RYOT GRL

Chapter 3

I didn’t go back to the stalls in case there were more police around, instead I went straight home and opted to send my mum a text on my whereabouts instead. She returned 10 minutes later, I sent her the text, her face red and flustered and breathing heavily. “Dodo, please tell me you’re not the girl they're looking for who ran away from a police officer”, her face is stern, but I can see her lips suppressing a smirk. It’s one of the perks of my mum she’s never takes anything seriously, so I almost never get into trouble. “She lied and said I was trying to steal something”, I claim and my mum frowns. “If you need anything Dodo. You can ask”, she answers, and I raise my brows at her, irked at her comment. “I’ve needed new shoes for months now and we still haven’t got any”. She rolls her eyes, looking down at my converses. “They look fine to me”. I lift them up to show her the holes at the bottom and she grimaces. “On second thought maybe, you could do with another pair”.

That’s the thing with my mum, we may have an abundance of money to move around the country any time she chooses but we never spend more than we need. We live on the absolute minimum so we can save. It means most of the time we’re shopping in charity shops and opting for shoes with holes. “What do you want for dinner?”, she asks holding up her basket of mixed vegetables and potatoes. I shrug my shoulders, not having much of an appetite since my run in with the police. “I don’t mind”. She rolls her eyes, jabbing me in the stomach lightly with her elbow. “I hate it when you say that”, she moans. Before she scans my features closely. “Why are you looking at me like that?”, I question, feeling self-conscious. “They said you ran off with a boy”, she hints, raising her brows in suspicion. I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know what you're talking about”, I say and turn around running up to my room. When I walk into my bedroom, Ruben is lying outstretched on the floor taking up half the room. I lean down to stroke him before putting my bedspread on, still using a pink Barbie cover from when I was 5. I would never tell anyone but it’s my favourite, I couldn’t bear to get rid of it. I get out my sketch book from my bag and draw Castle, his face still fresh on my mind. I may be one to break the rules in school, but I know my limits and I don’t want to end up in jail. If I could, I would go to art school, you don’t have to be smart to do that, you just must be good at drawing and work harder than the rest. It’s about the only thing I can do.

“Dodo, dinners ready”, I hear my mum screech and I put my notebook behind my pillow, walking downstairs with Ruben at my side. “I made vegetable soup”. A classic in our family since it’s just about the only recipe my mum can master. I sit down, whilst she puts two ladles of soup into my bowl. “Thanks”, I murmur, taking small sips. “We’ll go down to the high school tomorrow”, she offers, and I feel the kick of nerves in my stomach. “Yeah ok”, I say gruffly. There’s always a fear with a new school. I can handle the people; I’ll be the scariest thing they’ve ever seen. It’s not the teachers either since I’ve seen it all, strict, soft, overly shouty, and so mellow I fall asleep. It’s the lessons I can’t handle and writing essays and reading textbooks. It can feel my hands shaking and my heart racing just thinking about it.

I couldn’t sleep much last night, mostly because mum decided to start spring cleaning the house at 1 am, with loud music blaring. I’m surprised our new neighbours didn’t complain. which at this rate. When I did eventually manage to convince myself to get out of bed, I dressed in my black skirt, black mesh tights, my combat boots, black leather jacket and applied thick coats of black eyeliner. When I came downstairs my mum looked at me, portraying a look of utter horror on her face. “Dodo. You can’t be serious. You are not going dressed like that”.

“Then I’m not going at all”, and she stamps her foot, folding her arms across her chest. We’re in a staring contest, neither one of us wanting to break eyes first. But she glances to the clock and her eyes widen. “Let’s go we’re going to be late”. I try not to gloat over my victory too much. The best bit is yet to come when everyone else sees me.

“Could you at least have worn something with a bit more colour”, she presses, her eyes glancing over my outfit with disapproval. “I am. I’ve got black, grey, there’s white on the skull, and I’ve got red laces on my combat boots”, I say sweetly, and she frowns. “I meant brighter colours. You look like you’re going to a funeral”. “I am”, I deadpan, thinking of the hell hole school she’s about to send me too. It’s easy for her; she can sit around at home doing nothing all day. It’s not the same for me constantly having to start over.

We pull up outside in the parking lot and it’s big. A lot bigger than my old school, and there’s fencing around the outer part like it’s some sort of prison. There are a few kids at the front, younger than me. I see how they eye my mum in awe and as their heads swivel to me their expression changes to one of horror. I stick my tongue out, making them scramble to their feet. “See, you’re intimidating”, she presses. “No. I think they had class to get to”, I mutter, feigning innocence which causes her to sigh heavily.

“Dodo. Can you try and try with this school. I really don’t want to have to find you another in a few days”. She’s acting like I’m the one who drags us across the country every couple of weeks. Like it’s my fault we never stay in one place long enough for me to grow accustomed to it.

“Sure”, I say with a fake smile, and she raises her eyebrow. I do the same and she turns away from me. We walk through reception, my mum talking to the receptionist whilst I look around. It’s very unlike my last school which was so run down I don’t think you could call it a school anymore. People used to light books on fire in the classroom and walk out if they didn’t like the class. Here, they’ve got pictures of happy students on the wall that I would love to deface and there’s a picture of the principal central to all the pictures. It’s an old man, go figure, who’s straight faced and staring boldly into the camera. I don’t why anyone would think an intimidating picture of the principal would make you want to go to this school. Surely a photo with him looking more welcoming would make people want to come here.

“Come this way”. I’m suddenly being dragged away by my mum. “Stop gawking”, she hisses, and I give her a perplexed look. “Have you seen the pictures?”, I blurt, and she rolls her eyes. “It’s modest”, she hisses. “It’s preppy”.

We stand outside the principal’s office. The receptionist hands some papers to my mum and looks to address me when she stops open mouthed. I can’t help but smirk at her reaction. “Enter”, I wink at her and go into the room, following closely behind my mum. As expected, the room is big, with pictures of himself on the wall and a cabinet of trophies behind him. “Mrs Lucas”, the smile he flashes at my mum is broad and it immediately gets my back up. He likes her. “Just Miss”, my mum replies and if he wasn’t in front of us, I would have jabbed her at showing him that she’s available. “Miss Lucas. Of course,”, I don’t like how he says her name. I clear my throat, catching their attention. “This is my daughter Dodo Lucas”, she pronounces and his eyes flicker to me and instantly harden. He straightens up as I watch his eyes swivel down to my whole outfit, I watch as the pupil in his eyes get bigger and bigger until he gets to my combat boots and his eyes almost pop out of his skull. “Please sit down both of you”, he growls, and I flop on the chair exasperated receiving a glare from my mum. “I should tell you we have a strict dress code. No mesh tights and minimal makeup”, he thunders, eyeing me. “Of course. She will be dressed appropriately tomorrow”, my mum chimes and I open my mouth to object but one glare from her and I close it again. “It’s so nice of you to give her a place a couple of months into the school year”, she muses and he smiles, cracking a toothy grin, “Well, of course. Here at Westgate, we offer a chance to help even the most challenging of pupils”, he chimes. “Well, it’s very kind of you. Isn’t it Dodo?”, she glances at me and I plaster a fake over the top smile on my face. “So nice”, I say and if looks could kill I would be on the floor.

“I’ve brought a few students to give Dodo a tour of the school. I’m sure you and I have more to discuss”, he chimes, his eyes intensely on my mum’s. “No that’s alright----”, “She would love to have a tour”, my mum cuts across and I grit my teeth. I don’t see what the point is. I won’t turn up to half the classes and the one’s I will turn up to I won’t participate in.

Pleased, he picks up the telephone by his desk. “Send them in Julia”, he orders and I’m guessing he’s referring to the receptionist because 2 girls troop in. One with long brown hair, tanned skin and dark brown eyes and the other blonde short hair and pale blue eyes. So, pale I can barely see colour in them. They’re plain, dressed in baggy and oversized clothes, minimal makeup and timidly looking between my mum and me. I see the one with brown hair gulp when she looks at the thick makeup I’ve plastered on my face. “This is Georgina and Sarah”. “Stella”, the girl with blonde hair mutters and I can’t help but smirk. “Georgina and Stella will show you around”. So I go, because anything is better than watching an old man try and flirt with my mum. She may have been with a lot of men, but she has standards.