Heartache High (4 page)

(
Old
school? That’s the school from
yesterday
, yeah
Steph?)

There aren’t any
white-clad serving staff, rushing back and forth behind the counter
to ensure the food keeps on coming to feed the ravenous hoard that
is a teenage student body.

There aren’t any
adults, come to think of it.

I haven’t seen a
single adult.

Anywhere.

No
teachers.

Yet they have
classes here

No cleaners, no
janitors.

Yet everywhere
looks spick and span.

No
cooks.

Yet there’s
food. What looks like endless amounts of it.

Does it ever run
out?

It doesn’t seem
to, going by the way everyone’s scooping up massive portions onto
their plates.

So, that’s one
thing you can figure out pretty quickly here; Heartache High isn’t
in the real world.

*

Some people nod
at me as they pass, or even offer a friendly greeting as they
carefully make their way to one of the long tables with their
food.

‘Hi there; saw
you wandering around looking a bit lost earlier.’

‘Hey, that’s
pretty quick you know; some kids wander around for days in a daze
before noticing anything and realising we’re all here.’

I spot Jassy and
Dave seated at one of the tables, but turn to move farther
away.

I don’t really
know them well enough to–

‘Steph; over
here!’ Dave cries out, raising a hand to attract my
attention.

Ah well; I sure
as hell need someone round here I can talk to.

They make room
for me to sit down next to them.

‘How you
settling in?’ Jassy trills, like we’re all on holiday at
Portmeirion. ‘It’s different, huh?’

‘How’d your walk
go?’ asks Dave with a knowing wink.

‘I get it,’ I
say. ‘The Mobius strips you were all playing around with; we’re all
caught in one huge Mobius strip, right?’

Dave chuckles
elatedly.

‘You picked that
up pretty fast Steph; although it’s just one of many theories
circulating about how it all works.’

‘It could be
like time, bending back on itself; you’ve read Stephen Hawking,
right?’

Jassy looks at
me like she’s asking about
Heat
magazine and it’s a given
that I’ll have read it.

‘I don’t get,’ I
say between shovelling in mouthfuls of pasta (I’m starving!),
‘we’re all trapped here, but you’re all taking it all so
coolly.’

Dave shrugs his
shoulders. Jassy pouts.

‘Well, what else
are we supposed to do? Organise escape committees?’

‘Digging
tunnels. Watching out for the searchlights.
The Great
Escape
!’

 
They both chuckle as they speak.

‘So that’s it?’
I say despondently. ‘There really is no way out of
here?’

‘Not that
anybody’s worked it out yet,’ Dave admits.

‘But why?
Why
are we all here?’

‘Well, we all
have something in common, obviously.’

‘Yeah? What? I
didn’t murder anyone. I wasn’t particularly nasty to anyone, far as
I can recall.’

‘Ah, but let me
guess,’ Jassy says. ‘There was a certain someone you told yourself
you just couldn’t face life without, right?’

‘Well, it’s
personal–’

‘Course it’s
personal!’ Dave smiles. ‘See, you asked earlier if you were dead,
yeah?’

‘Sure, what else
was I supposed to think, what with all these ghostly figure – oh,
sorry! But that’s exactly what you looked like when I
first–’

Dave raises a
hand, pulls a couldn’t-care-less expression that says that’s all
right by him.

‘Yeah, to
everybody who first arrives here too. But, think about it, Steph;
when you were back in your regular school, right, suffering all
these pangs of longing for this hunk or whatever he looked like –
you were more or less dead to the world around you, right? You lost
interest in all the things you used to enjoy doing, cos you began
to think the only way you could enjoy your life anymore was if this
guy was a part of it, right?’

‘Well, yeah,
okay, sure; but that’s hardly like being
dead
dead, is
it?’

‘Isn’t it? When
you next wander around here, take a look at the kids you see around
you. Good looking kids, most of them. But take another good look
and you’ll know what you’ll see?’

They both stare
at me expectantly, like they’re guessing I’m going to shout
‘Eureka!’ any moment now.

I shake my
head.

‘I haven’t got a
clue,’ I confess.

Dave grins, like
all along he knew I’d be stumped.

‘No one’s paring
off with anyone else. Well, hardly anyone, anyway.’

‘Sooo…’I say
unsurely. ‘And that’s because…?’

‘Because no one
could possibly compare to whoever they’ve left behind.’

‘Whether that’s
someone they never, ever managed to get off with,’ Jassy says
remarkably brightly, considering the subject, ‘or someone who
dumped them.’

Actually, she
says the last words with the bitterness of experience.

‘Wait. Are you
saying everyone is – of course! How stupid could I be?
Heartache
High!’

I almost give my
forehead a theatrical slap for being so dumb.

Jassy and Dave
regard me with all the joy of a trainer who’s just got his
favourite chimp to whistle Dixie while safely juggling three
chainsaws.

‘You mean
everyone here has had their heart broken in some way? How unfair is
that? As if we haven’t suffered enough, we all end up here, at a
school for complete losers?’

‘How unfair is
that?’ Dave laughs. ‘How many times have you asked yourself that
very question, Steph?’

‘Wait, wait a
minute!’

Something’s just
dawned on me.

Something that,
I think, blows a massive hole in whatever they told me earlier
about Heartache High.

I look about me
urgently, just checking that what I’m about to say is
correct.

Jassy and Dave
politely wait for me to gather my thoughts together.

‘There aren’t
any adults here!’

They swap
glances that say I’m stating the obvious.

‘Sure, but we
don’t need them–’

‘No, no, I don’t
mean that!’ I rudely interrupt Dave in my urgency to explain. ‘I
mean if there aren’t any adults, no one’s
aging
! Which means
they must leave here
somehow
!’

Jassy and Dave
look at me like a mum and dad who have finally got around to
telling their kid that the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny won’t
be visiting anymore.

‘That’s because
we don’t; we don’t age,’ Dave says.

He turns to
Jassy.

‘How long did
you say you reckon you’ve been here?’

‘Thirty years
maybe; it’s hard to tell, what with the way every day just seems to
blend into another.’

‘Thirty years?’
I gasp. ‘I thought you were about sixteen, seventeen at the
most!’

‘That’s because
she still is; me, I’ve only been here around fifteen
years.’

‘We don’t age,’
Jassy says with her sixteen-year-old’s smile.

‘So we stay like
this? Stay at the age we arrived here?’

Once again they
swap knowing, doubtful looks.

Jassy shakes her
head sadly.

‘No Steph. One
day you’ll be here one minute; the next you’ll have just
disappeared.’

*

The only thing
that kept me going throughout the rest of the day was the thought
that, once I was back in my bed (yes, even that minute bed) I’d be
able to dream of Iain once more.

Who knows, I
kept on telling myself, it might even be a wonderful dream like the
previous night’s.

I had a shower
in the Girls communal bathroom. I brushed my teeth.

When I got back
to my room, I slowly changed into the flimsy nightdress I’d woken
up in, building my anticipation.

I’d told myself
it wasn’t any use thinking of my mum and dad; as Jassy and Dave had
warned me, dwelling on things like that only brought you
unimaginable pain.

‘Oh,’ they’d
also added, almost as an afterthought, ‘don’t go kidding yourself
they’re going to send out the emergency services looking for you.
It’s just one of the many things we can’t figure out about this
place; how can so many kids go missing without it raising some
questions in the press? Back in what some of us still mistakenly
refer to as the real world –
this
is your real world now,
Steph – we can’t remember anything like this appearing in the news,
can you?’

To help me
sleep, I’d brought a hot milk drink back to my room. Apparently,
part of the refectory always remained open, more or less whatever
you wanted being available from there at any time of the
day.

As Dave had
tried to explain before I’d interrupted him, adults weren’t
required at Heartache High. All the chores you’d expect the school
staff to take care of were performed by unseen hands.

Thankfully,
sleep came quickly.

The dreams
seemed to come almost at once.

I was with
Iain.

Boy, was I with
Iain!

Yeah, we’ve
still got our clothes on; but somehow I’ve managed to make what I
recognise as my regular clothes look like something out of one of
the catalogues Cherry had found under her mum’s bed.

My voice has
dropped an octave.

Iain gazes into
my eyes like each one’s a full moon about to transform him into a
howling werewolf.

I stroke his
neck with a hand that seems to be pushing buttons, putting him
completely under my control.

Was this really
me, doing all these things?

They say absence
makes the heart grow fonder, but this wasn’t love; it was unbridled
lust!

If it were a
movie, I’d be barred by mum and dad from seeing it.

Even Iain seems
a bit amazed by it all.

He’s the one
holding back, saying, Steph, don’t you think we’re rushing into
things here?

According to my
dreams, Iain obviously doesn’t live up to the reputation the
school’s gossip merchants had given him.

He’s the one
who’s shy, nervous – inexperienced.

(Wow, says
little miss innocence here!)

Where did I
learn all this stuff I’m getting up to?

Not from any
books I’ve read.

Not from any
magazines or films either.

These are
techniques any sensible girl would be taking notes of for future
use.

*

When I wake up,
I’m disappointed.

I’m still
here.

Still in this
pokey little room at Heartache High.

There was a part
of me that was still hoping all this would turn out to be a
prolonged dream and I’d wake up safe and warm back at home after
all.

No such
luck.

Yesterday, Jassy
and Dave had told me I should just turn up for whichever class I
fancied.

There was always
a list in the main porch, detailing what each class would be
dealing with.

It wouldn’t say
who was taking it of course; if you felt you had something
important to say – either something you wanted to get off your
chest, or something important you thought you might have figured
out – you would effectively be the lecturer for the day.

I thought about
seeking out Jassy and Dave.

I thought no; I
still had a ridiculous amount of things whirling around in my head
that I felt better dealing with myself.

I didn’t feel
like completely opening up my inner thoughts – let alone my inner
turmoil – to anyone else just yet.

As I studied the
list of classes, I noticed that a girl was standing just outside
the porch, looking up at the carved lettering.

Chatting groups
of people were passing her on either side, but she didn’t seem to
realise they were there. She just looked about herself blankly,
like she was too tied up in her own misery to notice anything else
going on around her.

How could she
not see all these passing people? It didn’t seem possible, but I’d
missed them all too.

As Dave had more
or less said, I’d been too wrapped up in my own sad little world to
pay any interest to anyone else.