Page 89 of The Rat

“The last time I didpapier-mâché waswhen I was ten.” Rory muttered.

Ollie snorted. “It’s better thansitting in the wing and doing nothing.”

“True. All I do is think about the mess ofmy life, and it’s depressing.”

“Well you’re fun thismorning…”

Mrs. Mason clapped her hands for everyone’sattention, yet again no one listened, and it was the deep boom ofthe guard’s voice that shut them all up.

“Those that started last week,comeandcollect your balloons from the front.”

Ollie bolted out of his chair in aflash. He got his balloon, half covered in newspaper, and hurriedback to his seat.

“I mean, you’ll need toblow up a bigger balloon than this one.”

“Why?” Roryasked.

“Your head’s massive.”

Rorypinched Ollie’s thigh, and he jumpedout of his chair. “Asshole.”

“Surely there’s easier ways ofmaking masks, you know… card and string.”

“Anyone can dothat.”

“But slapping newspaper ona balloon is harder somehow?”

Ollie laughed.“It takeslonger. Anything to eat away at time.”

“I guess…”

Mrs. Mason started handing out bowls ofpaste. “Sebastian, can you mix up some more?”

Henodded and went to the front of the class.Rory noticed the bandana wearing inmates were all staring his way,never letting Sebastian out of their sights. he tried to push theworry aside, but he felt the tension in the air. Something wasbrewing.

Rory wrinkled his nose at the bowlpassed to him. “Looks like algae.”

“That remindsme—I beatGreen at pool yesterday.”

“Yeah?”

Ollie nodded. “Jack says I’m gettinggood.”

“You’ve only been playingfor a week.”

“Endlessly playing, at anyopportunity.” Ollie corrected. “And Teddy’s teaching me poker, soI’ll be kicking your ass at that, too.”

“What aboutchess?”

Ollie groaned. “No, thanks, but maybe in a fewyears’ time I’ll change my mind.”

Rory didn’t say anything back,andOlliegrinned, and a soft laugh left his lips. “The way I see it, is Ican either sit around, thinking about how my life turned to shit,or I can keep as busy as possible, and not think aboutit.”

Rory lowered his head. “Still noreplies?”

“None.My brother doesn’t want to see me,and I don’t blame him. Maybe when I get out of here, he’ll give methe chance to explain.”

Mrs. Mason walked between the tables, handingout newspapers. She grinned at Ollie, and Ollie grinnedback.

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