My Backward Life (Sample Only)

DREAMTIME

The school bell was no longer ringing and all the blue uniforms had vanished, as though they'd been vacuumed up while I glanced the other way. As though everything had fast-forwarded five minutes without me.

"Yo, Lou!" a voice shouted from across the street. Dazed, I turned. A girl from my year, mounds of blonde hair and heavy eye makeup, waved in my direction. I'd sat next to her in assembly yesterday. Or last week if you're counting the six missing days.

She finished waving and disappeared behind the bush of someone's front garden. A few seconds later, something hurtled through the air. I ducked to avoid the empty can, but it struck my shoulder.

"What's wrong with you?" I shouted. I brushed off my coat and before Blondie could attack me again, hurried through the courtyard towards the glass building on the left. As I climbed the suspended wooden stairs to my form room, my mobile vibrated. I stopped and leaned up against the wall. My phone showed one new text message from my brother:

Sorry 4 yesterday. Hurricane Lucy. Please Explain.

Confusion swept through me. If Josh had something to do with this, I was going to kill him. I fumbled to dial his number. My eyes shifted across the corridor and the stairwell searching for cameras, in case I was being filmed and this was some kind of You've Been Framed gig. Josh's phone rang and rang until his voicemail clicked in.

"Louise?" Mrs. Bell, my form teacher clacked up the stairs towards me, wide brown eyes blinking behind enormous glasses. I cut off my brother's voice message and hid my phone. "Why aren't you in registration? Come on, hurry up."

I followed Mrs. Bell towards the roar of noise at the end of the corridor. The classroom shushed as we entered. I squeezed into my desk beside Chrissy. We were alphabetically seated so Chrissy and I had been sitting next to each other in registration since our first year at East Hill. When our eyes met, hate shot out of her and pierced right through me. There was hurt too. But mostly hate.

My stomach shriveled, and my pulse flapped like a tiny fish out of water. What could I have done to make her look at me like that? Was Mum right? Had I been acting like a lunatic?

When I was six, I fell face-first out of a tree—actually I jumped—but I hadn't expected to hit the ground. My left cheek swelled up, I bruised the whole side of my body and broke my wrist. But it was the moment of impact that really shook me. Not simply the pain, though it hurt like hell, but the realization my fairy wings hadn't worked. Chrissy's expression left me feeling the same way now. I always thought if something terrible happened, she'd catch me.

"Chrissy..." She took no notice. "Chrissy..."

Two rows behind us, Leah whispered to Toya as Mrs. Bell called names on the register. Toya stifled a laugh, and then my phone vibrated. I held it under the desk to see the message they'd posted to our WhatsApp group:

You deserve it. You're a fake.

Flushing, I peeled off my coat, trying to keep my movements small so as not to attract attention. My phone vibrated again. I put it away and squinted sideways, hoping to make eye contact with Rana. I had to ask her about Friday night.

Rana was sitting in the third row on the right. Sarah and Kate sat in front of her. Occasionally, Sarah and Kate came out with the five of us, and though not part of our group, we were friends. When they saw me turning around, they covered their mouths with their hands and leaned into each other, grinning.

This couldn't be happening. It had to be one of those paranoid dreams. One of those nightmares where you realize you're standing half-dressed in the middle of a busy street, or all your teeth are falling out, or everyone is trying to kill you. A vivid, detailed dream, where all my friends despised me and my Mum wanted to take me to see Dr. Fleisher. A total freaking nightmare.