Edenham Comprehensive

The first thing Casey sees when she wakes up is a blinding white light that sears her eyes and forces her to close them swiftly. She opens them again, more tentatively this time, and blinks away the last dregs of unconsciousness. Slowly, her head swivels around the room, taking in her surroundings. From the looks of it, she’s in a storage cupboard, if the mops cluttering the space and the musty stench threatening to choke her are anything to go by. The painfully bright light appears to be coming from a naked light bulb, dangling from the low ceiling.

There’s an ache in her arms, tied sharply behind her back. She shifts a little, trying to get more comfortable, but to no avail. Eventually, she gives up, resting against something that feels suspiciously like a pipe.

But then the door opens and someone shoves a groggy-looking Reuben with her, shutting the door quickly before she can see who it is. He gives a groan and rolls over, his hands similarly tied behind his back. She shuffles over to him, somehow mustering up a smile.

“Hey,” he mumbles, groaning slightly as he tries to prop himself up. “What’s – ugh – what’s going on?”

“No idea,” she replies quietly, her sombre mood returned. “But I think we’re being punished.”

He groans again. “Fabulous. This is just what I need.” He leans up against the wall, giving her a sidelong glance. “So how are we going to get punished?” he asks curiously.

“I don’t know,” she replies honestly. “It changes every time. But it’ll be awful. It always is.”

He sighs, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to make himself more comfortable. “Jeez. It can’t be that bad, can it?”

She smiles grimly. “Oh, Reuben. You have no idea.”

He leans over slightly, but loses his balance and topples into her lap. Smiling, he looks up at her, an apologetic expression on his face.

“Sorry about this,” he says, not sounding particularly sorry at all.

“It’s fine,” she replies softly, smiling back at him.

“You know,” he comments, “if I had to be locked in a storage cupboard with anyone awaiting some horrible, unknown punishment, I’m glad it’s you.”

She smiles involuntarily. “Me too.”

But before they can continue their conversation, the door opens once more and Tyler strolls in, smiling dangerously. His eyes are glinting with barely-disguised malice and his lips are curved into a twisted smirk.

“Tyler,” Reuben mutters, lifting his head slightly to look at him boredly, then dropping it back into Casey’s lap. “Why am I not surprised?”

For a second, Tyler looks stumped as he glances from Reuben to Casey. It strikes her then that they must look pretty intimate, sitting there like that. But she doesn’t want him to move; it’s comfortable, and his head is warming her knees. It’s not just that, though. It feels good. Right.

“Get up,” he orders eventually.

Reuben just looks at him, unimpressed. “Uh, how? Our hands our tied behind our backs.”

Tyler narrows his eyes at him as Casey bites back a smile. Squatting down to their level, he hauls Reuben to his feet, ignoring him as he staggers around, trying to get his balance. He helps Casey up more gently, making sure she’s steady on her feet before letting go of her hand somewhat reluctantly. She doesn’t seem to notice, but it doesn’t escape Reuben’s eagle eyes; a frown settles slowly on his face as he watches.

“So what’re you going to do with us?” he asks cautiously.

Tyler doesn’t even turn around; his eyes are fixed on Casey. “You’ll find out soon enough.” As if on cue, his goons appear from seemingly nowhere and grab her and Reuben. Without so much as a word to them, they drag them out of the cupboard, through the deserted hallways, all the way to the assembly hall.

It’s brimming with people when they get there, and Casey can feel her stomach churning with apprehension. This is the event she saw advertised earlier, she just knows it. No doubt Tyler charged them an inordinate amount of money to squeeze the most out of his dumb, loyal subjects as he could. It makes her stomach churn just thinking about it.

As they are shoved inside, every head swivels to look at them, eyes boring into them like lasers. It appears no one in the school was ever taught that staring is rude. Casey walks as close to Reuben as she possibly can, her fingers brushing lightly against his in search of comfort and protection from the searching gazes of their peers.

“It’s going to be okay,” Reuben whispers, trying to smile. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

She tries to smile back, but it comes out more like a grimace. Tyler’s trusty sidekicks shove them forward up the steps onto the stage, forcing them into the limelight even more. The man himself walks – no, skips – up beside them, the familiar smirk back in place as he barges them aside.

“So,” he says, his voice carrying across the crowded hall effortlessly, even without a microphone, “you two haven’t exactly been on your best behaviour, have you? I think they ought to get punished.” He turns to the audience, his head cocked to one side. “Don’t you?”

A chorus of ‘yes’s rises up from the audience, each one more eager than the last.

“It’s like the Romans and the gladiators,” Casey mutters under her breath, shifting uncomfortably under the harsh spotlight. “What are we supposed to have done, exactly?” she asks Tyler coolly, trying to play it cool.

He whips around, and narrows his eyes at her. “You now full well what you’re supposed to have done. You broke the rules. You got help. And now you have to pay.”

Tyler grins, and reaches out to caress her cheek with his hand. The audience titters with amusement as Casey shivers, disgusted. He leans forward and kisses her, hard and forceful, invading her mouth with his tongue. She squeezes her eyes shut, willing with all her might for it to just be over.

Finally, he pulls away, looking her up and down.

“So, what now?” Reuben demands, hoping he manages to convey all his deep-rooted loathing for the other boy in those three sentences. "You going to kiss me too? Only I'd really rather you didn't. I wouldn’t want to catch anything."

Tyler only smirks at him, before turning back to the audience. "Which shall we have this time? The stocks? A good old-fashioned rack? Or maybe even the wheel? What choice we have."

They erupt into fervent cheers. Casey visibly pales, knowing all too well what's coming next.

"Tyler, let Reuben go," she pleads. "He had nothing to do with this. It was my fault. Don't punish him. I'm begging you, please."

He raises an eyebrow with casual disinterest. "You're begging me? How sweet."

"Ty-ty, please," she whispers, using the nickname no one has called him by for longer than either of them would care to remember.

But though he stiffens, her pleas fall on deaf ears. Signalling to his henchmen, he watches as they wheel out two identical wooden stocks.

"I lied," he says flippantly. "There never really was a choice. You know the stocks are my favourite, Casey." To his goons, he orders, "Get them in and don't let them escape."

One of them grabs Casey in his iron fists. The other does the same to Reuben, forcing the two Grade 3s into their respective stocks. As the wood comes down over his neck and wrists, he struggles, trying to get free, but it's no use. He's stuck like a pig.

"Don't struggle," she says quietly from his left. "It's worse if you do."

"Ladies and gents," Tyler purrs, sweeping the audience with his gaze, "you should all know how this works by now."

The audience snickers. The vast majority of them are clutching rotten food from the canteen, others simply anything they can get their hands on.

Reuben squeezes the rest of his arm through the gap and Casey does the same. They grab each other's sweaty, clammy hands, grateful for the small comfort, and brace themselves for what's to come.

"God help us," she murmurs, as the onslaught begins.

***

"Enough," Tyler commands, holding up a hand, his voice ringing out sharp and clear across the hall.

Instantly, everyone stops, but not without some reluctance. Casey's grip on Reuben's hand tightens as Tyler stops, turns, and looks right at them.

"That will be all for today," he says silkily. His goons jump to action, herding people out of the hall. In seemingly no time at all, the three of them are alone on the stage.

Casey knows from experience what's going on, but unfortunately - or fortunately, depending on the perspective - Reuben is clueless.

"You going to let us go or what?" he grumbles, oblivious.

Tyler's eyes flick to her. "Care to explain, Casey?"

"This is our personal, private punishment," she says quietly, so quietly Reuben has to strain to hear her. She lifts her head slightly, looking up from the floor into those ice-cold eyes. "What are you going to do to us?"

"I think you can guess," he whispers, his face directly in front of hers.

Producing a set of keys, he unlocks the shackles holding Casey in place. She crumples to a heap on the floor, any muscle in her legs replaced with jelly.

He points directly at her. “Strip. Now.”

Her mouth drops open. “What?!”

He regards her coldly, his expression unchanging. “You heard.”

She gulps. Reuben glares at Tyler, his face squashed into an expression of disgust and – not for the first time – pure loathing.

“You bastard,” he spits. “You sick, perverted bastard.”

Tyler smiles blandly. “Ain’t I just? Strip, Casey,” he orders, his eyes hard.

Reuben opens his mouth to protest, but Casey just shakes her head dully. “It’s not worth it, Reuben,” she murmurs, slowly getting to her feet.

Kicking off her shoes, she shrugs off her blazer. Reuben looks at her in alarm.

“What are you doing?” he hisses, horrified.

“I’m getting it over with,” she replies quietly, loosening her tie and pulling it over her head.

Her fingers fumble with the tiny buttons of her school blouse, slowly exposing the pale skin underneath. Her bra appears, and one of them breathes in sharply. She doesn't know which one. Shaking, a deep blush creeping into her cheeks, she pulls down her skirt and tights in one fluid motion and drops her blouse to the floor so she’s standing in only her bra and knickers. Suddenly conscious of her almost-nakedness, she folds her arms across her chest, shifting uncomfortably.

Reuben can’t help it; he’s staring right at her and he can’t seem to tear his eyes away. He can see the ribs protruding from her chest like the raised ridges of mountains, and it’s painfully obvious how thin she is. Her petite, skeletal frame, coupled with her sheet-white skin makes her look vulnerable, doll-like even, and he has a sudden, overwhelming urge to hold her and protect her from the world.

She’s shivering violently, her bare skin clothed in goose bumps. She must be freezing. Arsehole, he thinks venomously, directing it at Tyler in case he’s a mind reader. Reuben wouldn’t put it past him.

"What are you going to do to her?" he demands, his eyes narrowed to slits.

"Relax," Tyler murmurs, trailing his fingers down her body. They rest on the faded bruises on her stomach and he presses his hands into the tender skin, ignoring her barely-controlled wince. He presses harder, squeezing her skin beneath his fingers until she gasps with pain and stumbles backwards.

Reuben grits his teeth. Why isn't she fighting back? He squirms in his bonds, but they don't give an inch.

Tyler runs his fingers back up her body, leaving harsh red marks in his wake. He snaps her bra against her back, pulling her closer to him as he does so.

"Tyler," Casey whispers, her face a mask of thinly veiled terror, "please don't do this. You've punished us enough."

"Have I?" he murmurs, tightening his grip on her arm. "I don't think so."

"Please, Tyler," she repeats, desperation squeezing tears out of her eyes. "Please."

"Would you beg?" he whispers. "Would you get down on your knees and beg me not to?"

"Bastard," Reuben snarls, the single word saturated with venom. "You touch her and I'll-"

"You'll what, Alcott?" Tyler cuts him off, turning slightly to throw a careless glance in his direction. "You're a bittied up right now."

"I won't let you hurt her," Reuben replies defiantly. "Do what you like to me but just leave her alone."

Tyler relinquishes his grip on Casey’s wrist, ignoring her as she collapses to a heap on the ground. He crosses the stage in two swift strides, squatting down to Reuben’s level.

“Do you mean that?” he says softly, staring into the other boy’s eyes like he’s looking for something. “What would you let me do to you to protect her?”

Reuben shivers in disgust. “Just get it over with you selfish, arrogant, son of a-”

Tyler cuts him off with a single punch to his face. Nothing breaks, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Across the stage, Casey flinches, and uses Tyler’s switch of focus to crawl away. He doesn’t notice; he’s too busy unlocking Reuben’s cuffs and dragging him to his feet.

“Think about it for a second. Is she worth it?” he says softly, bringing his face insufferably close to the other boy’s. “Do you really care about her that much?”

“You have no idea,” Reuben spits.

Tyler smirks. “So naïve. You’ve got a lot to learn, mate.”

A blow to his stomach leaves him reeling and, released from Tyler’s iron grip, Reuben slithers to the floor. It’s followed promptly by a barrage of kicks to his ribcage. He tries to get up, tries to fight back, but Tyler’s ruthlessness is matched only by his rage. Reuben gets in one punch, maybe two, before he’s on him again, relentless in his bid to do as much damage to him as possible.

As the blackness closes in on Reuben’s mind, his last thought is of Casey. He offers up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening, but then the world trembles and vanishes before his eyes.

***

Reuben shakes his head groggily, wincing as the jackhammers resume their pounding on his forehead. It takes him a few minutes to leverage himself into a sitting position. The pain is debilitating; it shoots down every nerve in his body, driving needle-sharp points into every single cell. He feels his face instinctively, but finds nothing too damaged. He’s been through worse fights than this. He’ll survive.

He notices his uniform lying in a crumpled heap a few metres off, and crawls towards it on his hands and knees. He wriggles into his trousers and attack the buttons on his shirt with fingers that feel like thumbs. Once he’s fully clothed again, he takes the opportunity to look around.

The room is entirely empty, with not a soul in sight. The last thing he remembers is Tyler’s smug, self-satisfied face smirking down at him before everything went black. But it's all blurry, like for some reason he's blocking it out.

He shakes his head again, trying to clear it, but suddenly he frowns. Where’s Casey?

Slowly, he pulls himself to his feet with little more than a wince and takes a cursory glance at his surroundings. The stage is empty except for him, of course, and there’s no sign that she could be anywhere near. He pricks up an ear, concentrating hard for any indication of her presence. Nothing.

“Casey?” he calls, tentative. “Casey, are you there?”

Nothing. Just the deafening, echoing silence, drumming and screeching in his ears.

Maybe Tyler took her with him, he wonders, but he dismisses the idea just as quickly. He doesn’t care about the welfare of anyone but himself. Reuben’s mouth hardens just thinking about the other boy.

He scouts the stage, looking for some sign of Casey’s existence, figuring she can’t have gone very far while he was unconscious. He’s lost his watch, so he has no idea of the time, but he's guessing it's only been an hour or so since they were unceremoniously dragged here.

A twitching by the curtains covering the backdrop of the stage catches his eye, and realisation dawns. He limps towards it, brushing the curtains aside to reveal the girl behind it.

Casey looks awful, in that she doesn’t look anything at all. Her face is an ice-white marble sheet of nothingness, her eyes as empty as death itself. She’s rocking backwards and forwards, her body horribly, unnaturally still except for that same, repetitive motion.

In all honesty, seeing her like that scares the living shit out of Reuben.

“Casey?” he says softly, squatting down to her level. “Casey, are you okay?”

She doesn’t respond. He reaches out to touch the exposed skin of her left arm, curled protectively around her knees. She doesn’t flinch away; she doesn’t appear to have noticed his presence, let alone his touch. Her skin is icy cold, but she’s not even shivering. Her blazer’s lying in a heap on the ground around her, so he lifts it up and drapes it around her shoulders in an attempt to restore warmth to her freezing body.

She still doesn’t react. She’s still staring unseeingly, unblinkingly, unemotionally, rocking backwards and forwards to that incessant, silent beat.

Reuben manoeuvres himself into a sitting position next to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her as tight as he dares to stop her from rocking. Slowly, she comes to a shuddery halt, squirming slightly so he’s afraid she might snap in his grip.

A spasm judders through her body and she makes a sound for the first time: a choked, haunted sob that escapes from her throat in a barely audible whimper. Her body goes limp in his arms and she allows him to hold her, to stroke her, to murmur soothing nonsense in her ear until the madness muttering in her brain quiets and the world sharpens back into focus.

At long last, she speaks. Her voice cracks and scratches at the edge of her throat, making it out of her mouth in little more than a crushed whisper.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Reuben asks, genuinely flummoxed.

Casey gestures around them listlessly. “This. It was my fault.”

“No it wasn't,” he assures her, but she shakes her head vehemently, spraying light, silent tears onto his shirt.

“It was,” she whispers hoarsely. “If it wasn't for me, you wouldn’t be in this mess. I shouldn’t have asked for your help. I should’ve known better. It was stupid and foolish and reckless and I’m so, so sorry, Reuben.”

He shakes his head firmly, setting her away from him slightly to look her in the eyes, tilting her chin towards him to allow himself to do so.

“Casey,” he says gently, “this was by no means your fault. At all. It was Tyler’s. All Tyler’s.” Reuben spits his name, harshly, like it’s some kind of disease. “You can’t blame yourself.”

“You don’t get it,” she whispers, that haunted look returning to her eyes. “You didn’t deserve that kind of humiliation. Me, on the other hand…” she trails off, her meaning clear.

“No one deserves that, Casey,” he says immediately. “No one.”

“I do,” she replies softly. “I deserve all that and worse.”

“What could you have done that was so bad you deserved all that?” he reasons. She turns her head away, shaking it mutely. “Casey,” he prods harder, suddenly desperate to know.

“You’ll hate me,” she croaks, blinking away the tears pooling in her paler than ever eyes. “More than you should already.”

“I won’t,” he promises her, but she doesn’t appear satisfied, or convinced.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” she says quietly, resting her chin on top of her knees as she draws them into her chest. “I would hate me, if I were in your shoes. I’m a horrible person.”

“I don’t believe that,” he replies lightly.

Her smile is grim. “Well, you should. Some of the things I’ve done… they just don’t bear thinking about.”

“Well, have you ever stolen anything?” he asks bluntly.

“No.”

“Raped anyone?”

She gives him a look. “No.”

“Killed anyone?”

“No.”

“Well, there you go, then,” he replies, apparently satisfied.

Casey’s not. Not by any means. “I may as well have done.” Her admission is barely audible. “What Georgia did to me… what Tyler’s just done to us… I’ve done it to so many people I’ve lost count. I used to do it on a regular basis. I’d mess with people’s minds, mess with people’s lives, make them think they were worthless, meaningless, good for nothing. I messed with people because I liked it.” The revulsion in her tone is so strong it's almost tangible. “I was the girl everybody loved to hate. Evil, twisted and a Class A bitch. But, despite that, despite themselves, despite it all, I was what everyone else wanted to be: Pretty. Popular. Protected. I was the elite, and people envied me that.” A wry smile tugs at her lips as she plays with her hands, clasped in her lap. “Grade 1s hate me for who I am. Grade 3s hate me for who I used to be. Who I stillam. Grade 2s hate me because they know they can easily become me. So basically, everyone hates me.”

“Not everyone,” Reuben says, his voice surprisingly soft. “I don’t hate you. Everyone does things they know are wrong. Everyone does things they regret. It’s called being human. We all make mistakes, we just don’t like to admit it. And besides, you’re not like that any more. You’ve changed.”

“Have I, though?” She shakes her hair out of her face and looks up at him with such cynicism he could be looking at an old, world-weary woman.

“Yes,” he replies firmly. “Yes, yes you have.”

Tears prick at her eyes once more and she buries her head in his chest to stop them from falling, clutching him to her like she’ll never let go. He just holds her, resting his chin on top of her head.

After her sobs start to subside, she brings her head out to look at him, properly look at him, and her eyes widen at the sight of his face. He’s got the makings of a black eye, his nose is bleeding and there are purple bruises all over his bare skin.

Without making a conscious decision to, she strokes them, her fingers soft against his rough, stubbly cheek. She traces the line of his jaw, feeling him gulp beneath her touch, her face so close to his she can count every last one of the eyelashes framing his chocolate eyes. He covers her hand with his own, his breathing becoming more ragged as the seconds pass. Every nerve in his body is screaming at him to do something instead of just sitting here staring at her.

But then Casey shakes her head, pulling herself out of her reverie. She turns her head swiftly, breaking the connection between them.

“Why do you care about me so much?” she asks suddenly. “I mean, you hardly know me, yet you still stuck your neck out for me.” A smile, grim, twitches on her lips. “Literally.”

“What can I say?” he replies lightly. “That’s what friends do. They help each other out.”

“Thank you,” she says quietly, smiling her small smile at him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like you but I’m glad I’ve got you anyway. It’s nice not to be alone against Tyler any more.”

Reuben tenses at the mere mention of the other boy’s name. If he lets his mind wander back to the events of this afternoon, events he can only half-remember, the red hot fury starts pulsing in his blood once more and it feels like he’s about to explode. To calm himself down, he focuses on Casey, breathing rhythmically in and out, in and out, until he feels relatively normal again.

But his mind hasn’t been sitting idle all this time. The beginnings of a plan started to form while he was unconscious, and it has just about neatly tied itself off by now.

“Casey,” he says casually, though his intentions are nothing of the sort, “what do you say we take on this good-for-nothing egomaniac and get rid of him once and for all?”

She just blinks, looking up at him in confusion. Did he really just say what she thinks he said?

“Do you really think we could do it?” she replies in an awed whisper, hardly daring to believe it could be true.

“Hell yeah,” he replies flippantly. “In the words of Marty McFly, if you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything.”