He nods again. ‘I get you, Jess.’
‘Then you give the cards to me,
and I’ll sell ’em on to
the people at the ticket machines
for half of what they’d usually pay.
Right?’
He gives two thumbs up. ‘Right, Jess.’
And then we get going,
blagging tickets,
selling them on,
making a fiver a time
until I’ve got fifty quid
in the back pocket of my jeans
and Nicu has two spare
Travelcards to get us into London.
So we take the Tube,
the Piccadilly Line all the way to Leicester Square,
and from there straight into
Häagen-Dazs, where I order the fattest cone
they’ve got and four scoops of
cookie dough ice cream.
‘What do you want?’ I ask Nicu.
‘I want same as you, Jess,’ he says,
eyes so fixed on my face that
I blush.
‘All time same as you.’
RHINO HANDS
Metal collecting give Tata dirt and oil hands,
like rhino skin.
I can’t to keep eyes off those rhino hands.
Mămică stand behind
with palms in pray position.
It like
Heaven and Hell
are standing in living room.
Tata have two photo picture,
one for each dirt hand.
I scare to look.
Mămică and Tata have sunbeam on their faces.
‘We’ve found her, Nicu,’ Mămică say.
‘Well, we’re down to the last two,’ Tata say. ‘Two lovely girls.’
He holding these two lovely girls up to my eyes.
‘Have a look, Nicu, and tell us who’s your favourite,’ Mămică say.
‘I’ve spoken to both families. They’re happy with what I’ve offered them.’
‘So it’s down to you now, son.’
Right rhino thrust:
‘She’s called Ana-Maria.’
Left rhino thrust:
‘She’s called Florica.’
I look
at both photos
with concentrate.
But I seeing only
Jess.
Liam
Nicu flicks my ear and I scream out,
try to give him a dead leg
and we bust our arses laughing
until a shadow appears over us.
‘Jess?’
It’s Liam.
He’s got a bit of a goatee,
brown with flecks of ginger,
but he looks good.
As usual.
‘You all right?’ he says.
I feel Nicu watching,
wondering who this bloke is,
this mad-good-looking bloke
who can get any girl he wants.
‘I heard you got nicked,’ Liam says.
‘It was ages ago, Liam.’
‘Yeah.’
He pulls out a packet of fags and offers me one.
I take it
and we walk away,
Nicu’s eyes burning into my back.
I feel them,
and I wish he wouldn’t do it –
look at me like that all the time –
like I’m
Someone.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ I ask Liam.
‘It’s been over a year for fuck’s sake.
You didn’t even tell me you were going
and now
it’s a nightmare at home.
You have to come back.’
Liam shakes his head,
flicks ash at some flowers.
‘Terry still around?’
I nod.
‘Still knocking Mum about?’
I nod again.
‘Way worse than ever.
You’ve gotta come home, Liam.
He’ll kill her
if you don’t come back.’
Liam looks up at the sun.
Right into it.
‘I got my own problems, Jess.
Leila’s pregnant.’
Leila,
the girl on the estate
who did drug runs for everyone?
That Leila?
‘I’m living with her over in Tottenham now.
You could visit,
if you want.
Sometime.
That’s what I wanted to say.
I wanna see you more.
I mean,
I wanna see you again.
I feel like a total dick for leaving,
but I couldn’t stay.
‘OK.’
‘Council gave us a flat.’
I look up at the sky myself
but the sun’s gone –
heavy clouds hang low overhead.
He roots around in his pocket and pulls out a tenner,
stuffs it into my hand.
‘I’ll see you around, yeah.
I’ll call you,’ he says.
But I know he won’t call.
‘Who was heart throb?’ Nicu asks
when I walk back.
‘Mind your business, Nicu,’ I say,
and punch him in the arm,
when what I really want
is for him
to give me hug.
THE CHANGING PLACE
Teacher of P.E.
blows whistle,
scream my way,
‘Come on, son, toughen up!’
I rubbing my knee because some idiot dick
kick it hard on the purpose.
P.E. teacher does fast walking to my direction,
swinging arms,
steam in ears.
My knee blinks with pain.
‘What is it?’ he say when closer.
‘My knee hurting,’ I say.
‘What?’
‘My knee.’ I try to tell to his ears and eyes.
But P.E. teacher don’t care of my agony.
‘If you knew the difference between a ball and a kebab then maybe you wouldn’t get yourself hurt,’ he say.
‘Yes, sir.’
Asad and Bilal look at grass.
Dan and mates do evil stare.
‘Get up off your arse,’ teacher say.
Red come to my face.
Fists get tight.
No reply.
Instead
I fast run to changing room.
P.E. teacher screaming more until I hear fading in his voice,
like I run inside cave.
After what happen in changing room
I don’t do more football lessons.
After what happen in changing room
I don’t want to go to school.
After what happen in changing room
big part in my heart
think Tata could be right when he say:
‘People here will never accept us.
They treat us like animals.’
But other part in my heart
think not all people see us like that.
Jess, for number one,
because she tell to me,
‘The way I see it, if you’re a dick, you’re a dick,
so it doesn’t matter what country you come from.’
But Dan definitely disagreeing with Jess
because
in changing room
he call me,
‘a filthy, fucking thief,’
as he can’t to find
his pen.
His pen with words Chelsea Football Club on it.
One mate with neck muscle say,
‘I bet he nicked it,
when he pissed off from football earlier, Dan.’
Two mate with the punk rock hair say,
‘They’d rob from the
blind given half the chance.’
But I not know what he mean.
Three mate with fat belly say,
‘Yeah, my old man’s right about them lot.’
But I never one time meet his old man.
Dan and crew make the circle around me.
I try to put my sock on
but Punk Rock Hair
yank it
from my toe
and try to
throw on top of locker.
It miss
and hit wet floor.
Neck Muscle say,
‘You should do him, Dan.’
Punk Rock Hair say,
‘Break his nose.’
Fat Belly say,
‘Or his fingers.’
Then all I hear is
RA
RA
RA
because every boy shout in
my face,
so very close that I feeling their
mouth spit as it hit my
cheek
chin
eye
ear.
Then another great
yank come.
Massive yank on my hair.
Dan’s hand is
strong and mighty.
My head is pull back,
my eyes see roof,
my heart like music:
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Dan come close like maybe he want to
kiss.
‘If I find out you robbed my Chelsea pen,
you stinking gyppo twat,
I’m going to slice you
from here
to here.’
He do finger line across face
from ear
past cheek and mouth
to destination other ear.
‘Got it?’ he say.
‘Got it,’ I say soft.
But I don’t
got it,
his stupid football pen.
‘Right, come on, lads,’ Dan say.
Before leaving changing room
Fat Belly kick my knee.
The sore shoots
between my legs,
but I stay silence.
Neck Muscle sniff up until his face become red,
his mouth full.
He spit
on side of my head.
But I again silence.
Punk Rock Hair do nothing,
laughs only.
Still I silence
while
my blood boiling with angry
and violence.
After they going
I pick up my
sogging sock.
The toe part is dry
so I use for towel
my eye sockets
and
clean Neck Muscle spit
from my head.
As I leaning to pick up bag
I spy it.
Like long plastic cigarette
lying dead under bench.
I roll it over with my
toe,
all the way
until Chelsea Football Club shine
up at me.
On the Grass
Ally Pally again.
But not to skate,
just to sit up there
and watch London
spread out below us like an untouchable 3D map.
‘Weird, isn’t it?’ I say.
Nicu is next to me on the grass
pulling apart dead leaves.
‘What so weird?’ he asks.
‘I dunno.
Just that there are millions of
people in London,
and everyone thinking they’re so important.
But if,
like,
a giant came along
and
squashed them,
hardly anyone would care.
Everything would go on as normal.’
‘News reporting would care,’ Nicu says.
He cups his hands over his mouth,
making his voice dramatic.
‘Killer giant squash all citizens in London.’
I laugh.
‘Yeah, but you get what I mean?’
He is silent. Maybe he doesn’t understand.
Sometimes it’s like that,
and not just cos of the language.
He rests a hand on my knee.
‘You meaning we not important, Jess.
You wrong.
We both very important
enough.’
THREE SEATS
Tata is not computer man.
I showing him much times
how to delete
his
Internet History Browse.
Tata is not strong student.
When I get computer
time,
it not the
sexy site
Tata looking at
that
shivers up my skin.
Skin shivers begin
when I see
the buying of
three seats
to Cluj-Napoca.
Three seats to take us away
from
here.
Three seats in three weeks.
To take me away from
Jess.
Accused
I see it happen.
I mean I’m standing right there.
And what happens is
nothing.
One hundred per cent
zero.
Meg is taking her books out of her locker,
moaning about some physics test,
when Nicu walks by,
brushes her with his bag,
and she turns
like a wild cat,
like a witch,
and pushes him against the opposite wall.
‘Did you just touch my arse?’ she shouts
in his face
and loud enough for the whole
corridor to hear her.
‘What’s going on?’ my form teacher,
Ms Allen, wants to know,
coming out of her classroom.
‘He touched me, Miss,’ Meg says,
and starts to cry,
like,
proper tears.
‘I not touched her,’ Nicu says.
He holds up his hands
as if the truth were written
on to his palms.
‘No, he didn’t,’ I say.
I stand forward.
I stand up
for Nicu for the first time.
‘Yes, he did,’ Meg says,
and gives me a glare.
A warning.
I look away so she enlists Shawna and Liz.
‘Didn’t he?
You saw him.’
They nod,
and if Ms Allen
wasn’t standing right there
I’d claw them both.
‘Right, everyone, come with me,’ Ms Allen says.
Her face is flushed,
with pleasure, I think;
she likes a good crisis.
‘But Nicu didn’t do it,’ I repeat.
And
as though
Meg’s conjured him up using black magic,
Dan appears.
Great.
‘What’s happening?’ he asks.
‘Him. He touched my arse,’ Meg says.
Tears again.
Sobs.
Choking sounds
I’ve never heard from her before,
not even when her nan died
last year.
‘Yeah, a thief and a perv,’ Dan says.
‘A little dickie bird told me he was on some
youth offenders’ thing.’
He turns to Nicu.
‘Rape you were done for,
weren’t it, mate?’
Students slow down in the corridor –
stare and smirk
like it’s some show at the O2.
Ms Allen’s way out of her depth now.
‘He. Didn’t. Touch. Meg,’ I say.
Dan puts his mouth to my ear as Ms Allen
tries to calm Meg down.
‘That don’t matter, Jess,’ he whispers.
‘What matters is that everyone thinks he did.’
INNOCENT
It is filth lie what they say to me,
filth lie.
I do no arse touch
or
what Dan accuse.
I can’t to prove
because I have no words for
defend myself.
So
I stand like stupid man in the train lights,
listening to Jess
doing
my defending.
Then I can’t be stupid man no more.
I bolt away from all voices,
down long corridor,
past canteen
and find
my comfort.
In library.
The Right Thing
Meg says, ‘Oh my God,
did you see his face, though?
Classic.’
And they all crack up laughing
like an army of idiots.
I know there’s nothing
I can do
to make them
more human,
but at least,
for once,
I didn’t stand and watch
like someone had his hands around
my throat,
stopping me from speaking
out.
For the first time in my life
I did the
right thing.