel a wash of relief. ‘I’ll go up …’ I tell her. ‘I just need to see him. I … I just …’ My hand is aching where I’ve been banging it against the door.
Josh’s mum frowns, and I’m worried she won’t let me see him. But then she smiles again. ‘Of course, love. Go on up.’
I rush up the stairs and stand outside the beaded curtain to Josh’s room, catching my breath. I don’t go straight in. There might be another ambush inside. ‘Josh?’ I say. ‘It’s me. Is it safe to come in?’
The beads part and Josh appears. He grins. Perfect teeth. I step into the room, into his arms. The beads close and clatter behind us like they’re clapping.
Josh gives me a quick kiss. ‘I didn’t know you were coming over today,’ he says. ‘Good surprise.’
My eyes dart around the room. My breath is shallow. I need to check I’m definitely safe here. ‘Can you shut the curtains?’ I say. ‘I’m worried they’re following me.’
Josh frowns. ‘What do you mean? Who’s following you?’
I rush on, the words spilling out. ‘If they’re not following me, they might be watching, spying – they’re always watching me.’
‘Slow down,’ Josh says. He takes my arm and manoeuvres me to the bed. We sit on the edge of the mattress. ‘Who’s watching, Neena? I don’t understand.’
‘Mum. Dad. The teachers. Everyone.’
Josh squeezes my hand. ‘Shhh. Hey, breathe. Just breathe. There’s no one here but me. Well, me and my mum, I suppose. I promise.’
‘Please,’ I beg him. ‘Shut the curtains.’
He gets up and pulls the curtains shut. Turns on the lamp.
‘No!’ I say. ‘No light. They might see it.’
Josh is looking really unsure now. ‘Neens, I –’
My chest is tight. I’m desperate. ‘Please, Josh.’
He does as I’ve asked and I expect to feel better, but I don’t. They could still be out there. Josh kneels in front of me and wraps his arms round my waist, presses his face into my neck. ‘You’re shaking,’ he says. ‘Did someone follow you here? Why are you so scared?’
I’m not shaking; it’s more like my skin’s twitching and jumping all over. ‘What’s happening?’ I ask, pressing my head against Josh’s shoulder.
‘I … I don’t know. But you’re safe here.’
I can’t stop twitching. ‘Do you ever feel like you’re in hell, Josh? Are we both in hell? Why are they trying to get me?’
Josh strokes my hair. ‘Shhhhh. No one’s after you, Neens. You’re safe.’
‘No, no, I’m not.’