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Red snatches her arm from Bram’s hold and leans in close. “This ain’t over. You don’t take Ford from us and get away with it,” she whispers, before pulling back. “I apologise,” she says loud enough for Mr Burnside to hear, but we both know that it isn’t sincere.
“Good. Now you can go,” Mr Burnside adds.
Red spins on her heel and storms out of the rec room. Bram grunts, then follows her. Kate rushes over. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Never better,” I respond with a reassuring smile. “Shall we head up to my room. I don’t feel much like watching TV now.”
“Sure.”
“Actually, Mr Carmichael would like to speak with you, Asia,” Mr Burnside says, his face a mask.
“Why?” I’m instantly in defence mode, suspicious.
“Come with me, please,” he responds, not giving anything away.
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Kate asks, she squeezes my arm briefly, giving me a sympathetic look. I wonder if she knows what this is all about, but the concern on her face tells me she doesn’t. Generally, when a student is called to Mr Carmichael’s office it isn’t for a nice chat about good behaviour. Fucking perfect.
“Asia, now if you wouldn’t mind.”
“I do actually,” I mumble, but I follow Mr Burnside anyway.
Instead of taking me to Mr Carmichael’s office like I thought he would, Mr Burnside walks me out the back of the main building and heads towards the car park behind the annex where Mr Carmichael is waiting for us.
“What’s this about?” I ask.
Mr Carmichael points to the wall he’s standing next to. On it is my name, mytaggraffitied onto the wall in bright blue spray paint. What the actual fuck?
“Care to explain this?” he says.
“That piece of shit tag has nothing to do with me!” I exclaim. Whilst it’s actually fucking amazingly good, it’s about as far from my style as you can get and closer to someone else’s I know so well.
“It’s your name, and you’re the only graffiti writer here,Asia,” he insists.
“This is bullshit. Just because it’s my name doesn’t mean it’s my work. A tag is like a fingerprint, it’s unique. This wasn’t me.”
“Who then, if not you?” he looks at Mr Burnside, touching his arm gently. “I got this.”
Mr Burnside looks at me with an almost apologetic smile. “Just be honest,” he says, then leaves.
“I can’t have my school falling into disrepute, Asia. There’s been too much going on lately that needs addressing and for some reason it all seems to centre around you.”
“This wasn’t me!” I repeat. “Do you honestly think that I would do this knowing I could get thrown out of Oceanside and chucked into juvie for it? Despite what everyone seems to think, I’m not a complete fucking idiot.”
“No, you’re not an idiot. I actually think you’re extremely bright.”
“Then why accuse me of something that has nothing to do with me?”
“You want the truth?” he asks me.
“Yes, I want the truth.” I fold my arms across my chest defensively. Here we go.
“I don’t thinkyouwould, but I need to knowwhodid and why.”
“Take your fucking pick,” I snap back. I know exactly who did this. This reeks of Camden, ofBling, but I don’t give that away. I won’t.
“What do you mean by that?”
“You said it yourself; all the shit that’s going on here centres around me apparently. Hazard a guess. It could be any of the arseholes here.” And it’s true, even though I know who did this, bar a handful, any one of the people here could’ve been capable. Fuck knows what I did to deserve this… Oh, yeah, wait. Camden drew a line in the sand before I even arrived here.
