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7
Ifind my room easily enough. On the way, I pass several other kids lingering about the site, all boys, but I pay them no attention. Even when they jeer and catcall, I ignore them. Their sniggers and remarks about my appearance don’t even penetrate the hardened exterior I’ve built up over the years. I’m tough enough not to let a few names hurt me.
Besides, I’ve got plenty of time to work everyone out over the coming days and my phone is burning a hole in my back pocket because it’s filled with messages that I really need to answer. Opening the door to my new room, I take in my surroundings. It’s larger than I expected. A single bed is tucked in the corner, the duvet, sheets and pillows folded up at the foot of the bed. There’s a wardrobe, a desk and chair, and the room is painted white. On the opposite wall to the bed is another door, through the gap I can see a shower. Ensuite then? That’s a bonus, I suppose. Otherwise the room is bland, boring. Clinical almost, and in desperate need of colour. I’m itching to fill the space with my art, the huge expanse of white wall is just begging to be painted. Then I remember why I’m here and sigh. Apart from sketching in my pad, I haven’t tried to do any graffiti art lately. Toeing the line hasn’t been easy, but I keep reminding myself of my little brothers so my sketchpad will have to do.
Wandering over to my bed, I dump my rucksack on top of the mattress and look out of the window. The academy building and residential annex are surrounded with fields and sits high on a hill away from Hastings’ seafront and town centre. I have a great view of the town that’s filled with hotels, houses and little bijou shops (or so Tracy told me). Just beyond is the seafront and an endless ocean that stretches out to meet the horizon.
This is the first time I’ve seen the ocean, and for a while I just stare out at the dark blue expanse, mesmerised by just howbigit is. The closest I’ve got to the ocean is the dirty grey-brown water of the River Thames. Not exactly comparable.
I lean my head against the windowpane, my breath misting up the glass as I take in the view. Today, the sky is clear and the sun warm and bright, that combined with the surrounding fields gives the impression of space and freedom. In reality, I’m just as trapped here as I would be if I were behind bars. It’s not as if we’re going to be given permission to leave the grounds, and I know from Annie that there’s a ten pm curfew. Apparently, the residential staff will do their rounds every evening at that time to ensure that we’re all in our rooms. Urgh. I do remember reading about the curfew from thewelcome packAnnie shoved at me this morning when I got in the car, but that’s about it. Mainly, I just flicked through and mused over the fact whoever produced the brochure has made Oceanside out to be like some holiday park. The kids photographed on it are most definitely models handpicked to give a good impression. In fact, the whole thing had made me feel a little nauseous. I prefer honesty, not bullshit.
Pulling out my phone from my back pocket, I scroll through the texts. A couple are from Tracy wishing me good luck and asking me to stay out of trouble… I roll my eyes at that. Trouble seems to follow me wherever I go; she knows that better than anyone. I fire off a quick response, promising to call her as soon as I’ve settled in.
The rest of the messages are from Eastern.
U still mad?
I’m sorry I didn’t tell u sooner.
I knew u’d be pissed.
I know what we promised each other.
But u know I didn’t have a choice.
I don’t, Alicia…
Camden ain’t that bad. Seriously.
I snort at that one. Not bad? Yeah, right. He’s bad as bad can be, and that’s coming from me who’s on the wrong side of the line already.
Ok, maybe a little bit. But he looks after his own.
Fuck, Alicia I can’t believe u tried to punch him!
I grimace. It wasn’t the best decision I’ve ever made. In fact, in the cold light of day I know it’stheworst decision. Pretty sure I’ve made an enemy for life… it’s just as well I’m here then and Camden’s back in Hackney.
The drop-off will go okay…
“For fuck sake, Eastern,” I mutter, my throat suddenly constricting with worry. Eastern is part of the Hackney Hackers crew now. He’s drug running for Camden, the actual gang leader who I insulted. Will Eastern’s life be made hell just because he’s friends with me? I’ve put Eastern in an impossible position all because I couldn’t control my anger.
I promise not 2 get into any shit.
Well, not too much anyway…
Alicia… answer me.
Is your head still banging? Mine is. That shit was strong!
There are a lot of puke emojis after this message, but I refuse to smile at his change in tactics.
Are u going to ignore me 4ever?
I miss u.
My heart bleeds a little at that.
Fuck, Asia. I just want 2 talk.
