Edenham Comprehensive

Casey wakes slowly the next morning, roused from a dream she didn’t want to end. The exact memory of it fades quickly, but the contented feeling doesn’t. Reluctantly, she hauls herself out of bed and pads into the bathroom. When she emerges, she dresses quickly, throwing on a pair of jeans and a hoodie since it’s pretty chilly outside.

Yawning, she trudges into the kitchen to make herself a bowl of cereal. This week’s going to be good, she thinks decisively. Seven whole days without Edenham. Without Tyler. Her idea of heaven, really.

She sits at the table, scooping the cereal out of the bowl and into her mouth. The peacefulness of the early morning hangs in the air, blown softly this way and that by the wind from the open window at the end of the hall.

And all at once, it’s shattered by the familiar tinkling laughter of her mother, and the low rumble of Ian’s voice. Casey stiffens as the two of them walk into the kitchen, too absorbed in themselves to notice her. All she can think is when did he turn up?

She flinches, disturbed, as they start kissing in front of her, and stares with unwarranted concentration at the bowl in front of her. She clears her throat, not particularly caring about being politeness.

“Do you mind?” she says, the warmth completely gone from her face. “I’m trying to eat here and I’m struggling to keep my stomach contents where they are.”

Smiling tightly, her mum disentangles herself from the baby-faced pimp and sits down opposite her daughter.

“Good morning Casey,” she greets her, still beaming.

“What’s good about it?” Casey mutters, not looking up.

Her mum looks taken aback for a few seconds, but forces herself to remember how to smile. “You’re a right laugh when you want to be, eh?” She glances at her boyfriend, then back at her daughter. “Ian and I were thinking of going to Alton Towers or something. You know, since it’s half-term. What do you think?”

“I think you can do whatever you want, as long as you don’t expect me to tag along and play happy families with you,” Casey replies acidly.

Her mum abandons all attempts at a smile. “Casey, can I have a word?”

Casey jumps to her feet, shoving her chair under the table. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

Her mum grits her teeth. “My room, now. Ian, stay here.”

She marches Casey into her room, careful to shut the door behind them so Ian can’t overhear what is inevitably going to become an argument.

“What is wrong with you?” she demands. “You were perfectly fine until you saw Ian. What is your problem with him?”

“How long have you got, Mum?” Casey says boredly.

She folds her arms across her chest stubbornly. “As long as it takes. All day if needs be.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t. I’m meeting Reuben later,” Casey informs her.

Her mum narrows her eyes at her. “Oh no you’re not. You’re not leaving here until you tell me what your problem is.”

Casey sighs, knowing her mum is equally as stubborn as her, if not worse. “Don’t you mean problems, plural?”

Her mum’s face softens slightly. “If this is about your dad-”

“This has nothing to do with that lying, cheating son of a bitch,” Casey spits, grinding her teeth together. “I hate him.”

Her mum winces. “So what is it, then? You never like my boyfriends, but you seem to have a personal vendetta against Ian.”

Casey slides down the wall into a sitting position. “I just don’t like him, Mum.”

She sighs, and sits next to her daughter. “You must have a reason.”

Casey jumps up immediately, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “Well I don’t! I hate him, and I bloody well hate you too! Go find someone else to play happy families with you!”

“Casey!” her mum admonishes, but she’s not listening. She shoves past her and storms across the flat.

“Casey, what’s going on?” Ian asks her, half-curious, half-terrified.

She turns a venomous glare on him, and he steps back as if she’s slapped him. Turning away, she stomps out of the flat, slamming the door with an almighty bang as she goes. She doesn’t even know where she’s going, but there’s not as if there are many places she can go.

The den looms up in front of her suddenly and she realises she’s been walking much faster than she thought. Shaking her head, she pushes open the door and shuts it much more calmly than she shut her own, though it still quakes slightly in the frame.

“Hey,” she greets Reuben, who’s sitting in the corner with a piece of paper and a pen. He’s frowning at the page, like he’s trying to get it to say something but it’s not cooperating.

“Hi,” he mumbles, looking up briefly to smile at her before returning his full attention to the piece of paper. “I’m trying to write a speech but it’s useless. I never was much good at writing.”

Casey squashes herself into the far corner by the books, and takes one down. “Forget it, then. Just say the first thing that comes out of your mouth. Let it... let it come from the heart.”

He gives her an incredulous look. “From the heart? Bloody hell, Casey. You sound like a fortune cookie.”

“Well excuse me for trying to help,” she mutters, burying her head in her book.

He doesn’t notice her bad mood; he’s too preoccupied with his speech. Or maybe he’s just pretending not to notice. Casey can’t tell. She forces herself to concentrate on the book, but the words don’t hold their spell any more. They can’t magic her into another world at the turn of the page, they can’t even hold her interest for longer than five seconds. Her head’s already got too much jostling around in it.

She tosses the book aside, sighing, and glances at her watch, then at the door. Another sigh escapes her lips. Her motions don't go unnoticed by Reuben, who shakes his head at her, but says nothing.

“When were people supposed to be here?” she asks, more out of a need to say something than any interest in the answer.

“Give it time, Casey. People are going to turn up,” he assures her. “They turned up yesterday, didn’t they?”

“I suppose.” She bites her lip, and looks up from the floor of the den. “I- I need a fag.”

Reuben sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought you gave up.”

“So did I.”

“At least do it outside, would you?” he remarks, suddenly crabby. “If you want to throw your life away on the end of a cigarette butt that's fine by me, but don't drag me down with you.”

“Fine,” she retorts, her eyes narrowed, and rises to her feet. She stomps past him, slamming the door shut behind her. Fumbling in her pocket, she digs out the virtually empty packet of cigarettes, glaring at the 'SMOKING KILLS' label. That's the last thing she needs right now.

She cups the cigarette in her palms to shield it from the wind and flicks her lighter. Inhaling sharply, she promptly starts coughing like a novice having their first smoke.

“Twat,” she mutters, but even she isn't sure who or what she's referring to.

Another drag and she calms down a little, but somehow she knows it isn't going to solve her problems. Not this time. First the books, now her cigarettes. Something’s desperately wrong with her. She blows a few smoke rings in front of her face, smiling with grim satisfaction.

As the smoke clears, she stiffens. There's people approaching, people she recognises from school. They're glancing around nervously, like they don't want to be seen. Reluctantly, she drops the cigarette to the floor and squashes it underfoot. She taps briskly on the door, letting Reuben know people are arriving, and turns back to greet them.

“Hi,” she mutters, as they come to a halt in front of her. “Go right in.”

Tentatively, they shuffle past her, squeezing into the den. It's not all that small, not really, and they should be able to fit around twenty people inside. They're not exactly expecting any more.

However, in the next half an hour, more and more people start arriving, mostly in groups, and it's growing ever more evident that they're not all going to fit. There's easily thirty-odd people squashed inside when Reuben practically falls out of the door in front of Casey, tripping over people by the door.

“I think we're going to have to move the meeting outside,” he murmurs, glancing back at the full-to-bursting shed.

“You don't say,” she mutters, her irritation making her antagonistic.

He just shakes his head, clearly deciding not to bother with her when she's in this mood. “I'll just tell everyone to move, shall I?”

“Do whatever you want; it's not like you need my permission to breathe,” she retorts, folding her arms across her chest.

“What is your problem, Casey?” he demands. “You've been in a right mood ever since you turned up.”

“Like you even care,” she says quietly, and turns away from him.

He just stands there, speechless. Then, deciding it's not his problem, he turns and heads back into the shed, forcing himself to smile.

“Guys, we're going to do this outside since we have such a great turn out,” he informs them. “You can't all fit in here, unless someone’s got a TARDIS in their pocket.”

A few people laugh, and Reuben smiles, encouraged. He steps away from the door and holds it open to allow people out, directing them to a patch of relatively dry grass not far off. Some people grumble under their breath, but most people do as their told with minimal fuss.

Reuben sits down and almost immediately, they gather around him, forming a semi-circle. He smiles uneasily, and tries to catch Casey's eye, but she's sitting somewhere on the fringe, invisible to his gaze.

People are buzzing impatiently, waiting for it all to begin, but he’s hesitant. There aren’t enough people, he tells himself, but he knows that’s not it. There’s plenty more than they expected. But something holds him back, a shard of reluctance that paralyses him.

“So, we might as well start, then,” he begins, but he's interrupted by a voice behind him.

“Is it too late for us to join?” comes a soft, oh-so-familiar voice.

Casey jumps up instantly, glaring at Nicole and Georgia. “Yes, actually,” she replies coldly. “We've already started.”

“Casey,” Reuben says wearily as he gets to his feet. To them, he says, “Sit down wherever there's room.”

Her mouth drops open, and she hurries over to him. “Reuben,” she hisses, “you can't seriously be considering letting these two join.”

He looks across at her, contempt glaring at her from his eyes. “We're not like Tyler. We don't discriminate against Grades. If they want to be here, we're not going to turn them away.”

“This is a mistake,” she warns him in a hushed undertone. “We can't trust them.”

“Look, we'll just go,” Georgia pipes up. “I didn't want to come anyway.”

She turns to leave, but Nicole grabs her arm and drags her back.

“You can stay,” Reuben assures them. He turns to Casey. “I'm not arguing with you now,” he hisses. “Sit down and shut up if you're just going to antagonise me.”

Speechless, she storms back to her space and plonks herself down, muttering under her breath. She glances up to see everyone staring at her, and glares at the ones closest to her before dropping her gaze to the floor again.

“Okay, where was I?” he mutters. “Oh yeah. So you’re all here because, for one reason or another, you oppose Tyler’s rule. Maybe you think it’s unjust what he does, or maybe, like me, you just plain don’t like the bloke.” There’s the laughter again, and his smile returns. “But I'm sure most of you don’t think we can do this. Most of you are convinced it’s impossible, trying to take down the self-appointed, self-declared, self-satisfied king. I'm telling you now, that isn't true.”

He sweeps the gathering with his gaze, letting the impact of his speech sink in.

“At the end of the day, Tyler’s just like us,” he continues. “He’s just a boy, a teenager. He’s only different because you allow him to be. This revolution... I'm not talking about going in, storming the school and toppling him from his throne. What I'm planning is so much simpler than that. You don’t even have to do very much. All you have to do is what he doesn’t want: think for yourselves. Do what you want to do, not what you’re told. Good old-fashioned anarchy. Talk to people you’re not supposed to, sit where you’re not supposed to, go where you’re not supposed to. It might sound obvious and a bit pointless, but trust me, it’s the little things that will have the most effect. If Tyler can’t control us, he’s effectively powerless.

“And another thing,” he adds, “these humiliation shows... it goes without saying that they’re out of order. And probably illegal. After half-term, we’re launching a school-wide boycott of them and the tuck shop. You don’t have to participate in them, but the more people who do, the more effective it’s going to be. Especially the humiliation shows. Because not only will it put a large dent in his finances, it’ll show him we’re not afraid to stand up for what is right. It’ll show him we’re not going to let him walk all over us any more or let him manipulate us to his own ends. We are the world and we are the people, and we will be heard*.”

There’s a pause after he’s finished speaking, a timeless, eternal gap in the fabric of time when complete silence envelopes the group. But then, quietly at first, someone brings their hands together and starts clapping. Like dominoes, others take up the applause and in the space of a few seconds, the entire congregation, save one or two people, are clapping like they’re never going to stop.

Blushing, Reuben waves his hands and slowly, they cease at his unspoken command.

“We don’t want anyone to get hurt,” he says softly, making sure to look at everyone in turn as he speaks. “That’s the last thing we want to happen. This is a peaceful, non-violent protest. We’ll not sink to Tyler's level. We’ll not let ourselves become like him. So if he does threaten you, if you are in danger for whatever reason, come to us. We will take any punishment that Tyler tries to give you. We have to stand together for this to work. Our strength is in our numbers and that is something Tyler doesn’t have.”

He smiles, and rises to his feet. This whole thing has gone so much better than he expected. It felt like he was repeating pretty much what was said yesterday, but since there were plenty of new faces, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. He definitely didn’t expect so many people to turn up.

“That’s it, really. I hope you all have a great holiday, whatever you’re doing. If anyone has any questions, feel free to stay back now and ask them. I’m going to ask for your contact details now, so if you could sign the sheet going round with your name and number, that would be great.” A few people look alarmed, but he only smiles. “Tyler won’t see this sheet. No one will, except us. It’s for information purposes only. Promise.”

They seem to relax at that, and there’s a few seconds faffing around looking for pens before the papers get filled with all manner of letters and numbers. Slowly, people start filing away, heading back to their own lives. It appears people don’t have many questions.

Make that most people. Nicole and Georgia are still here, hanging back some feet away. Georgia’s arms are folded and she looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here. Reuben guesses coming here was Nicole's idea.

“Hi,” he greets them, jogging over to them. “How did you find the meeting?”

“It was great,” Nicole replies, smiling. “Really inspirational.”

He smiles. “Thanks. And thanks for coming. It’s good to have your support. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you come? Not that we don’t want you here,” he adds hastily, in case she gets the wrong idea, “I just thought you of all people would be loyal to Tyler.”

Nicole smiles, but it’s as empty as her eyes. “He doesn’t own me. He thinks he does, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even love me; I'm just his bit of pretty hanging off his arm.”

Reuben winces. “Right. And you, Georgia?” he asks, not wanting to make her feel left out.

“I’m here because I had nothing better to do,” she replies, bored. Nicole elbows her. “And because I'm fed up of Tyler. He’s an arsehole.”

There’s a snort from behind them, and they turn to locate the source of the noise. Casey rises to her feet, her arms folded across her chest with hostility.

“You expect us to believe that?” she says derisively.

“Casey,” Reuben warns, but she’s not listening.

“Why are you even here? Because you want to make a difference?” she mocks.

“Is that so hard to believe?” Georgia says coolly.

“When it’s you two... yeah,” Casey replies. “You’re telling me you’re not going to go straight to Tyler when you leave here and tell him everything we’re planning?”

“Casey, that’s enough,” Reuben orders, glaring at her. “Leave them alone. Keep your petty problems out of this. They’re on our side, can’t you see that?”

Her mouth drops open and she stares at him. Nicole shifts uncomfortably, sensing the tension between them, but Georgia only smirks.

“Yeah, Casey,” she says innocently. “We’re on your side here. Why are you being so mean?”

Casey turns to Reuben, a pleading look in her eyes. “You’re taking their side against me?”

“I’m not taking sides against anyone,” he sighs. “Look, we’ll talk about this later.”

She shakes her head, smiling bitterly. “Fine. I’ll not stay where I’m not wanted.”

She storms off, her arms hugged across her chest. Reuben watches her go, his face assembled into a pained expression, and then turns back to Georgia and Nicole.

“I’m sorry about that,” he says apologetically. “She had no right to have a go at you like that.”

Georgia glares at him. “Too right. You should keep that girlfriend of yours on a tighter leash.”

“Georgia,” Nicole says, a note of warning in her voice. “It’s fine, Reuben. We weren’t expecting to be welcomed with open arms.”

“Well, I’m glad you came, and I hope to see you at future meetings. Have a good half-term, and see you back at school.”

“Yeah, see ya,” Georgia replies, bored. “Can we go now?”

Nicole offers Reuben an apologetic smile before allowing herself to be dragged away. He watches them walk away until the hems of their skirts have disappeared, and then turns around. Casey’s sitting cross-legged on the ground, picking at blades of grass. Sighing, he sits down next to her. Instantly, she turns and faces the other way. He sighs.

“Casey, what’s wrong?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Is this about Nicole and Georgia? Because you know, it’s good that they’re on our side. Nicole’s Tyler’s girlfriend, so she’s right in with him, and they’re both Grade 1s. Most of the people we have following us are Grade 3s, and their impact will be minimal compared to Grade 1s.”

“I know that.” She hates him for being sensible. She hates him for not understanding. “But you let them stay. After what they’ve done to me. After what they’ve bothdone to me.”

Sighing, he puts his arm around her. She shrugs it off. Something sparks behind his eyes.

“Casey, this isn’t about you,” he informs her, impatience making him cruel. “Not everything has to be about you, you got that? This is about the plan, getting rid of Tyler. Don’t you care about any of that?”

She doesn’t reply; she’s too busy blinking back the tears brimming in her eyes.

“You’ve been acting like a right moody bitch ever since you got here and it’s about time you got over whatever it is that’s pissed you off and realised what’s important,” he continues, contempt evident in his tone.

Laughing humourlessly, she jumps to her feet, swiping at her eyes. “You know what, I think I'll just piss off and leave you alone, since you obviously can’t stand being in my company.”

She storms off, leaving him standing there, shocked into silence.

***

“You sure that’s what he said?” Tyler doesn’t sound convinced.

His informant nods. “They want to take you down, but they’re not going to let anyone get hurt along the way.”

“And Casey’s definitely a part of it?”

They nod again. “Reuben’s the real leader, though. It might not be official, but you can tell.”

Tyler frowns, massaging his forehead. “Right. What about the others? Do you think you can get me the names of everyone at the meetings?”

They hesitate momentarily, just long enough for Tyler to notice. His eyes narrow.

“You follow my orders, you hear me?” he informs them, his voice dangerously low. “If your loyalties lie elsewhere...”

“Of course not.” They make sure to keep their voice neutral. “I follow your orders and no one else’s.”

“Good.” He gives them an almost-affectionate smile. “Now, my good little spy, go and do whatever it is you do in your free time. Your information has been very useful.”

The traitor rises to their feet slowly, their eyes fixed on Tyler, before they stride away.