Mira in the Present Tense (17 page)

I wake up to the smell of burning toast and the screech of the smoke alarm. Feeling more tired than I did when I went to bed, I wander downstairs in my pajamas, checking my phone for…nothing.

“Come on, Mira, stop messing around with that now, you'll be late for school.” Mum hurries me along on her morning conveyor belt of making sandwiches, breakfasts, and attempting to get us all out of the door on time. There is no room in this well-rehearsed schedule for me to arrive downstairs in my pajamas at 8:30 a.m.

“I don't feel well, Mum.”

“Neither do I,” moans Krish.

“You're fine, Krish. You've just eaten three rounds of toast. Do you want anything to eat, Mira?”

I hold my belly as if it's hurting and shake my head, even though my stomach is rumbling loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Go on then. You'd better go back up to bed. I'll come and take your temperature when I've got Krish off to school.”

“Why don't you take it now, then you'll see she's faking.”

I pinch Krish hard on the arm as I pass him on the stairs.

“Awwwww!” he yelps. “That really hurt.”

“He's just faking it, Mum,” I say, sneering at him.

“Off to bed with you then.” Mum whisks me off, tea towel flapping.

The letterbox clanks, I hear Mum telling Millie I'm not going in and the door closing behind her. Now I feel guilty. I think about getting dressed and running into school after Millie, but it's too late.

I am bored and hungry and all Mum has given me to eat is dry toast, crackers, and water. She says that should settle my stomach. Even though Granddad Bimal's a doctor, she hates people being ill. Whenever I'm off sick, I always remember, too late, that you don't get much sympathy when you're ill with Mum. It's just not worth it. Some people get to sit in front of the TV all day, being served up drinks and bits and pieces of delicious food. Not with my mum. You have to stay in your room and read or sleep. You're much better off being ill when Dad's around.

I'm lying in bed trying not to think of food and thinking how embarrassing it's going to be seeing Jidé tomorrow, because he
still
hasn't called, and this is the exact moment that a message jumps into my inbox.

Just when I'd given up on Notsurewho Notsurewhat.

Mira, sorry you're ill.

Hope you're in tomorrow.

See you.

JJ x

That's only ten words, but it takes me the rest of the afternoon of staring at his text to try to work out exactly what it means. I wonder how long it took him to write, because it takes me about three hours to write this reply…

Jidé, I'm much better thanks.

I'll be back tomorrow.

See you.

Mira x

I spend at least fifteen minutes adding and removing the x before I finally press the send button with the x in place.

Suddenly my belly rumbles, demanding to be fed. As soon as I hear Mum and Laila leave to pick up Krish from school, I sneak downstairs and rummage around for something to eat. Before I can hide, Mum's back in the room, heading straight for the cupboard I've still got my head stuck inside.

“Forgot a snack for Krish,” she says, removing the packet of Kit Kats from my hand. “Hungry?”

I nod.

“Good, then you can go back to school tomorrow.”

And off she goes, slamming the door behind her and bumping Laila's pram down our front steps. I think Mum's got a sickness/wellness radar. I bet she knew I was faking it all along. As soon as she's gone, I sprint upstairs at the sound of another message jumping into my inbox.

Great!

JJ xx

Just that one word and those two kisses make me want to laugh out loud. By the time Mum comes in I still haven't managed to wipe the stupid grin off my face.

“Well,
you
definitely look better,” smiles Mum.

“I knew she was faking it,” mumbles Krish, pushing past me on the stairs.

Run, Mira, run! Faster! I can feel my legs stretched to snapping point, but all the time they are gaining on me, the usual suspects, Demi, Bo, and Orla. Around the trees in what is supposed to be our “oh so safe world” of the year-seven court-yard, I trip over the loose wood chippings, and as I stumble, they stampede.

Demi grabs hold of my hair and pulls me roughly to the woodland corner of the courtyard.

“You can stay right here, creep. Don't you dare move an inch off this spot, even when the bell goes, or we'll have you,” Demi whispers in my ear and walks away laughing.

The bell rings. If only Millie wasn't at the dentist. If she was here, she wouldn't let them get away with this. But she's not here, so I do exactly what I've been ordered to do like a frightened rabbit caught in the headlights, and before I know what's happening the last person in the world I would want to see me like this is standing right in front of me.

“What
are
you doing?” asks Jidé, staring at me as if I've gone completely crazy. This is so
not
how it was supposed to be between me and Jidé today.

“Demi…she told me if…well…she just told me I wasn't allowed to move,” I mumble.

Suddenly, I see myself through Jidé's eyes. I feel like such an idiot. What
am
I doing? All the things he knows about…what must have happened to his family…what could have happened to him…He must think I'm pathetic.

“What's stopping you leaving? There's no one here, nothing in your way.” Jidé strikes his hand up and down through the air.

I bet he wonders why he even bothered texting me now.

“If you stand up to them,” says Jidé, “they'll stop.”

I have never felt so humiliated in my whole life, and by the time we get to the classroom I'm wearing the bright red blush of shame on my face like a beacon of embarrassment. I hang my head as Miss Poplar launches into her topic on drugs and alcohol. She says that the only drugs you should take are what the doctor gives you if you're ill to make you better. As I sit there listening to Miss Poplar talk about a subject that I probably know more about than anyone else in this class because of what Nana's going through, it feels as if my blood is literally starting to boil up in me.

“They don't always make you better. My Nana Josie's got cancer and she has drugs to stop her pain, but they won't make her better.”

It's my voice I hear saying these words.

Miss Poplar is staring at me. I know it's because she never expects me to say anything at all in class and the way that came out was all wrong. I mean, I can just about talk like that in Pat Print's class, but what was I thinking of? In front of this lot. I might as well have offered them my head on a plate. Whenever I say anything in class, Demi rolls her eyes up to make me nervous. It's always worked until today.

“You're right, Mira. This is a very complicated issue. Of course when it comes to pain relief that's different.”

Jidé's eyes are burning into me.

“
She's
different,” Demi whispers under her breath, rolling her eyes into the back of her head to look like a zombie…and that's the moment when something inside me sparks and the words flair up and spread around the room like a raging fire.

“Stop it! Just stop! I don't know what you get out of being so vile to me, but you'll have to find someone else to pick on. I hope you never have to watch someone you love dying right in front of you, because the way you carry on you'd better hope there's no such thing as bad karma…because you lot have got it coming!”

As soon as it's out, I cover my mouth with my hands in case anything else escapes. Where did that come from? I don't really know what happens to me when I get this angry, because I've never felt like this before. The whole class is stunned into silence and Miss Poplar is gawping at me as if I'm a total stranger.

“Who exactly are you talking about, Mira?”

“Demi, Bo, and Orla,” I say in the clearest and loudest voice I can find.

I have never seen Miss Poplar look so stern.

“You three, to my office, right now. The rest of you get on with some reading. I'll be sending someone in to sit with you in a minute,” she barks at the rest of the class. “Mira, come and see me at the end of the lesson, please,” she says in a tone you would use to comfort a wounded animal.

The tears are stinging my eyes now, so I keep my head low as they file out of the room. There is silence.

The kind of silence that until now I've only ever felt at school in Pat Print's class. I hear someone get up, walk toward me, and sit down in Millie's empty seat. It's Jidé. I daren't look up in case he sees me crying.