I looked around the rest of the classroom. They’re all looking at me with the same look as David. Mrs Price is looking at Rebecca. I can see, in her eyes, that she desperately wants to go and comfort her. She suddenly turned to look at me, as though she could feel my glare burning into the side of her pretty face. I don’t recognise the expression in her eyes. It’s as though she’s asking, ‘what have you done?’ without actually speaking the words. I forgot how much I hated myself, right now, to answer her with a look of my own. I look which told her — ‘I did what she deserved and that was only the beginning’.

I stood up, behind the teacher’s desk, to address the class. I feel as though I should say something. Whilst I am sure some of them know why I am here, I’m positive some of them don’t have a clue. After all, some of my classmates…I’ve hardly spoken to them and, in turn, they’ve hardly spoken to me. It’s only fair, given the circumstances, I give them a chance to understand what I’m doing here. And it’s only fair to let them know, they’ll come to no harm.

“If I call your name, I’d like you to stand up please…David Barlow…” the class went silent, “…Lindsey West…” One by one, when I called out the names, they stood up just as I had requested them to. Each of them looked just as nervous as the one who was called out before. They have nothing to be nervous about. Seven names in total — David, Lindsey, Elizabeth, Marcus, Samantha, Kate, Helen. Funny how it’s mainly girl’s names I’m calling out. I guess it’s more in boys’ nature to be cruel to one another. Not for much longer. Not by the time I’m done. And word of what’s to come will soon spread around the town too; a harsh warning to others who may be making similar mistakes as made by Piers and his little friends.

I looked around the classroom at the pupils still sat down. One of them was Craig Clemo. I considered calling his name out too but…I recall him being involved in one of the incidents where I was under fire. He kept his head down. He didn’t offer help or anything. Not even when the group left me alone and I was nursing a bloodied nose. He didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t offer to get help. Nothing. Just stood there watching me. He can stay sat down.

“If you’re currently standing up…I’m sorry you’re here. Had there been any other way, I would have taken it I can assure you. I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve done nothing wrong to me or, as far as I know, anyone else. If you’d like to come forward…You can bring your chairs…You can sit to the side, near me; out of harm’s way…” There was the briefest of pauses before each of the seven came to the front of the class as I had requested. The rest of the class just looked nervous and confused. “I know you won’t but…Should any of you attempt anything funny…You’ll have to join the rest of your classmates. Understood?”

They nodded. David looked as though he desperately wanted to say something but no words came from his quivering mouth.

Mrs Price asked, “What about me? What have I done?”

I shot her a look, “It’s what you didn’t do…” I know I originally thought this wasn’t about her but Mrs Price is just as bad as some of the students who sit in front of me. The way she berated some of us, in front of the whole class, did nothing for self-esteem and embarrassed us. The more I see her, sitting there…The more I see her as another form of bully.

3

David led the way to my first classroom. I have to say, it was a nice stroke of luck meeting him. I hate meeting new people; I always feel awkward…Never sure what to say to potential new friends. Normally I just hang around a large group and occasionally laugh at a joke one of them may say. Then, hopefully, one of them will start to include me in their conversations too. Of course, it doesn’t always work like that. Sometimes you can just sit there and be completely ignored. That’s never fun. It makes you feel worthless and insignificant. It was definitely a stroke of luck bumping into David now. I only but hope we share more than one class together.

“Here we are,” said David. He stopped outside a classroom door. “You might not want to go in with me,” he said.

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. “Don’t want to be seen with the new guy, huh?” He didn’t answer, just looked away with a sheepish expression on his face — the once cheeky smile now faded. I can’t believe he actually looked worried about being seen with me. I know no one really likes to be seen with the new kid on the block but this was the most extreme I’ve seen it. “Fine, whatever.”

I pushed past him and walked through the busy sounding classroom. The room, full of my new classmates, went quiet as soon as they saw me. I won’t lie, it’s not the most comfortable of welcomes. I felt like a stranger stumbling through a small town for the first time…A town where they aren’t used to seeing a new face. They aren’t used to it and nor do they welcome it.

“Hi,” I said. Unsurprisingly no one answered. I turned back to the door hoping to see David’s once friendly face. He wasn’t there. Well…By myself then. “Okay then…” I muttered, more or less to myself, as I walked over to one of the spare seats at the front of the classroom. I always prefer sitting at the front of the class. I learned long ago that the teacher picks on you more if you choose to sit towards the back of the room as they think you’re not paying any attention to what they’re trying to teach you. I’m sure this teacher will be no different.

I started to root around in my rucksack. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular; simply trying to distract myself from the whisperings coming from behind me. Little voices enquiring who I was and what I was doing here…One voice explaining how bent I looked. A friendly bunch then. In times like these, as sadly it’s not the first time I’ve experienced this, I just have to keep telling myself that everything is going to be okay and they just need the chance to get to know me a little better. Day one is always awkward. By day two — you’re yesterday’s news. Just need to make it through to tomorrow.

“Faggot!” shouted a voice from behind me. I turned away from my rucksack and looked in the direction of the voice. One thing to whisper behind my back, it’s another thing altogether to start name calling me…The insult came from a lad in the back of the class. Of course it was the back. A scruffy, stocky lad with messy blonde hair. He wasn’t looking at me, though. Was the insult even meant for me? I followed his gaze to where David was stood in the doorway of the classroom. David looked anxious. Is this why he didn’t want to come in with me? Worried the lads would pick on me because I was with him? Makes sense. I did think it was weird how he went from being so friendly to so cold. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming in today,” said the boy at the back of the class.

“Just took him longer to wank off Mr Fitzpatrick this morning…” said a lad to the left of the one who started the insults. Laughter rippled through the classroom from most of the students. David didn’t laugh. He simply walked over to an empty chair behind a pretty girl who was also laughing at him.

“Fuck,” said the first lad, “why are you such a fucking faggot? Your mum and dad must be gutted to have you as a son. Oh wait, your mum’s dead isn’t she? Surprised I forgot that. After all, it was only last night I was skull fucking her corpse…Still…Your dad isn’t dead. Probably just wishes he was. I reckon he’s sat at home now wondering why his son is such a bender…”

“Maybe he’s using you as his role model,” I said. I couldn’t help but speak up. David was visibly upset and this was obviously a daily occurrence. No sooner had the words escaped my mouth then the class fell silent. The lad looked at me; a look of hatred in his blue eyes.

“Fuck you say?”

“Well I too was wondering how he’s as gay as he is…The way he so expertly sucks cocks…The only way I can see someone his age, being so great at swallowing spunk, is if he had a role model. I look around here and the only possibility is you and your bum-chum friends.”