Do You Remember the First Time?

boys here looked exactly like any group of lads you’d cross the road to avoid, full of the usual combustible mix of teenage fear, bravado, hormones and cider. Who’d be a teacher, I thought, not for the first time. At what point did that job get fun? Give me my boring, safe desk, computer, long lists of papers, any day. I can’t believe Iwas getting nostalgic for strip lighting and quarterly VAT returns.
    A collective ‘wooah’ went up from the room as I went in. Obviously they knew who I was and I doubted very much whether I’d been seen in here before. This was nuts. I couldn’t believe a bunch of complete strangers with a shared IQ of about forty-five knew more about my life than I did.
    ‘Hey, sexy baby. Wanna get some ed-u-cation?’ said one pimple-faced giant, slouching next to me and carving ‘FUCK’ slowly and methodically on the desk.
    ‘Yeah,’ shouted another one. ‘I’ll make you stay late … very late …’
    I raised my eyes. Soon they’d start boasting to each other about made-up sexual experiences and move on.
    ‘Haven’t seen you round here,’ said one skinhead.
    ‘Fresh meat!’ yelled someone else from the back of the class, to general amusement. Unbelievably, fucking Rolf stood by and just watched this happen. If this had been the office, Olly would have slapped the whole damn lot of them with a sexual harassment suit within fifteen seconds.
    I sat down. On the board, it said, ‘Essay topic: the usefulness of nothingness.’
    ‘Hey, baby, now you’re in with us, do you think you’ll be … letting it all hang out a bit more, yeah?’ whispered one sweaty voice behind me.
    ‘Get fucked,’ I said.
    There was a definite wooh. My heart was beating really hard. This was horrible. I couldn’t believe they would let people be so intimidating. It felt dangerous.
    ‘Are you swearing, Miss Scurrison?’
    Immediately I lost all the sympathy I had for this brokenman of a teacher and indulged a quick revenge fantasy that involved prison and limitless penance. And kicking.
    ‘No, sir,’ I said quickly, like a cowed dog.
    ‘Yeah, she was, sir.’
    ‘Do you want to pay a speedy return visit?’
    ‘No, sir.’
    He nodded and pointed to the board. ‘Better get on with it, then.’
    He left the room – the school had clearly deteriorated if they had to split detention in two. My face burned bright hot with fear and a sense of injustice; a whispering started up.
    ‘We’re going to get you, whore.’
    Jesus.
    Suddenly, there was a cracking noise. It sounded like somebody smacking somebody else hard on the knuckles with a ruler.
    ‘Fuck,’ said the same voice.
    ‘Shut the fuck up,’ said another, near-familiar one. ‘Do you want to get done for sexual harassment, or just spend the rest of your life here?’
    ‘Wot?’
    ‘Just shut it, OK?’
    I risked a look behind me, and nearly had a heart attack. When I’d come in I hadn’t even raised my eyes from the floor and taken the first seat at the front. Which was why I hadn’t noticed the boy currently holding another boy by the ear and threatening to swat him with a ruler.
    ‘Fucking lanky bastard,’ said the lout, but he returned quietly to his reading.
    Justin Clelland’s eyes met mine. He betrayed – of course – no knowledge of me, beyond me being some girl he’d seenaround. There was no interest, no enquiry, suspicion or flirting. I, by contrast, knew I was gawping. This boy looked so like Clelland in his school uniform I wanted to throw up.
    ‘Thanks,’ I said.
    He shrugged and retook his seat directly behind me.
    ‘Flora,’ I said, putting out my hand. He stared at it. Maybe handshaking doesn’t start till later.
    Eventually he took it. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘You hang around with that dark-haired crazy girl.’ I nodded. ‘And you’re Justin.’
    He nodded politely. Of course, he must be a year ahead of me. Oddly, and I guess perhaps it had something to do with my being a couple of inches shorter, he didn’t look quite the droopy, grumpy teenager he had at Tashy’s wedding. Compared to the rest of the greasy Neanderthals whose features hadn’t dropped into place yet, he was tall, smooth-skinned, with soft, baby-fine curls, and calm grey eyes just like his brother’s. On the whole, I suspected he was a bit of a school heart-throb.
    ‘What are you in for?’ I whispered.
    ‘I protested against another year where they refused to order recycled textbooks. They didn’t take it too well.’ Awww,