CHAPTER III

- silence and slow time –

[Liam]

Liam's AS English Literature class was an 11-strong group of eager looking students, seated around a square arrangement of desks in room 8B. It was a small, comfortable room that overlooked the only patch of grass at school, framed by trees and ornamental plants. Apparently, it used to be a library, and perhaps because of this always smelled faintly like old books; the perfect setting for an English class, he decided.

His teacher was a fortysomething man with neatly combed back dark hair and an enthusiastic grin. "It's good to meet you all," he said, after he'd walked in and sat on the desk in front of the whiteboard. "My name is Mr. Maddison. I'll let you in on a secret: this year is going to be brilliant. I've been looking over the set works this term and they're all fantastic. Now, before we start, let me just put something out there: I hate lessons where I just talk and you write down what I say and then copy it back out onto an exam paper. That's not real English, that's copywriting. I'm not being to paid to lecture; you have to wait until you start going to University to get that kind of privilege.

"What I want from you is participation. I want us to really understand the set works we're going to do this year, and to do that, each and every one of you needs to pull your own weight. Trust me, I've taught A-level classes where nobody talked, and I can honestly say that I think I wasted a year of my life there. Don't get me wrong, I'll teach you absolutely as best as I can; this is a good school and you all worked hard to get here. But I want you guys to do absolutely your best with me too. Talk with me, and with each other. And if you guys stick to that golden rule, I'll give you cake. Do we have a deal?"

The class exchanged glances and nodded enthusiastically. Liam grinned. Free cake and all he had to do was talk? This was his kind of English lesson.

"Good. I can tell you and I are going to get on just fine. Now, I'd have liked to jump straight into our set works today, but we're all going down to the Main Hall in a little to listen to a talk about the representation of Nature in Romantic Poetry, which ties in quite neatly with the poetry we'll be doing this year, so I couldn't have asked for a better beginning. In the meantime, I want to find out a bit more about yourselves, so I've prepared a little questionnaire."

He handed out a sheet of A4 paper for them to fill in. Some questions were academic: Of the following set works, which are you familiar with/heard of: Keats – Ode on a Grecian Urn/Ode to a Nightingale/To Autumn; Coleridge – The Rime of the Ancient Mariner; Fitzgerald – The Great Gatsby; Shakespeare - The Tempest, or Of the set works you have studied up to A-level, which was the one you enjoyed the most and why? What about the least? Some were more about themselves, verging on the slightly scatty: what is the most recent book you read? What do you plan on studying at University? Give the name and a quick summary of the best TV series you've watched this year (I'm looking for something to get addicted to this term). What is your spirit animal?

After 15 minutes he took them all in and promised to look them over before they're next lesson, before ushering them off to the hall so they could get seats for the lecture. They started off in a big clump, but people who had been at the school already had friends and started to separate off into smaller groups, and Liam was still considering things and started to lag behind the main group, thinking. Anthea had come up to him in his further maths class yesterday and told him he'd got the part of Ezra's sound double and he had rehearsals two nights a week, plus emergency sessions the last three lunchtimes this week to learn the lines and choreography. He wasn't sure whether or not to tell his parents he was performing; he knew they'd disapprove. It would probably be easier to tell them he'd signed up for maths club or something instead. Besides, he hadn't picked a name for this other thing he'd been roped into, and he'd been thinking about it for a while. He kind of liked the idea of having a codename, it made him seem more badass, somehow...

He'd reached the hall, which was quickly filling up with people. His English class had scattered, so he picked a seat at the edge of a row in the middle of the hall, and then glanced up at the clock. The lecture was supposed to start at 10:10, and it was only 10 now, which gave him enough time to pop to the canteen and get himself a snack or something. He left his bag down on his chair as a placeholder and headed up the stairs, pushing open the heavy wooden doors that led to the hall and making his way down the corridor. He'd only been here for about three days now, but he knew his way around well and reached the canteen with no difficulty.

The place was quiet now: there were only a few year 13's in there on the sofas, probably because they had free periods now instead of classes. He bought himself an apple – they called them Golden Delicious for a reason - and a bar of chocolate, and made his way back to the main hall in good time, only to find his seat was now occupied. And the two beside them. Annoyed, he came over to them: a bunch of girls, two of them talking animatedly to each other, and the third one on her phone. Did they not see his stuff on the chair? He wondered, irritated. The nerve of some people.

"You're in my seat," he said. The girl in his seat was talking too loudly to her friend and either didn't hear or pretended not to – it was busy in the auditorium and it might have been difficult to hear – so he tapped her on the shoulder and said it again. She swung round abruptly, caught sight of him, and gave a short, sarcastic laugh.

"Wow, are you sure you've got the right place? I think the primary school's down the street from here."

Liam cringed inwardly. He wasn't that short, for God's sake. "No, actually I'm–"

"And why the hell are you talking to me?" she cut him off abruptly. Despite her rudeness, Liam had to admit she was stunning – wide hazel-brown eyes, rimmed with a thin layer of eyeliner, lightly tanned skin, and glossy brown hair that fell around her shoulders in smooth waves.

"I was sitting here," he said, for the third time.

"Yeah, so?" she asked. "We're sitting here now, so get lost."

"I sat here first," he replied obstinately, chafing at her tone. "I left my bag here to show it. That's what people do."

She looked around innocently and smiled. "Aw, shame. I don't see a bag."

Liam too, looked around, and no, he didn't see a bag either. "Well, what did you do with it?"

"Nothing. There wasn't a bag here, dumbass."

"There was," he replied, annoyed. He glanced around, but the hall had filled up quite a bit while he was out and there weren't any chairs nearby that he could see. "So where do you expect me to sit?"

"Do I look like I care? Why are you so hung up on a stupid chair anyway? There are like a billion chairs in this room. Jesus, you're like a whiny five-year old."

"But this one here is my chair," he pointed out.

"What part of 'you can't sit with us' do you not understand?"

"No, I don't want to sit with you," he said. "I don't want to be anywhere near you. I just want my bag and my seat back, both of which you stole from me."

"And what are you going to do about it?" she replied. "Keep throwing your cute little tantrum? Real mature."

Ugh, this girl was pissing him off. "Have you been a bitch all your life?" 

"Woooow. Is that what your parents taught you?" She said, grinning. "Walk up to a girl and call her a bitch to her face? You're gonna have a sad, lonely life with that attitude."

The people around them were turning to look, nudging their friends and whispering. The girl sitting next to her looked up slowly and spoke then, sounding bored. She had an elegant, intelligent face, green eyes and light brown hair, straight and cut at an angle at her jawline, framing her face. "Why can't he just sit next to Diana?" she asked, nodding at the two or three chairs next to the girl beside her, who was texting rapidly on her phone, so engrossed she hadn't even heard the conversation.

"He can't sit there," she said angrily, turning on her. "Aaron's sitting there, remember?"

"Why have Aaron here when you can have this catch?" she said, gesturing to Liam. He shifted uncomfortably, not sure if he was being made fun of or not. It was hard to tell by her expression or her tone of voice; sure, she was teasing, but who? Her friend or him? There was something about her that was hard to make out.

"Shut up, Jen," the other girl snapped. "This loser can't sit with us."

"Well, where else is he going to sit, Ally?"

Liam looked at Jen quizzically, wondering why she was defending him. She caught his eye and gave a quick, sly smile, almost inviting him to join in, which, considering Ally had stolen his seat and quite possibly all his stuff, he was more than happy to do.

"I don't care where he sits. Besides, I told Aaron I'd save him a seat, so it's taken. Now get lost." Ally said, angrily.

"Aw come on," Liam said, wheedling. "I won't tell him if you won't. Our little secret."

"Now you're just being ridiculous."

Jen shrugged. "The lecture's just about to start anyway; might as well give it to him."

"Whose side are you on anyway?"

"'Course I'm on your side, Ally. I'm just thinking, what if he doesn't show up? Like that time in–"

Ally reddened sharply. "I said we're not gonna talk about that!"

"Sorry, you did," Jen said innocently. "My mistake."

"I'll just keep it warm for him, then," Liam offered. "I'll be subtle about it, don't worry. You won't even know I'm there. That way if he does ditch you again we're both covered."

Ally shot him a murderous glare, and Jen bit her lip, her eyes lighting up with silent laughter. Liam liked the subtle way her expression changed: easy to miss if you weren't looking for it, but when he noticed it, it sent quick shivers of exhilaration skittering across him. The sudden rush of feeling surprised him, feeling his face flush slightly.

"Piss. Off," Ally said, through clenched teeth. "I already told you: you're not sitting here."

"She says I can," he answered, nodding at Jen.

"And who died and made her Queen?" Ally replied, scornfully. "You think I take orders from either of you two losers?"

Jen smiled. "Oh, you're calling me a loser now?"

"Yeah, I'm calling you a loser, after you keep bringing up something I tell you to never talk about, and now in front of this self-entitled brat and everyone within earshot!" she turned round to look at the people in the row behind her who had leaned in slightly to catch the conversation. "That includes all you nosy little pricks! God, this school is full of idiots. Why did we come to this stupid lecture anyway?"

"How about you sit on his lap or something?" he offered, enjoying this now. If you can't beat them, piss them off. "If you two are that close it shouldn't be an issue..."

"What we're doing is none of your business," she said, "and if I were you I'd just shut up, turn your dumbass face away from me and go sit with the nerds in the front row. I think they're more your speed."

Liam opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, a couple of boys arrived them, pushing past Liam and filing into the row beside them. One of them put his arm round Ally's shoulder and gave her a quick kiss. He noticed the girls in the row behind them nudging their friends and giggling and rolled his eyes. Why did girls do that? Sure, both guys were really good looking: Aaron tall, well-built, with serious, narrow green eyes, an angled face and a kind of elusive quirk at the edge of his mouth that might have been a smile. "Thanks for saving me a seat, babe," he said, to Ally. 

"No problem," she replied, and smirked at Liam as he and his friend filled up the row, leaving him properly stranded. "There you go, run along now," she told him, in a patronising voice. "And if you think you're ever getting this back–" she said scornfully, reaching underneath her seat and pulling out his rucksack, "don't. I hope you don't have anything important in here."

"Give that back!" he said, making a grab for it, but she snatched it away, grinning, and onstage, the Head of the English Department stepped onto the stage below them, with a smartly-dressed woman behind her. He scowled at her, but he was out of time now, and she knew it. He hesitated, not knowing what to do.

Jen looked at him. "There are some seats a few rows back if you want them," she murmured, lifting her head in their direction. "Probably the best you can get right now."

"What about my bag?" he asked, but she just shrugged and looked away. The dismissal felt like a betrayal, and her words stung. He'd thought...

Ally nudged him painfully in the ribs with an evil little grin. "Aw, that's cute," she told him, matter-of-factly. "You thought she cared about you, didn't you?"

"No," he protested, but in truth, she'd hit the nail on the head and they both knew it.

"Well, good. She'd never be interested in someone like you anyway."

One of the English teachers 'shushed' them loudly from a couple of rows above. "Sit down, now," he commanded in a harsh whisper, glaring at Liam.

"Go on, you heard him," Ally said, nudging him.

"Alright, I'm going," he muttered, sloping off. Jen was right, there were a couple of seats a few rows up, right in the middle which meant he had to wade past a line to people to get there, but at that point in time it wasn't really like he could complain.

"-pleased to have Dr Miller, eminent professor of 19th Century Prose and Poetry, here with us," Miss Stanmore was saying, by the time he'd settled down properly. "Dr Miller has extensive knowledge of the subject matter and her essays have been recognised by many major institutions as top-class, so I'm sure what she has prepared for you today will be extremely enlightening, if not, at the very least, relevant to your A-level syllabus. Dr Miller, everybody."

Polite applause. Liam propped his feet up on the spare seat next to him and munched thoughtfully on his apple, unable to concentrate on the lecture. Normally, he'd have put his bag on the chair next to him and enjoyed the extra legroom, but unfortunately he was down a bag. He was still slightly pissed at Ally, and slightly confused at Jen. For a moment, when they were working together to wind her up, he'd felt something between them, a kind of connection. But the cold way she'd ignored him afterwards hurt, and he wasn't sure why she'd just stopped working with him so quickly. Sure, she'd helped him find a seat, but was that an actual act of kindness, or just because she wanted to get rid of him? Was she sticking up for him because she liked him, or just to annoy Ally? He couldn't figure her out at all.

And yet, there was something about her, that sly way she'd smiled at him, the playful look she'd got in her eyes when they were on the same side, however short it was for, that he couldn't shake. Her eyes had an unusual colour to them as well: woody green with flecks of brown at the edges. She wasn't as pretty as Ally, not by a long shot, but...Liam couldn't describe it, and he couldn't escape it, either.

Poets, he thought, steering his mind back to the lecture. Actually, there was an idea. He knew tons of romantic poets. Familiar names; they kept cropping up, in lessons and out. He still needed to pick a name, and what better place to start in a lecture about romantic poets, he figured. He went through them in turn, testing the names. Shelly was out: too feminine. Wordsworth? Hmm, no. Coleridge, maybe, although perhaps not with the whole 'addicted to opium' thing. Byron? He liked the sound of Byron: his English teacher at his old school had described him as 'mad, bad and dangerous to know'. Anyone with an introduction like that had to be interesting. But there was an obnoxious kid at his old school called Byron as well, and he couldn't quite shake the association. Keats? Hmm...He'd had a pretty terrible life, too, thinking about it, but the name wasn't awful. Keats, he thought to himself, trying it out. It had a ring to it that he liked...

He tried to follow Ally once the lecture was over, at least so he could get his bag back, but even amidst the jostle of the students as they filed out, trying to get out quickly for the lunch break, they parted slightly to let the group of them walk out, and by the time he got out of the hallway they'd gone. There was no time to hunt them down right now: he needed to get to his further maths lesson. He was taking an extra AS level, so they had an extra period sometimes, during the first hour of lunch. Anthea lent him a pen in their further maths lesson and said he could keep it, which was nice of her.

He found his bag much later, crammed into a recycling bin in the Year 12 common room. The damage was fairly minimal: his English specification and his homework diary had been scribbled all over with permanent marker and a mixture of damning slurs and comments regarding his sexuality; the paper had been ripped out of his notebook, leaving just the front and back cover and the ring binding, slightly bent, and all his pencils had been methodically snapped in half, even the mechanical ones, which must have taken some effort. His phone and his inhaler and bus card and money were still there, though, so it looked like Ally wasn't a full-blown criminal yet, which he supposed was a relief. On the downside, nobody would take it seriously if he tried to complain about this. He doubted the school would get very excited about missing notebook paper. He wondered if Jen had been involved in this, or tried to stop it.

He couldn't picture her doing either.

He sighed, pulled out his phone. Stop thinking about this girl, he told himself sternly, and typed out quick message to Dom to take his mind off everything. It had been a weird day, that was for sure.

> Hey Dom, it's me. From Tuesday? I've picked a name for your group thingy. I'm going with Keats.

Dom replied almost immediately:

> Awesome name! The poet, right? So glad I dropped English.

> Anyway, rehearsals start Monday next week.

> Room 8B, 5:00pm

> Be there or be □

---

a/n: eyyy chapter three! updating is fun :)

soo...what to say about this chapter? Not much, actually, apart from my weird habit of including questionnaires like everywhere these days. Also, some important people introduced here (same as the last two updates) - including the one true love of Liam's short life, Jennifer Reid. (I do give my characters surnames, I just forget to include them. Bonus material XD) Do you like her? Do you think she likes Liam? That's the real question here. We'll probably never know...

ofc Diana and Ally are also important characters, and feature more heavily later on, too, so keep an eye out for them :D

Wow, there isn't even a multimedia or anything for this chapter right now. I might put some artwork there later, if i ever get round to it :D 

In the meantime, thanks for reading and tune in next update! 

Love ya x