Scarlett - Cathy Cassidy [14]
I’m used to it now, of course, but you have to be cool, you have to be calm, you have to play it right. You have to make an entrance.
That’s what I do, all right. Dad drives right into the playground and screeches to a halt just as the bell for break peals out.
Kids swarm out of the school towards us, then stop, gawping. I can see Holly, with her mile-wide grin and her shining face. I can see a geeky girl and a lanky, ginger-haired boy, but the other kids seem very young. They are amused by my wedge sandals, my fluffy rucksack. They whisper and point at my ketchup-coloured hair.
I look around the playground for a stone to crawl under.
Dad starts explaining my late arrival to the teacher, Miss Madden, who peers at me over her glasses, looking faintly horrified. She dredges up a smile.
‘Miss Flynn,’ she says, and I can’t help wincing at the name. ‘A11 the way from London, so. Well, I’m sure you’ll settle right in.’
I’m sure I won’t.
‘Yes, Miss,’ I say.
The wedge heels don’t help – I am head and shoulders taller than every other pupil in this dump. I feel like a lion that’s mistakenly wandered into the small furry-animal enclosure at the zoo. I don’t fit.
OK, all I have to do is roar loudly and they’ll back away, but the more those kids laugh and whisper in their weirdo sing-song accent, the more it feels like I’m the one who’s nervous.
Small children can be very, very scary.
Holly appears at my side, brown eyes reproachful. ‘Did you really forget your pencil case?’ she wants to know.
‘Not my pencil case, my flick knife,’ I growl, and watch her eyes widen. ‘Joke, Holly, OK? I don’t carry a flick knife. You shouldn’t have made the bus wait, y’know. I’m not worth it.’
‘I think you are,’ Holly says.
‘More fool you.’
The bell rings for class and the geeky, dark-haired girl appears at my side. ‘You’re Scarlett, aren’t you?’ she says. ‘I’m Ros. I’m in Sixth Class too. Perhaps we can be friends?’
Do I look that desperate? Probably. I trail inside and flop down in the window seat beside her. The lanky, ginger-haired lad in the seat behind drags his desk back a little, in case I have some contagious disease that’s passed on by eye contact. Terrific. He has to be the other Sixth Class kid.
I blow him a kiss, which makes him blush beetroot with disgust. Makes me feel better, though.
‘Good morning, Scarlett,’ Miss Madden says crisply. ‘Welcome to Kilimoor. We’re a very small school, and that’s bound to feel strange after the high school you’ve just left in London, but I’m sure you’ll fit right in!’
‘Fáilte, Scarlett,’ the class chorus. ‘Dia duit, Scarlett!’
I look blank.
‘It’s Irish,’ Ros whispers in my ear. ‘They’re just saying welcome, and hello.’
‘Whatever,’ I scowl, and Miss Madden gives me a sour look. Yup, I’m settling in fine.
By lunchtime, I’ve ploughed through four pages of maths and completed a geography worksheet on rainfall, all without major disaster. Maybe, just maybe, I am going to be able to handle this place. How hard can it be? It’s not just a primary school, it’s the tiniest primary school in the known universe.
So what if I’m a lion trapped in the small furry-animal enclosure? They’re lucky to have me. My roar is returning by the moment.
Ros, Holly and I eat our sandwiches on the grass, next to the playground where the smaller kids are legging it around with footballs and skipping ropes. The lanky, ginger-haired kid comes up and sits down beside us, shooting me black looks.
‘This is Matty’ Ros tells me. ‘He’s in Sixth Class too.’
Matty downs a ham sandwich in just one mouthful, glowering. I wink at him, which makes him blush purple all over again.
‘You think you’re so cool, don’t you?’ he huffs.
‘Cooler than you?’ I laugh. ‘Well, yeah, just a bit, Carrot Boy!’
‘You’re not so tough,’ he says. ‘You’re just