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Authors: Sophie McKenzie

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‘Nat, you’re so funny.’ Rosa nudged my arm as we walked up the rest of the stairs. ‘Hey, d’you want to hear my big news?’

‘What is it?’ I was barely listening. I’d just spotted a private message from Saxon66. It read:

London MEETING next Tuesday, 7pm. Stand by for details.

Iron Right

Iron Might

Iron Will

‘. . . and she’s in our house too,’ Rosa finished with a flourish, as we reached the top of the stairs.

I glanced at her blankly. I’d missed most of what she’d said. This was it. I had an actual time. The meeting was next week. It was going to happen.

‘Uh-huh,’ I said.

‘Were you listening to me?’ Rosa demanded.

‘Course,’ I lied.

‘What did I say then?’

I forced myself away from my phone.

‘Sorry, I’ve got to get to Maths.’ I felt a brief stab of guilt as I hurried off, but a moment later I’d forgotten all about Rosa as I bent over my phone again, full of
excited anticipation.

Charlie

I was relieved Rosa wasn’t in my Maths class. It turned out Newbury Park put people into sets for just about everything and, despite my lack of interest in school over
the past few months, I was down to be in the top group.

On the other hand it did mean I had to deal with everyone’s pity all on my own. A couple of girls stopped me in the corridor as I checked my timetable. It was hard to follow, much like the
map I’d also been given.

‘Hi, Charlie,’ one said. She smiled at my look of surprise that she knew my name. ‘Rosa told us about you.’

‘Sorry about your mum,’ said the other girl. She peered at me intently. ‘Were you actually
there
when it happened?’

I was used to this. Back in Leeds there had been a succession of people asking about Mum dying in the bomb. They all started out by saying how sorry they were but, in the end, it was obvious
they didn’t really care about me at all, they just wanted a load of gossip they could spread around.

‘I don’t want to talk about my mum,’ I said.

The two girls exchanged a swift glance.

‘Rosa said you were still really, really upset.’ The girl’s voice exuded treacle-thick sympathy.

Irritation rose inside me.

‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘I’m just trying to find my Maths class. I’m with Mr Pritchard.’

The girls looked at each other again then back at me. The second girl curled her lip.

‘Oh, sorry,’ she said, sarcastically. ‘We’re not in that lesson.’

‘Good.’ The word was out of my mouth before I could snatch it back.

‘Fine.’ They sniffed, stuck their noses in the air and stalked off.

I sighed. Why did stuff like that always happen around me? I hurried on, looking for the right room.

Nat

I reached the classroom at the same time as Mr Pritchard and stood back to let him through the door. As he strode to the front the class took their seats. I slipped into my
usual spot at the back. Callum leaned across from the next desk and asked in a whisper if I wanted to play football after school. I nodded. I could easily spare a couple of hours in the park so
long as Jas bought some pasta and sauce on her way home. I needed to remind her to get some milk as well. I scanned the room, wondering where she was sitting. We never sat together in class. Jas
said it was because we had enough of each other at home but sometimes I wondered if she minded always being seen as ‘less academic’ than me. I’d won a full scholarship to Newbury
Park while Jas had got in on a music bursary, because she used to play the piano. She had always struggled to stay in the top Maths set, though thanks to her hard work she was still here.

After a moment or two I saw her. She was sitting right at the front of the class, copying something down in a notebook. As I watched her, struck by how hard she was concentrating, a girl passed
my desk. Someone new, with masses of wild, curly hair down her back. The girl hurried over to Mr Pritchard and a vague memory stirred deep inside me. I stared at the back of her head, wishing she
would turn around so I could see her face.

Callum nudged my arm. ‘Hot, isn’t she?’ he said under his breath.

I opened my mouth, wanting to ask Callum who the girl was, but Mr Pritchard was peering around the room, ready to begin. He was ultra strict about not talking in class and if I got another
detention I might have to stay after school next Tuesday. I couldn’t risk that. For all I knew the League of Iron meeting would be held on the other side of London. My travel card only
covered the bus, which meant it could take hours to get to wherever I needed to be.

‘Ah, Charlotte Stockwell, welcome,’ Mr Pritchard said, holding out his hand.

The girl hesitated a moment, as if she wasn’t used to shaking hands. She was standing at the front of the class with her back to the room. I shivered, a feeling of dread creeping over me.
I’d definitely seen this girl before somewhere, but the memory remained just out of reach. Beside me, Callum sniggered.

‘Charlie,’ the girl said, shaking Mr Pritchard’s hand at last.

‘Charlie.’ Mr Pritchard smiled. ‘Take a seat, I’ll come over when I’ve set some work.’

The girl nodded. Then she turned around and headed for the nearest empty desk. She was strikingly pretty, with high cheekbones and a strong chin. My stomach dropped away as I remembered where
I’d seen her before: in the market, a few minutes after the bomb had gone off, her mouth open in a scream.

The memory flashed, sharp and cruel, into my mind’s eye as the girl, Charlie, sat down next to Jas.

She had lost her mother because of that bomb.

Because of Lucas.

And now she was in our Maths set at school.

Mr Pritchard started writing a quadratic equation on the whiteboard, but all I could see was the market after the bomb. The girl and her mother. The blood and the smell of fear in the air.

I closed my eyes, but the images remained.

Charlie

The bell rang and the class rose as Mr Pritchard dismissed everyone. Most people were wandering away, chattering, though the girl next to me was still buried in her notebook. I
looked around, wondering what came next. The timetable was really confusing. And, anyway, I was too embarrassed to look at mine when no-one else needed to look at theirs.

I was hoping the next lesson didn’t involve Rosa. From the way she’d acted earlier I was definitely getting the sense that she loved all the attention she was getting thanks to my
‘sad orphan’ history.

The Maths session had been okay at least. I’d liked the teacher and understood all of what we’d covered. I looked around. Mr Pritchard and most of the group had gone now. I needed to
move. The girl next to me was still writing, her tongue peeking out from her mouth in concentration. She had been working hard all lesson, only looking up when Mr Pritchard spoke and chewing on her
pen in between taking copious notes. She was very slim, with a long, sloping nose and sleek dark hair.

‘Er, excuse me,’ I said.

The girl turned. She had gentle eyes and an open expression. Her long hair framed a perfectly oval face. ‘Hi.’ She smiled – and there was nothing fake or overdone about the
smile. ‘I’m Jas.’

I smiled back, liking her immediately. ‘Charlie,’ I said. ‘Er, I’m new and I wasn’t sure . . .’ I tailed off.

‘It’s just break time now,’ Jas said, standing up and shoving her notebook into her bag. Despite being a touch taller than me, her legs were really skinny, sticking out from
under her skirt like sticks. ‘Would you like me to show you the canteen? Or the toilets? Or your house room? Which house are you in, by the way?’

‘Plato,’ I said. ‘What about you?’

‘Socrates,’ Jas said. ‘That’s why I didn’t see you earlier, but I remember Rosa talking about you yesterday. You’re her cousin, aren’t you?’

I nodded. Jas led the way to the door and out into the bustling corridor. Students were herding towards a sign marked ‘canteen’. I really didn’t want to face the crowds so,
when Jas looked at me expectantly, I asked if she’d show me outside.

‘I’ve been in three different buildings so far,’ I said. ‘And I have no idea how they all link up.’

Jas laughed. ‘I know, it’s mad. It’s such a big school. It took me two weeks to find my way around.’ She pointed in the opposite direction from the students rushing past
us. ‘That’s the nearest exit.’

We walked along, hugging the wall.

‘I got a map earlier,’ I said, ‘but I couldn’t work out where I was on it.’

Jas grinned. ‘I know. I couldn’t work out that map at all my first few days. In the end, Nat drew me another one.’

‘Nat?’

‘My brother,’ she said. ‘We’re twins. He’s in your house, actually. They like to split twins up.’

‘They put me in with Rosa,’ I said. ‘Though I think Rosa asked for that before I started.’

‘What did
you
ask for?’

‘I said I didn’t mind.’

We reached the exit. Jas pushed the door open and we emerged onto a large, tarmac concourse. A few boys at the far end were playing football. Two fields stretched away into the distance.

‘Is that all part of the school?’ I asked.

‘Yup, it’s massive,’ Jas said with a sigh. She was peering over at the football-playing boys. ‘Dunno where Nat’s got to. He was in our Maths class just now and
he’s usually out here at break.’

I nodded, relieved that I wasn’t going to have to meet anyone else for the moment.

Jas took me over to the fields, then guided me down some steps to a separate building which turned out to house the gym and a big indoor swimming pool.

‘Newbury Park has its own pool?’ I asked, incredulous.

‘Wait till you see the golf course.’ Jas rolled her eyes. ‘It’s wrong, isn’t it, when so many people these days are starving?’

I nodded. It
was
unfair, of course. I’d thought the same thing myself when I’d seen Brian and Gail’s house. Still, I couldn’t deny that it was also pretty cool.
‘It wasn’t like this at my old school.’

‘Right.’ Jas hesitated. ‘Look, you’ll hear anyway, so I might as well tell you, I know about your mum, in . . . in the bomb . . .’

‘Oh.’ I looked away, past the swimming pool, towards the trees that marked the Newbury Park school boundary. I’d thought for a moment that Jas might be different from the other
girls, able to stop herself from prying into my past, trying to get all the gossip.

But clearly I’d been wrong.

‘My brother was in the same explosion,’ Jas went on. ‘He was left in a coma.’

I looked back at her. I hadn’t expected that.

‘I thought you said your brother was here, at school?’

‘No, not Nat, he’s my twin. I mean my older brother. Lucas. He’s still in the coma.’ Jas’s voice was steady, but I could see the pain behind her eyes as she
spoke.

I remembered now the toll from the blast: four dead, including Mum and that security guard and seventeen injured. I’d vaguely heard that one of the injured still hadn’t regained
consciousness but it was a long time since I’d thought about it.

‘It’s ironic you and me meeting, really,’ Jas said.

I shrugged. ‘I guess it is, though my parents used to live around here before I was born. It’s where my dad was from. That’s how come his brother lives here now, why I’m
here . . .’ I stopped, suddenly aware that I’d told Jas more about myself in the past minute than I’d said to anyone else since Mum died. ‘I’m sorry about
Lucas.’

Jas nodded. ‘It was worse for Nat than me. He was actually there, at the market, when the bomb went off . . .’

I had no memory of a boy our age at the scene, but then most of my memories of that horrible time were a blur now. Jas looked awkward, like she didn’t want to say any more. Well, I could
relate to that.

‘So I’ve got History after break,’ I said, determined to change the subject. ‘Do you do that? And, if you do, can you help me find the classroom?’

‘Sure.’ The tension ebbed from Jas’s face as she led me around the swimming pool building and back to the main school. We chatted on. Jas told me a little bit more about her
brother Nat. She said he was a football nut, and really smart . . . that he had a proper academic scholarship to the school while Jas had got a free place based on her piano playing. I was almost
looking forward to meeting him, but when the bell rang and Jas and I arrived for History, Nat was nowhere to be seen. Jas frowned as she gazed around the room. ‘I hope he’s not bunking
off again,’ she said. ‘He’s spent half the term arriving late and leaving early. Not that he ever gets into real trouble over it. Nat’s good at talking his way out of
things.’

I raised my eyebrows. Smart and rebellious. I was liking the sound of Nat.

History was fun. The teacher was one of those people who like to make everything relevant to today, and all chatty and friendly with the class. I was amazed by how disciplined everything was. Of
course there was a bit of backchat and a few students messing around, but the vast majority did their work and everyone paid attention when the teacher insisted on it.

Rosa wandered over at the end. I hadn’t even noticed she was in the room, having sat down at the front with Jas before class started.

‘Where did you get to at break?’ Rosa asked, looking miffed. ‘I waited for you in the canteen, but you didn’t show up.’

‘Oh.’ I racked my brains. Had I said I’d meet Rosa there? I was pretty sure I hadn’t. ‘I didn’t realise.’

Rosa made a face. ‘Really? But
everyone
goes to the canteen at break. You have to eat then because lunch for year 11 is so late.’

I resisted the temptation to point out that I’d had no way of knowing that.

‘I wanted to take a look outside,’ I said. ‘Work out how all the buildings fitted together. Jas from my Maths class showed me.’

Rosa wrinkled her nose. ‘Jas?’ she said. ‘She’s a bit weird.’

I bristled. So far, Jas was the only person I’d met at Newbury Park that I’d really liked. ‘Why d’you say that?’ I asked.

‘Well she’s totally anorexic for a start. Hardly eats a thing. And she wears odd clothes out of school.
And
she works really hard at everything.’

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