Drake the Dragonboy (2 page)

“Go on then, fire breath … puke. I dare you,” taunted Barry. Juniper had a problem called Tourette Syndrome where, when she got nervous and at random other times she would breathe fire. Only some dragonfolk were left with the ability to breathe fire and it was considered extremely rude and barbaric to breathe fire in public. Anything that reminded dragonfolk that they were descended from animals was considered impolite. People didn't know a lot about Tourette, and it was pretty rare, so many people just thought she was a very naughty little girl.

Before any more could come of this, the siren rang to announce that class had ended. Chairs, tables and feet screeched as the students picked up their belongings and moved out of the room. Drake sighed. Now he had to go to Geography, his least favourite class with his least favourite teacher, Mr Roche. The only good thing was that Juniper was also in his Geography class and Barry Reed wasn't.

Drake waited back, casually packing up his books, until everyone had rushed out of the room and stormed into the hallway. Waiting a few minutes now meant that he could walk down the corridor without being squashed. He wandered down the hallway watching kids darting into rooms for their next class. He was going to be a bit late for Geography but he didn't really care. Mr Roche would spend the first part of class revising what they did last week, anyway. That's after he talked about himself for a while and what he and his wife had done on the weekend. As if anybody cared.

Drake opened his locker using his six digit code and then a thumbprint. He'd added the thumbprint scanner himself just for fun and not because there was anything at all secret in his locker. His locker couldn't have been more boring: books, his lunchbox, sports clothes (which he often claimed he'd forgotten) and his computer (which he wasn't allowed to take to class). On the back of the door, he had a picture of Dragonboy wearing a striking red cape and thigh-high rocket boots. Most other boys had sports heroes or movie stars but he couldn't think of either that he liked enough to look at every day, so cartoon star Dragonboy it was.

Swapping his science books for his Geography books, Drake slammed the door shut and headed in the direction of the Geography room. He stopped off at the toilets on the way, forgetting that these were the tough kids' toilets. As he walked in, he cursed himself for not remembering. There was Barry Reed and his gang smoking in the corner. The cigarette hanging out the side of his puffy mouth made him look like a serious thug. Where were teachers when you needed them? He sighed and tried to look indifferent as he sidled into the cubicle.

Just when Drake had relaxed a little thinking Barry hadn't noticed him there was a loud thump on the door that made him jump at a very unfortunate time, leaving a wet patch on his thermal suit. He zipped up his suit, took a gulp of air and opened the cubicle door, trying to look his tallest.

“Hi doof, nice clothes,” Barry jeered. Drake hoped he wouldn't look down and see the wet patch.

“Thanks, Barry. They're very comfortable.” And then Barry looked him up and down, immediately seeing the dark wet circle.

“Look, doof wet himself,” Barry said to his two friends, Grollo and Hark, who looked like smaller imitations of Barry, with the same short spiked-up hair and black t-shirts with pictures of bands they had probably never heard of but sounded tough. Drake tried to look brave but his bottom lip quivered. He was upset that he'd have to walk in to Geography really late with a wet circle on his suit.

“Ohhhh, poor wittle Drake. Don't worry; we can help you with that.” And before Drake had time to react Barry had pulled a knife out of his pocket, grabbed Drake and, pulling the suit material away from Drake's skin, he sliced out the circle, leaving a big hole right under his crutch. Barry, Grollo and Hark laughed madly, doubling over, while Drake, after a moment's shock, ran as fast as he could out of the toilets and back to his locker.

With tears in his eyes, Drake took his sports jumper and tied it around his middle, covering up the hole. Hopefully, no-one would notice, so long as Barry didn't point it out to them. It was turning out to be a really bad day. If only he wasn't so much of a wimp. So much for survival of the smartest — Miss Tess was wrong about that! The big tough dumb animal had won this round.

Drake felt heavy all over as he trudged to his Geography room. He peeked into the room and saw everyone was in their seats, listening to Roche the Cockroach, except for two people, Ronan and him. And Ronan was always wagging, so he didn't count. He took a deep breath and slid open the door as quietly as he could. It wasn't quietly enough because everybody turned around and looked at him. He sidled into his chair.

“Nice of you to join us, Drake,” said Roche. “You'll be staying after class.” Roche grimaced at the end of his sentence as he realised that he would now have to spend extra time with Drake, whom he really didn't like. Drake made him uncomfortable.

“Yes, Mr Roche,” said Drake, his head down as he got his books out onto the desk.

“Today we're talking about the world being flat. There have been some ridiculous theories recently that the world is not flat. That it is in fact, round! How stupid. Can anyone tell me what would make someone think something so ridiculous?”

Everybody sat silently, looking toward the ground so that Mr Roche didn't catch their eye. Drake was still shuffling with his books.

“Drake, you can tell me … since you've only just decided to grace us with your presence.” Drake hesitated for a moment but then not knowing how to get out of answering, told what he thought was the truth.

“Well, sir, there are some pretty notable scientists who believe that the world is round … and that beyond the wasteland, there is more land … and there may even be other types of life out there.”

“Cool,” said a chorus of voices. Mr Roche's fist slammed down on the desk in front of Drake.

“For that smart response you will be staying in for detention after school and not at lunch time … only it will have to be tomorrow as I am getting my haircut tonight.”

Mr Roche continued talking and writing on the board, barely managing to turn his head to look at the class, let alone involve them in the lesson.

“As I was saying, our world is flat. What you can see is all there is. You look out in each direction and you see the edge of the world … either wasteland or ocean reaching out to the end, depending on which way you look. Beyond that there is nothingness … scary, horrible, terrifying nothingness. The opposite, my friends, to life.” He said the word life slowly while staring at Drake.

Drake started to drift off to sleep. Roche's voice sounded like a dog with a sore throat and it was warm in the room. He awoke to a loud bang on the desk.

“Drake come up the front and write down the last five words I said on the board.” Drake jumped up, forgetting about the hole in his suit, and his jumper fell down onto the floor. He walked up to the front, winding between the desks and wrote on the board, “Last five words I said.” He turned around and stood to the side of his handiwork. Everyone was laughing. He thought it was at his funny joke on Mr Roche and grinned proudly. Then he looked down and saw the big hole in his suit and his red undies showing through. He looked at the class all laughing and pointing. Juniper was sitting right at the front in the centre. Drake wanted the ground to eat him for dinner.

Juniper's face was red and her expression strangely contorted. Then able to contain herself no more she let out a huge roar of fire straight towards Drake's groin. The fire engulfed his middle and his suit designed not to melt onto skin, peeled away from his skin, stopping the fire from spreading but also leaving Drake naked around the middle. Completely naked.

The class was now in uproar. People were laughing so hard they had fallen off their chairs. Others seemed to be suffocating with laughter, gulping for air. Mr Roche was furious and yelling at the top of his lungs.

“You,” he said pointing to Juniper. “You have a detention tomorrow now too. And don't give me any of that Tourette rubbish. Good excuse that is to indulge in your barbaric behaviour.” He then took his jacket off and hurled it at Drake. “Put this around you and keep it when you finish. I don't want anything back that's been there.” He pointed at Drake's naked middle. “Class dismissed!” he said dramatically throwing his hands in the air and storming out.

Drake wrapped the jacket around his middle and ran straight home without even stopping to get his homework from his locker. Good thing his dad was visiting tonight. He really needed some support from him. He was relieved to see the two-storey cottage with its white picket fence and row of roses and chillies planted in turn.

Drake discovered when he arrived home that his mother had baked an enormous chocolate cake covered with marshmallows and chillies. It was Drake's favourite but when he saw it his heart sank.

“Dad's not coming tonight, is he?”

“No, sweet, I'm afraid his secretary called to say that he's just too busy. I'm sure he'll make it up to you. Have some cake.” Drake's mum was short and soft-looking, with kind large brown eyes, long eyelashes and a head of large wild orange curls. Drake was grateful that he'd inherited his dad's hair, even if it wasn't perfect.

“Thanks Mum.” Drake walked up to his room before his mum could notice that he was wearing Roche's jacket. He didn't want to have to explain. He took off the pieces of his dad's outfit and put on some normal clothes. He sighed. Everything was dreadful. It couldn't get any worse. He'd made a fool of himself in front of everyone. It was like one of those dreams you have when you were in front of the class naked … only it was real. Everyone in the school would know by now and tomorrow everyone would be laughing at him. They'd be sticking notes on his back and calling him ‘naked boy' or something cleverer than he could think up himself. And he had made a fool of himself in front of Juniper. He cringed at the memory of standing up there grinning like an idiot. And he had to face her in detention tomorrow night. He groaned loudly. Then his stomach groaned loudly.

He went downstairs and ate some cake to keep his mum and his stomach happy and then went back to his room and went to bed. He wondered why he had to say such stupid things. And why did his dad have so many things to do that were more important than him? Maybe if he didn't say so many stupid things, he thought, his dad might have more time for him. He covered his head with his blankets, wallowing in self-pity, and cried himself to sleep.

T
he next day started off pretty much as expected. Drake arrived at school to everyone laughing and pointing and calling him nudie-boy. They couldn't think of anything cleverer. A group of popular girls started waggling their little fingers at him and then that caught on so that everywhere he went he was met by waggling little fingers. He realised how few real friends he had that day. He had no-one to sit with to wait for classes to start. Not a single person. Normally he kind of clung onto a group of smart kids, standing at the edge of their group listening or looking as if he were listening. Today they moved away from him, annoyed by the constant jeering interrupting their conversations.

Drake was pleased when the bell rang and he could go to class. Even better, it was Science with Miss Tess. Today they were dissecting a virtual Quanta.

“Couldn't we dissect a real one, Miss Tess? This is boring,” Barry said.

“Well, sure, if you could catch one for us,” said Miss Tess. Barry just looked at her stupidly.

Miss Tess must have heard about Drake's mishap the day before because she was extra nice to him. She came over and praised his work and smiled and her eyes showed sympathy.

The rest of the day passed by Drake as if he were watching a movie. He lumbered around the school feeling as if he were observing rather than participating. That is probably what got him through the day and into Room 8C for detention. Roche was sitting at the front of the room with his arms folded, leaning back in his chair. He was wearing checked trousers and a waist jacket to match. His new haircut was super short, leaving little side-burns that almost joined onto his red moustache.