Lost for Words Read Online Free Page B

Haynes, hates me. She sees Emily when she looks at me, I’m sure.
    We had Art today. Mrs. Haynes wanted me to hand in my prep work. How stupid is that? To do prep work for a painting? Surely I should just do the painting, not sketch it first and waste time? I tried to explain to her that I didn’t understand what a sketch was for and she yelled, “Sophie, we can’t keep forgiving you for your failure to do the work you’re given!”
    I think she realized she’d gone too far, because her cheeks reddened. I’ve always thought she looked like a little witch with her sharp cheekbones and spiky hair, but in that moment she looked like a kid, all sorry and guilty. Then she looked like a witch again as she spat, “If you don’t know what a sketch is, I can’t see you ever passing your exam.” She walked away, her spine stiff.
    Abigail and Megan were sitting at the same table as me. Abigail must have been able to tell I was about to crybecause when I caught her eye she smiled over helplessly, as there was nothing she could do.
    Rage fired through my body and heat roared like flames to my cheeks. I shoved my stuff into my bag, knocking my pencils onto the floor. Leaving them there, I started walking.
    Mrs. Haynes screamed, “Where are you going?”
    I kept walking, my cheeks hot as sunburn, and I let the door slam as I stormed out of the room.
    Walking around school when everyone else is in lessons feels like walking around a cemetery. So quiet. My feet echoed down the white steps. I wondered what it might be like to climb white steps to heaven, if there even is a heaven. But I was going down. Getting farther from heaven with every step. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I pushed the double doors to go outside. It had started to drizzle.
    The feeble rain dampened my shirt because I hadn’t remembered my things. I hoped Abi would bring my jumper and blazer from the back of my chair where I’d left them. I rolled down my skirt so it covered most of my thighs. Shivering, I hurried toward the corrugated iron lean-to at the back of the field where Abi and I used to hang out, where she used to smoke and I used to chat. Abi and I spent so many hours back there planning for the future, talking about our families—her mum who drinks too much, my mum who worked too hard, talking about our sisters and her brother—talking about boys and schooland everything. I need to make more of an effort with Abi. I’m the one who keeps screwing it all up. I’m surprised she still even likes me.
    The field was squelchy with mud. I worried a teacher would be able to see me from the Addley Building. I imagined the music teacher over there running from her room and making me go back inside. No one came out. No one cared.
    When I got to the lean-to, I expected it to be empty, but Rosa-Leigh was there, her arms wrapped around herself as she stamped from foot to foot. She was gazing out at the trees and didn’t seem to have noticed me. I said, “What are you doing here?”
    She shrugged. “I dunno. I could ask you the same.”
    “I hate Mrs. Haynes,” I said, as if that explained anything.
    She said, “I hate all of England. I wish I could go back.”
    “Me, too,” I said.
    “Go back where?”
    “It doesn’t matter,” I replied, realizing how stupid I must sound.
    She stepped to the edge of the lean-to and craned her neck to look at the sky. “It rains all the time here.”
    “I know.”
    “How do you live with it?”
    “I guess I’m used to it,” I said. Then, “I walked out ofArt. I’m going to get detention.”
    She said, “Don’t you think it’s dumb that we have to wear uniforms?”
    “You don’t in Canada?”
    She shook her head, her hair sleek, even with the damp.
    I said, “I should go back.”
    “You can’t if you walked out.”
    “I’m going to be in so much trouble.”
    “Don’t worry about it.” She picked up her bag. “You know, I didn’t mean to be quite so…you know…unfriendly…when I first met