Page 28 of The Black Flamingo

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her Doc Marten boots up on the seat

in front. Even though we’re the same

age, Daisy seems older than twelve.

“Hey, Daisy,” I say softly,

“do you reckon I can sit next to you?”

She moves her bag from the seat next to her

onto her lap.

“Yeah,” she replies, “but I’m reading

so just don’t talk to me.”

She gets back toThe Curious Incident

of the Dog in the Night-Time.

I sit in silence next to Daisy.

Laughter and chatter rattle around

the rest of the bus but I feel a strange

sort of safety in this silence with Daisy.

Daisy continues reading her book

and I am reading her.Can I trust her?

“Bye, Daisy. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

The next day, as the bell goes

at the end of history class, I ask Daisy,

“Wanna get lunch together?”

I feel like she needs the company

as much as me.

“Do you have a packed lunch?” asks Daisy.

“No.” I pause. “I get free school meals.”

“Well,” she says, “you can sit with me after

you’ve eaten. I’ll be in B24. Bring a book.”

I don’t have a book but I think I might have

a new friend. I’m finishing my lunch, wolfing it

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