Edenham Comprehensive

It's lunch and Casey's leaning against a wall, keeping a wary eye on the students prancing around on the playground in front of her. It's a protest of some sort, she thinks. Well, that's what Reuben said, anyway, and when she tried to question him about it earlier he just gave her this long-suffering look and said, “Case, just do it, please? We need to make people feel like they're doing something.”

And there was something else in his eyes, too, something she didn't like but couldn't name, so she just nodded and left it at that.

To be honest, doing what Reuben says isn't such a terrible idea. Today has, for the most part, gone really well. There was one terrifying moment earlier in registration when their form tutor mentioned the placards with a suspicious glance in Reuben and Casey's direction, but Reuben managed to appease him with an obviously rehearsed, “It's for a history project, sir, to replicate what happens during protests.”

And that was that. Casey let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and Reuben flashed her a smile as if to say, “See. I've got it all under control.”

She doesn't doubt that. She doesn't doubt that one bit.

Casey shivers, a little, and draws her jacket closer around her body. Her gaze flickers across the playground, seeking out something, she's not sure what. Tyler's nowhere to be seen, unsurprisingly; he's either hiding out inside somewhere or he's left school grounds, maybe to try and figure out how on earth this is happening.

Pushing away the sharp stab of guilt in her gut, she pulls her hand out of her pocket to fold her arms across her pocket. There's something clutched between her fingers, though, something small and roughly cuboid-shaped, and she doesn't even have to look at it to know it's the packet of cigarettes she snuck into her bag this morning.

She hasn't touched one in forever, it seems. She doesn't even know why she brought it, or why she's holding the packet like some kind of lifeline. Maybe it's the familiarity of it, she thinks with a wistful smile. It's not like she regrets giving up, not at all, but a part of her wants to rip open the packet, take out a fag and just-

“Hi Casey.”

Casey jumps, startled, and slips the pack hastily back into her pocket as she fashions a smile onto her lips. Georgia's standing in front of her, looking bored but vaguely cheerful nonetheless.

“Reuben asked me to come check on you,” she informs her, answering the question knotted between Casey's eyebrows. “He would've done it himself but he's busy.”

Casey just nods. “Right. 'Course.”

Georgia nods too, and then sort of attaches herself to the wall next to Casey.

“Look, Casey,” Georgia starts, sounding uncomfortable as she taps her foot against the tarmac, “I- I kind of- I think I-” She blows out a breath between her teeth, shakes her hair out of her eyes.

Casey tilts towards her, half-curious, half-confused. “What, Georgia?”

“I'msorryIwassuchabitchtoyou,” she blurts out, her eyes fixed on the ground at her feet.

Casey's eyes widen; she didn’t understand a word of that. “What?”

Georgia clears her throat pointedly, then tries again. “I'm sorry,” she repeats, more slowly this time, “you know, for- for treating you like shit for the past year. You never did anything to deserve that.”

“What?” Casey repeats, still convinced she's hearing things.

Georgia shifts from foot to foot, rubbing the back of her neck. “Don't make me say it again, please,” she mutters. “It was painful enough the first time.”

“Um, well. I, uh, I don't know what to say.” Casey clears her throat, too, but it doesn't help her any. “I'm sorry too, I guess. I wasn't exactly nice to you, you know, before.”

Georgia nods, though 'not exactly nice' doesn't even come close to describing the way Casey treated her, before. Maybe she never got physical, not like Georgia did, but sometimes a few well-chosen words hurt a lot more than a good beating.

“Neither was I, to be fair. We've never really got on, have we?” she says, her voice light, but Casey isn't fooled. Still, she only gives a vague nod of agreement. “Shame, really. Do you think- do you think we could be friends?”

“Uh, sure,” Casey replies, still uncertain, but she isn't given long to consider her decision because then Georgia's sort of twisting a little to step forward, her arms winding around Casey's body to pull her into a very awkward hug.

If Casey was shocked before, it's nothing compared to the complete bewilderment currently spreading from somewhere near her middle to the rest of her body. Georgia is hugging her. Huggingher. The only person Casey's ever seen Georgia hug, like properly hug, is Reuben, and that hardly counts because Reuben's that kind of guy who’ll just hug anyone ‘cause he's just that friendly.

Georgia, on the other hand, is anything but. And there's the little factor to take into consideration that Georgia hates her guts.

Or at least, she used to. Now? Casey honestly doesn’t know any more.

“Okay,” Georgia says suddenly, stepping back several inches, “that was awkward.”

Casey nods her fervent agreement, still trying to get over the fact that Georgia just huggedher. “Did Reuben put you up to this?”

Georgia looks sheepish as she runs her fingers through her hair. “Yeah. He said we're a team now, the three of us, and he didn't want there to be any awkwardness between us.”

Casey arches an eyebrow, but figures it wouldn't be very friendly of her to demand to know exactly when Georgia became part of their 'team', so she only says, “Right, okay. Fair enough, I suppose.”

“He's a great guy, Reuben is,” Georgia says, and Casey wouldn't think anything of it because really, Reuben is a great guy, most of the time, except Georgia's staring off into the distance with this strange little look in her eyes, and she sounds sort of... wistful? “He really cares about you, you know,” she continues, her eyes narrowed as they flick to Casey.

She glances away, frowning. “Yeah. I know.”

“It was really stupid, what you did. With Tyler,” Georgia clarifies, and for a minute Casey wonders how she knows, but then she realises: Reuben. He must have told her.

“Yeah. I know,” Casey repeats, pushing aside the unpleasant feelings that surface at this realisation. And she knows she has no right to be, but a part of her can't help but be a little jealous that Reuben talked to Georgiaabout what happened, confided in her, told her the things he wouldn't - couldn't? - tell Casey.

“For the record, though,” Georgia says, slowly, “I get it. I understand. Tyler is...” She gives a short bark of laughter, shaking her head ruefully. “Well, he's Tyler. Just- just don't put all your eggs in one basket, okay?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Casey frowns, suspicion creasing her brow.

Georgia shrugs. “I don't know, it just sounded clever. One of them adverb things, you know?”

“You mean proverbs,” Casey corrects her.

Georgia waves a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah, same thing.”

And this is starting to make Casey uncomfortable, more uncomfortable than she'd care to admit. She says, quickly, before Georgia can continue, “Reuben seems to really care about you too, you know.”

Georgia chuckles, pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. “This is Reuben we're talking about. He really cares about pretty much everyone. That's why he's doing this.” And Casey wants to push it, test the water, see if her earlier suspicions are indeed correct, but something in the stiffness of Georgia's body stops her. “He's a great guy,” Georgia repeats, her face unreadable. “He's just a really great guy.”

Casey looks away, her gaze settling on a group of people on the other side of the playground, and wishes for the umpteenth time that her life was less complicated.

***

All in all, Reuben muses as he makes his way out of school at the end of the day, it's been a huge success. It's just like last week when Tyler was absent for a day but it's a million times better because he’s still hereand people are still doing what they want, being what they want, and not letting his stupid rules get in the way. It's enough to put a smile on his face and a spring in his step and inspire a fragile flutter of hope somewhere in his chest.

As he passes the tree stump on his left, someone grabs him roughly by his rucksack and drags him back against a wall. It's Tyler, of course; Reuben knows it's him before he's given a chance to look. The other boy looks a little dishevelled, tufts of hair sticking up all over his head, but apart from that he looks perfectly calm, his face carefully composed as if he just knowsthat's what would piss Reuben off most.

Narrowing his eyes, Reuben tugs himself free of the other boy's grip. “Tyler,” he says evenly, unable to help the smirk that forms on his lips. “Having a good day?”

The glare Tyler shoots him is hateful and intense and definitely, definitely not composed. “I want the money back,” he declares, his eyes taking on a crazed look. “Do what you like with the stall, the people, the whole bloody school even. You can have it all but I need the money you took.”

Reuben's eyebrows rise. “Really? What for, exactly?”

Tyler licks his lips, his eyes darting around wildly. “My sister.”

Reuben laughs then, long and hard and mocking. “Sure. Of course it is.”

“It is!” Tyler protests. “She needs m- she needs it. For treatment.”

Shaking his head, Reuben makes as if to leave, but Tyler grabs him by the front of his shirt and pulls him close. “You don't understand,” he hisses. “I-”

“He bothering you, Reuben?” comes a familiar voice. Reuben turns to see Marty and his friends looming over Tyler, who promptly lets Reuben go like he's scalded by their collective glare.

Reuben smiles easily and waves a hand. “Nothing I can't handle,” he assures them, his eyes flicking to Tyler. “I've got it under control.”

It's Tyler's turn to let out a laugh, high-pitched and airing on the side of hysterical. “That's what you think. Let's see how in control you are when people start turning on you.”

“What, like they've turned on you?” Reuben replies evenly, allowing himself a small smile when Tyler flinches.

“You haven't won yet,” Tyler says, his voice soft, almost pitiful. “And I intend to make sure you don't.”

“How, exactly? Nearly the whole school's against you, Tyler,” Reuben points out, his voice sharp and matter-of-fact. “No one's on your side any more.”

“Oh really?” Tyler smirks, his head tilting to one side with an old, familiar confidence. “I wouldn't be so sure of that.”

Reuben narrows his eyes, a retort already forming on his lips but Marty gets there first.

“I would,” he says simply. “No one likes you. No one ever has, not really. But everyone likes Reuben because he's nice and he cares and he isn't going to screw us over like you did. You're alone, Tyler. You're alone.”

Tyler looks shocked, a little, and very much like he wants to put that mouthy Grade 2 back in his place, but he only chuckles and turns to Reuben. “You inspire such loyalty, Reuben,” he says, and it could be a perfectly innocent comment were it not for the gleam in his hardened eyes. “I wonder if they'd be willing to die for you.”

“I don't know and frankly I don't want to know,” Reuben says quickly before either of the others can answer for him. “I would never ask that of anyone.”

Tyler just smiles. Tipping Reuben a wink, he turns and strolls away, whistling cheerfully.

Once he's disappeared out of sight, Reuben turns to Marty and his friends. “You didn't have to do that,” he says awkwardly. “I was doing fine by myself.”

Marty shrugs. “No problem, man. We've all got to look out for each other now. We would, by the way,” he adds. “Die for you, I mean. We all would.” And the other three are nodding, a vaguely familiar look mirrored in each of their eyes.

It takes Reuben a few minutes to realise it's adoration. It takes another few for him to recognise it as the look given to Tyler by his loyal subjects back when he had control of them.

He forces himself to smile, trying to ignore the sudden queasiness in his stomach. “Thanks,” he says awkwardly. “That's, um, that's good to know. Uh, I should probably go now. Casey's waiting for me.”

They call out a collective goodbye as Reuben hurries off without another word. Sure enough, Casey's waiting by the gates, her arms folded across her chest.

“Where've you been?” she demands once he's stopped in front of her. “I've been waiting for you for- hey, did something happen?”

Reuben's weak, pallid smile drops off his face. “Just Tyler,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “He... said a few things.” The look on her face lets him know he's not going to get away with just that, so he reluctantly recounts their confrontation, including Marty's admission at the end. “How does he always manage to get the upper hand, Case? How?”

Her face softens and she pulls him into a hug. “It's just what he does,” she assures him. “Don't let him bother you.”

“He does, though,” he mumbles into her neck. “He does.” Casey bites her lip, but doesn't say anything, only holding him closer to her. When she finally releases him, he's smiling tentatively. “Screw him, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Casey agrees.

“We did really good today, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, we did,” she replies, and somehow it sounds like an assurance and somehow that is exactly what Reuben needs. “We need to do something about the fights, though.”

“Hmm?” he says, distracted.

“They’re breaking out all over the place,” she informs him, shaking her head with marked disapproval. “Mostly between Grade 1s and 3s.”

“Don’t- don’t call them that,” Reuben says, “please.”

Casey frowns. “How else are we supposed to distinguish between them?”

“Maybe we’re not supposed to,” he says quietly. “We’re all just people, Case. Just students. Not Grade anythings.”

And she opens her mouth to argue but there’s something soft and serious in his darkened eyes and narrowed lips and she realises then how much this means to him. “Okay, Reuben. Okay.”

He smiles, a relieved sort of tugging of his lips, and glances away. “The fights’ll stop soon enough. People are just getting the anger out of their system, working on the issues they’ve had bottled up for, what, years? It’s good for them.”

Casey nods, but she doesn’t look very convinced. “If you say so. You told Georgia to make friends with me.”

Reuben seems taken aback by the abrupt change of subject. “Uh, yeah, I did. Should I not have?”

She clicks her tongue, frowning. “No, it’s just- it was a bit of a shock, really. I didn’t even think the two of you were very good friends.” He just shrugs, and she gives him a level look. “You aren’t-”

“No, Casey,” he interrupts, his voice sharp, “we’re not. Not that it’d be any of your business if we were. But we’re not.”

“Shame,” she says, and she honestly means it. She does. “You’d be pretty good together.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, in that tone of voice that suggests he doesn’t agree at all and thinks something entirely different. “Yeah.”

Casey squeezes his shoulder, offering him a brief smile, and the two of them set off home.