The Recruit

7. Shrink

Ash had always been in mixed schools, but West Road was all boys. The lack of girls gave the place an air of menace. It was noisier and everybody in the corridor pushed harder than at his old school. It felt like something could go off any second.

A Year Seven got a hard shove from a Year Ten and knocked into Ash. The kid went down and yelped as the Year Ten stamped his hand. The kids were all heading somewhere. Ash had a map that made no sense whichever way he turned it.

"Nice bag, girlie," somebody said. Ash thought it was aimed at him. The bag was a wreck. He decided to steal one from some weed the first chance he got. The bodies were all disappearing into classrooms and within a couple of minutes Ash only had a few late arrivals for company.

A couple of nasty looking Year Ten kids blocked Ash's way. One of them had spiked hair and a Metallica T-shirt under his hoodie. Both were wearing menacing-looking steeltoe-capped boots with fat laces dragging behind.

"Where you going, squirt?" Ash looked up at them, thinking he was going to die before he even made it to his first class.

"Registration," he said. The Metallica kid snatched the map out of Ash's hand.

"Well, you're not going to make it," Metallica said. Ash braced himself for a boot or fist.

"Try using the side of the map that says main building, not annexe. It's over there." Metallica turned the map over and handed it back to Ash. He pointed at a yellow door up a corridor on the left.

"Thanks," Ash said.

He hurried off. Metallica shouted after him: "Lose that bag if I was you." Ash looked back at the bag. He could see it was tatty but why all the fuss?

Ash handed his form teacher a note. All the kids in his new class were staring at him as he looked for a seat. He sat at the end of a row, next to a black kid called Jermaine.

"You one of the little orphans from the council home?" Jermaine asked. The kids sitting around Ash laughed. Ash knew first impressions counted. If he said nothing he'd look soft. His reply had to be sharp, but not so nasty it started a fight.

"How'd you know?" Ash said. "I suppose your mum saw me when she cleaned our toilets." The group of kids laughed. Jermaine looked angry for a second, then he laughed too.

"Like your bag, sister," he said. Ash had had enough with the bag. He took it off and looked. Then he looked at Jermaine's bag and the others around him. It wasn't the same colour. Nor was anyone else's.

"What is this bag?" Ash asked.

"The good news, orphan," Jermaine said, 'is that you have a West Road bag. But it's for the girls school, not the boys." Ash laughed with the others. These kids seemed OK. He was angry Brock had tricked him, though.

Ash left at lunchtime to see the counsellor. His office was on the second floor of Coumarine. It had spider plants branching off everywhere. The counsellor, Ramos, was a rake, barely taller than Ash. He had veins poking out of his hands that Ash didn't want to look at and he sounded really old fashioned, like a western saloon manager.

"Would you feel more comfortable in the chair or on the couch?" Ash had seen all the psychiatrist scenes on TV and felt he had to lie on the couch to get the full effect.

"Cool," he said, settling himself down. "I could sleep all night on this." Ramos walked slowly around the room, lowering the blinds so it was almost dark. He sat down.

"I want you to be relaxed around me, Ash. Everything you say stays between us. When you talk, don't try and say the correct thing; say what you really think, and remember I'm here to help you young whippersnapper."