looked alarmed, like maybe he’d said too much. Then he burbled on. ‘Anyway, I know I said my name was Edward but most people actually call me Ed . . . My brother calls me ENOB. That’s from my initials. My full name’s Edward Neill O’Brien. Anyway . . .’
‘Edward O’Brien?’Where had I heard that name before?
‘Thanks for what you did, Nico.’ Ed was now walking hurriedly past me, chattering on at high speed. ‘I owe you but I ought to get back to the dorm . . . check where my next class is.’
He scurried off. I followed more slowly, the memory of where I’d heard Ed’s name before still niggling away at the back of my brain, just out of reach.
I tried, for a minute, to work out what it was. But then I reached the bottom of the stairs and saw Ketty in the distance – and all I could think about was my Saturday night problem again.
Friday. Another dull history class with Fergus. I was certain, now, that Ketty was avoiding me. We normally talked at the end of school, before she went running, but yesterday she’d rushed off to get changed without a word. That was Thursday – late-night shopping – so, to cheer myself up, I sneaked out of school and got the bus to Hanmore Park. It’s the nearest town to school, with plenty of phone shops on the High Street. Tom and Curtis agreed to cover for me if Fergus asked where I was. In the end I was out of school for about an hour and a half altogether. Risky, but worth it. I bought myself a great new phone with the money Ketty hadn’t wanted.
Since then I’d spent my entire time attempting to achieve my ludicrous juggling ambitions. I could now keep six objects in the air at any one time, though only for a few seconds. I’d stopped practising with balls – tennis balls were too big to manoeuvre and I couldn’t find any smaller ones. Anyway, using different objects looked cool. The whole thing was cool actually. I loved watching the objects zoom around each other. However, I was only too aware that making stuff move on my own was one thing and doing it in front of other people, especially Ketty, was something else.
I’d spent most of the lesson so far with my new phone under my desk, looking online for tips on normal juggling that I could adapt to fit my own, telekinetic version.
Fergus asked Ketty a question. I looked up. She was a few seats over. Her hair was loose today, resting on her shoulders. I got the distinct impression she was using it like a veil . . . hiding from me. But maybe I was being paranoid.
Ketty answered Fergus’s question, then looked round. She caught my eye and smiled.
My confidence surged. It was going to be okay. Ketty might have been a bit withdrawn the past few days, but we were still friends – I just needed to make her believe that I won that stupid juggling competition. I decided to catch her after class and make some definite plan about Saturday. I turned back to my mobile.
‘Nico?’ Fergus’s exasperated voice cut through my exploration of juggling4dummies.com.
I glanced up. The whole class was looking at me.
‘At last,’ Fergus said. ‘Am I interrupting something?’
‘No, sir.’ I slid my phone into my trouser pocket.
‘Then perhaps you can tell me which highly important historical document we’ve been discussing?’ There was a sardonic edge to Fergus’s voice. He only used it on me – and maybe a small handful of genuine school troublemakers.
I glanced at the textbook on my desk, desperately hoping the open page would give me a clue. But all I could see was a map.
‘Er . . .’ I looked round the class, hoping for help or inspiration.
Ketty was mouthing something at me, but too fast for me to follow what she was saying. Billy was smirking in the back left corner. Lola and Lauren were sitting on either side of him, both looking anxious.
And then I caught sight of Ed. He was up at the front, his thick, sandy hair all tousled up – making him look even geekier than when I’d found him in
‘Edward O’Brien?’Where had I heard that name before?
‘Thanks for what you did, Nico.’ Ed was now walking hurriedly past me, chattering on at high speed. ‘I owe you but I ought to get back to the dorm . . . check where my next class is.’
He scurried off. I followed more slowly, the memory of where I’d heard Ed’s name before still niggling away at the back of my brain, just out of reach.
I tried, for a minute, to work out what it was. But then I reached the bottom of the stairs and saw Ketty in the distance – and all I could think about was my Saturday night problem again.
Friday. Another dull history class with Fergus. I was certain, now, that Ketty was avoiding me. We normally talked at the end of school, before she went running, but yesterday she’d rushed off to get changed without a word. That was Thursday – late-night shopping – so, to cheer myself up, I sneaked out of school and got the bus to Hanmore Park. It’s the nearest town to school, with plenty of phone shops on the High Street. Tom and Curtis agreed to cover for me if Fergus asked where I was. In the end I was out of school for about an hour and a half altogether. Risky, but worth it. I bought myself a great new phone with the money Ketty hadn’t wanted.
Since then I’d spent my entire time attempting to achieve my ludicrous juggling ambitions. I could now keep six objects in the air at any one time, though only for a few seconds. I’d stopped practising with balls – tennis balls were too big to manoeuvre and I couldn’t find any smaller ones. Anyway, using different objects looked cool. The whole thing was cool actually. I loved watching the objects zoom around each other. However, I was only too aware that making stuff move on my own was one thing and doing it in front of other people, especially Ketty, was something else.
I’d spent most of the lesson so far with my new phone under my desk, looking online for tips on normal juggling that I could adapt to fit my own, telekinetic version.
Fergus asked Ketty a question. I looked up. She was a few seats over. Her hair was loose today, resting on her shoulders. I got the distinct impression she was using it like a veil . . . hiding from me. But maybe I was being paranoid.
Ketty answered Fergus’s question, then looked round. She caught my eye and smiled.
My confidence surged. It was going to be okay. Ketty might have been a bit withdrawn the past few days, but we were still friends – I just needed to make her believe that I won that stupid juggling competition. I decided to catch her after class and make some definite plan about Saturday. I turned back to my mobile.
‘Nico?’ Fergus’s exasperated voice cut through my exploration of juggling4dummies.com.
I glanced up. The whole class was looking at me.
‘At last,’ Fergus said. ‘Am I interrupting something?’
‘No, sir.’ I slid my phone into my trouser pocket.
‘Then perhaps you can tell me which highly important historical document we’ve been discussing?’ There was a sardonic edge to Fergus’s voice. He only used it on me – and maybe a small handful of genuine school troublemakers.
I glanced at the textbook on my desk, desperately hoping the open page would give me a clue. But all I could see was a map.
‘Er . . .’ I looked round the class, hoping for help or inspiration.
Ketty was mouthing something at me, but too fast for me to follow what she was saying. Billy was smirking in the back left corner. Lola and Lauren were sitting on either side of him, both looking anxious.
And then I caught sight of Ed. He was up at the front, his thick, sandy hair all tousled up – making him look even geekier than when I’d found him in
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