Page 6 of Dirty Tricks

“Yuck. You must hate it in here. I wear ear plugs to keep out ambient noise as it is.”

“I like it.” When they turn to me wearing puzzled expressions, I add, “The noises make it cosier. The pipes sound like someone’s breathing in tandem with me. It’s lovely.”

Jenna pulls a face. “Guess I’ll take your word for it.”

There is more I could tell them, about how sometimes my dreaming mind turns the sounds into a man, a divinely proportioned saviour who peels away from the shadows under the bed as I lie asleep, rising to stand tall as he watches over me. But that sounds crazy, so I keep it to myself.

Mine is half the price of the other boarding rooms as a nod towards the inconvenience. I would gladly put up with ten times worse to have my own space. It’s exciting to have friends. To have a boyfriend.

I love not having to live at home, cowering in the shadows. Never inviting anyone over in case it upsets Dad. Not having to listen to the noises coming from his bedroom, shuddering at the thought he might grow sick of his new wife, kick her out, and we’ll be back to just the two of us.

My stomach shrivels as I think about what he’s subjecting her to, but that’s not my business. At least, that’s what she hissed at me, openly seething, the only time I asked.

Vonnie clicks her fingers at Jenna. “What’s Todd wearing?”

My skin turns cold, and I shiver, cutting my eyes to the floor in case the wrong expression trickles onto my face.

It must work because Jenna gives an elaborate sigh at the thought of her boyfriend. “He’s grabbed a box of those old-style horror hockey masks from the roller derby rink. They’reallwearing them.”

“Ugh. Boys don’t have any sense of fun.”

“The red masks?” I ask, struggling to fit them into the picture. “Finn told me we were going as a matched pair.”

“Aren’t the team called the roller wolves?” Jenna asks. “Perhaps that’s what he meant. He’s a predator and you’re the prey.”

“Oh.” I bite into my lower lip, another drop of fun draining from the day. “I guess that fits.”

“Yeah, it does.” Jenna smiles at Vonnie. “And he can openly swipe at your enemies for a change.”

I frown, turning the words over, trying to make them make sense. After a half minute of silence, I shrug, giving up. “What d’you mean?”

Jenna smirks. “Haven’t you noticed bad things seem to happen whenever someone crosses you?”

My expression must tell her I don’t have a clue what she’s talking about because she adds, “Remember the time you complained about Mr Hickory marking you down on an essay because he couldn’t read your, quote, atrocious handwriting, end quote?”

“What about it?”

“The next day he walked into class with his arm in a cast and a twelve-stitch long gash on his head.”

“From a car accident,” I retort, rolling my eyes.

“Where his brake lines were cut,” Vonnie says. “I heard it from Maisie Sargeson. He got it fixed at her dad’s garage and they had to stop work for a half day while the police came in to photograph the evidence.”

I stare at her with a puzzled frown. “A, I don’t know the first thing about cars and B, I’m hardly going to endanger his life over an essay.”

Vonnie continues, “And what about Brad? A day after he tugged your ponytail at assembly, he turned up to class bald except for those red patches on his scalp.”

“A superglue accident.” I shake my head. “He told everyone he was fixing a model plane and it got everywhere.”

“Right.” Now Jenna’s the one rolling her eyes. “And Pete crushed his own foot after kicking open your bag, did he?”

“Amelie came to school with a black eye the day after making fun of how you pull up your socks.”

“Bea had her hand slammed in a car door after pinching the last carrot cake muffin off your plate.”

I stare at the two of them, thinking they’re both insane, except… that is quite a lot of coincidences. A tiny glimmer of fear lights up the base of my spine, and I joke to get rid of it. “Guess I better not complain about Finn, then.”

The girls look at each other, then burst into laughter.

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