Verboten

Jack sighed as he surveyed his form that morning. There was no sign of Alex, but he guessed that the boy could be late. He’d never been so far, though. He saw Amy trying to check her phone inconspicuously (obviously not very successfully, as Jack had seen her) and then frown. He opened up the online register and took the roll-call quickly – there was no illness or allowed absence mark. He read out the notices quickly and allowed the form to chat amongst themselves. He snaked through the desks to Amy, crouching down next to her chair. “Do you know where Alex is?” he asked quietly.

Amy bit her lip as she shook her head. “I tried to text him earlier,” she confessed, “but I haven’t had a reply. I know he’s probably just ill or something….but with all of his problems I don’t like to think of him alone at home.”

Jack nodded and straightened back up. “Let me know if he texts back, Amy. His parents haven’t phoned in about anything so…” He spread his arms wide, in a gesture of hopelessness.

LINE BREAK

Jack sat in his first lesson with his phone out and his chat with Alex open. He had set his Year Sevens some work to do and they were happily getting on with it, albeit a little noisily. He had sent a message to Alex asking where he was and if he was okay, and now he was drumming his fingers on the table-top with worry.

Jack ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes, glancing over the class quickly to check that everyone was still working. After telling off one of the boys for threatening another one with a pair of scissors, Jack strode to the cupboard and pulled out the Year Ten books he was in the middle of marking. Typically, the first book on the pile was Alex’s and Jack felt a lump rise in his throat, scraping painfully.

He threw himself back into his seat and pulled his book open, smiling at the familiar scrawl of handwriting. He picked up his red pen and busied himself.

LINE BREAK

The bell rang, signifying the end of period 6 and the students stampeded out of the room. Jack waved them off and smiled at the few that took the time to thank him for the lesson, before picking up his duffel bag and loading it with books. There was a shy knock at the door, and he looked up as Amy approached.

“Hey, sir,” she said. “Um, Alex texted back about ten minutes ago, he just said he isn’t in the best shape and that you’d understand…?” She raised an eyebrow, obviously wondering why Jack would know.

“Yeah, I do.” Jack deliberated between giving Amy a false reason or just leaving it at that. “He said yesterday he thought he was coming down with something, so I suppose it’s that.”

Clarity clouded over the confusion on Amy’s face, and she grinned as she exited the room, yelling over her shoulder, “Bye, Mr. Barakat!”

Jack slung the rest of the books into his bag and then grabbed his jacket. The room was relatively tidy, so he decided to let the cleaners do the vacuuming and dusting, and locked the door after him.

As he headed towards his car, he considered whether to visit Alex at home – after what had happened last night, he really wanted to make sure he was in one piece – but if his parents were home, the situation would be worsened. In the end, Jack risked it and turned towards Alex’s estate.

LINE BREAK

The doorbell rang and there was the muffled sound of footsteps. A few seconds later, Alex answered the door. He was wrapped in his duvet and just in boxers. Jack choked on his gasp as he tried to keep his shock internal.

He could only really see his face, and it was puffy and bruised. A fine scratch ran down the side of his face, starting at the centre of his forehead and splicing his left eyebrow, ending at his chin. It looked bloody and sore. His right eye was swollen and purple and his nose looked red and engorged.

“Jack,” he said in surprise, his voice choked and hoarse. When Jack looked closely, he could see faint bruises on his neck, not too bad but still visible.

“Oh, Alex,” Jack sighed sorrowfully and stepped into his house. Alex stumbled back instinctively and nearly fell; he winced and let a soft groan pass his lips. Jack glanced down and saw a swollen ankle to be the culprit. “Do you want to come back to mine?” Jack asked gently.

Alex nodded silently and let a solitary tear fall from his eye to his cheek to the floor. “I need to get dressed,” he muttered, and turned to go up the stairs.

“I’ll go,” Jack offered, rubbing the younger boy’s shoulder. “What do you want?”

“Just some pyjamas,” Alex replied, swaying slightly and leaning against the wall for support. Jack nodded and headed up the stairs, looking left and right when he reached the landing to try and locate Alex’s room. He spotted a crowded bookshelf through one of the doors, along with music sheets, and grinned as he headed in.

He located his wardrobe and opened one of the drawers that were at the bottom, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and T-shirt. He looked around Alex’s room for a few seconds – he didn’t want to keep the boy waiting in pain – and took in the posters that lined the walls, the messy bed and the guitars propped against the wall.

“Hey,” Jack said as he thumped back down the stairs, handing Alex the pyjamas. He received a muttered, “Thanks,” from his students and entered the living room to give him some privacy as he changed. Jack spotted a pad of paper – the small, square, plain kind – and pulled a pen from his jacket pocket.

He waited a few seconds before he went back into the hall, relieved and oddly frustrated to see his student fully dressed. There were more scratches and bruises on his arms, and when Alex stretched gingerly Alex saw neat, long cuts on his hips: self-harm rather than his father. They were recent.

“Here,” Jack said gently. “Leave a note saying you’ve gone to a friend’s for a sleepover.”

Alex raised his eyes and met Jack’s. “Am I staying the night at yours?”

Jack nodded gently. “I’m not letting you stay here.”

Alex smiled and scribbled something on the pad that Jack was offering him, placing it on the hall table and picking up his phone. “Come on,” Jack said gently, guiding Alex out to the car.