It All Started In A McDonald's...

me, the multitasking queen

I survived through the rest of the day, somehow. We walked out the gates without being beaten up, which was always a good thing. Flash tried to run Peter over with his car, so my patience was tested, but I kept my promise and didn't break his nose. Again.

And then I started the one and a half mile walk back to the apartment block from school. The walk back was mainly uphill, (our apartment block was on top of a hill, and the school was at the bottom of the hill) but I had practice since me and Dad had to walk everywhere because we didn't have a car and the school bus didn't come this way, so I'd developed a very good stamina, so walking up hills didn't bother me. It was a lonely walk though – MJ, Ned and Peter didn't walk this way home, because even though I could see MJ and Peter's apartment blocks, (I didn't know where Ned lived) they were a good mile away on the other side of school.

And it would be even lonelier for the next two weeks. I didn't do well over long periods of time without company, so I was probably going to go crazy after a week or so.

This wouldn't go down well with Dad if he found out. Not that he would, if I had anything to say about it. My best chance would be to rip up the letter from school the second we got it, before Dad could see it. And delete the email/text, because he never took his phone to work and I knew the passcode.

I turned into the apartment block. Anyone would view me as a daughter who didn't respect her dad, but they'd be wrong. I could honestly say from the bottom of my heart that he was the greatest person ever, and I admired the way he put up with all my shit. I wouldn't be able to. It was just that he had enough on his plate and didn't need any more to deal with, especially not my school troubles. That was the last thing he needed.

I started to go up the four flights of stairs. The college students on the second floor were having a loud party for the fifth time this year. I quickened my pace slightly. As I got to the third floor, I saw Mrs Brewster's old terrier, Cookie, wandering around their hallway. Again.

I liked Cookie. He was a lovely little dude, but he was a nuisance, always escaping. I knelt down and patted the floor, beckoning him over. I fussed his little head and picked him up, taking him to number 310 and tapping the door. Mrs Brewster, a tiny woman only about half my size, opened the door immediately, and sighed in relief, seeing me with Cookie.

"Oh, thank you, Jamie," she said, taking the little dog off me and cradling him like a baby. "I only just noticed he'd got out."

"No problem Mrs Brewster," I said. Cookie stared at me with his big, adorable eyes as though saying c'mon, dude, why'd you have to take me back? "He's a lovely little dog. Wish I had a dog."

"You don't, he's a little terror," she replied, though she was still tickling the dog under his now grey-haired chin.

"What, this little angel?" I said, smiling. "I find that hard to believe."

I gave the dog a last little tickle and carried on up the stairs. The fourth floor still needed cleaning from the last time Mrs Taylor's kids had drawn all over the walls in wax crayon and made the place very colourful. By the time I made it to the fifth floor (my floor) I was immediately hit by the strong stench of drugs. And I could still hear the hip-hop from the party below.

To make it worse, the gang members had friends over, and they were sitting out in the hallway, smoking and drinking. The moment they saw me, they all glared and stared. I stared back. It wasn't going to be fun getting past.

So, staying as close as I could to the shabby, peeling wallpaper of the opposite wall, I avoided their eyes and managed to get past, miraculously without being stabbed. It wasn't like I was scared of them, but I was wary that these guys didn't value human life and my hoodie wouldn't do much to protect me from a knife attack. I pulled out my apartment key and went inside number 503 as quickly as I could before I could find out just how non-stab-proof it was, locking it behind me and throwing the key on the cabinet. I kicked off my shoes and they landed under the coat rack (which held exactly two coats) and then dumped my rucksack on the armchair. I could sort that out after I'd had a snack. And some juice. I hadn't had more than a cup of tap water all day.