Jelly Cooper: Alien

“Hey, Jelly”.

Agatha and Humphrey push their way through the throng of people mooching around the yard, waiting for the school busses.

“So, what time shall we meet later to go to Thorn’s, or are we going to meet there?”

“Well, well. Look at the little fairy boy with his girlfriends.”

Humphrey’s face freezes. His turns to Michael Marks.

“Leave it Michael.”

Marks sniggers, it’s an ugly sound, mirroring the ugly expression on his face. He shoves Humphrey in the chest. Humphrey stumbles and struggles to stay on his feet, but Marks steps forward and pushes him again, sending him crashing into a group of year seven kids. A couple of them wind up on the floor and Humphrey, bright red in the face, scrambles to his feet and hurries to help them up.

My heart starts beating an irregular pattern.

Now I know that Michael doesn’t want to cause trouble today, of all days. I’ve been putting up with this kind of rubbish for months and, what with the sleep depravation, the alien thing, and having to make friends with a cheerleader, it’s all getting a bit much.

“He said LEAVE IT, moron.”

I step in between Humphrey and the leering giant. I stare into Marks’ face and see the ugly rage in his eyes. He is, for a moment, unrecognizable.

He hates Humphrey. He really, truly, hates him, for no reason at all. Jut because he exists.

I fight the temptation to spit in Michael Marks’ face. I know that spitting in his face is a very bad thing to want to do, and I know that I’ll hate myself for it, but I really have had enough of this bullying crap.

“Look at the size of your head!” I decide to wind him up. “It’s massive! God, I’ve never noticed how big your head is before! You could have your own solar system with a head that size. Now, tell the truth, has your mother ever taken you to the doctor to see about that massive noggin? No? She really should have. Did something happen to you when you were a baby?”

Marks roars and pulls back his hand.

Bloody hell, he’s going to hit me!

I step back just as a collective ‘woooooooooo-ooooooooo’ ripples around the growing crowd.

Marks looks round in confusion, hand stalled mid-air, as he takes in the fact that he’s got an audience.

That’s right, no-brain, hit a girl in front of all these people and try and get away with it.

“I should have known,” I say, loud enough for people to hear. “You hit girls. You like to fight with girls. You’re a woman-beater. Is it because of the massively disproportionate size of your head? Does that have something to do with how you want to hit girls? Poor Michael. If only you’d seen a doctor when you were little.”

Marks’ mouth hangs open. Whispers and giggles from the crowd grow louder. The tables turned for the first time in his life, he seems unsteady on his feet, like a prize fighter hit by a lucky punch.

He’s distracted and I grab the opportunity. I have a wicked idea.

“And that’s rich anyway, coming from you, Marks. Look at the little fairy boy with his girlfriends,” I mimic. “So let me get this straight. Humphrey hangs around with girls and he’s a ‘fairy’,” I make exaggerated speech marks in the air. “Whereas you hang around a load of boys in the changing room, naked, and we’re supposed to believe what – that you’re some kind of stallion?”

I turn to Agatha.

“Maybe this explains his infatuation with Humphrey.”

Agatha nods.

“It would explain a lot.”

I fold my arms across my chest and click my tongue, delighted to see Marks blush to the roots of his blonde hair.

“What is it they say, Michael? People that live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”

Marks shakes his fists and roars.

“What are you talking about? Big heads, glass houses, stones? He’s the fairy, not me!”

Yup, just as I suspected: IQ of a cabbage.

I decide to push it that little bit more.

“Although I suppose that if I were unfortunate enough to be going out with Trisha ‘I love shopping, tee hee’ Gibson, then I might be tempted to switch sides. That girl does the female race no favours.”

Some of the girls in the crowd laugh, others whisper in groups: this is gossip fodder too good to miss. Todd looks like an over ripe tomato about to split its skin. He makes a strangled noise deep in his throat.

A voice rings out from the crowd.

“Michael, is there something you want to tell us?”

Marks spins and shouts,

“Who said that? WHO SAID THAT? I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”

A hand touches my sleeve. Turning, I find myself face-to-face with Humphrey.

“Jelly, this is crazy. You don’t have to defend me,” he whispers, his eyes locked onto Michael’s hulk-like frame. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

I shrug off his hand.

“I know what I’m doing.”

Humphrey rolls his eyes.

“Jelly…”

His voice is firm, but I know Humphrey better than I know myself. I can see the glint in his eye, the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He’s enjoying this as much as I am; he just isn’t ready to admit it yet. I laugh and wink at him.

“Relax. Trust me; you’re going to come out of this a lot better than he is.”

I glance at Marks as he scans the crowd and thunders “WHO SAID THAT?” His neck is bulging way too much to be healthy.

The crowd shuffles and I look up to see Trisha pushing her way through the throng, elbowing people out of the way in her haste to reach me and presumably scratch out my eyes. Melissa is close behind, followed by a weary-looking Rhiannon. I note with some amusement that for the first time in her life, Rhiannon is bringing up the rear. Our eyes locked and I know what she’s about to do.

It’s the wrong thing.

She’s going to try and stop Trisha. I shake my head. Too dangerous, can’t risk arousing suspicion. Yesterday we were at each other’s throat and today we’re on the same side? Like that’s not going to get the grey matter working overtime.

’Don’t get involved,’ my eyes flash, ‘I’m OK.’

Rhiannon inclines her head to show that she understands as Trisha screeches to a halt at the edge of the circle.

I notice with a start that Marks is staggering towards me, his mouth drawn back in a snarl. I focus and prepare to unleash everything at him.

“Hey Michael, where are your changing room buddies?”

“Yeah, do you want me to go and get them so they can hold your hand?”

Marks falters.

High school can be sooooo cruel.

The anonymous voices are music to my ears. No way is Marks going to recover from this. There are some uncomfortable times ahead, for sure. I think with glee, for the first time in my life, of football practice, rugby practice…any practice! Oh, I could rub my hands together!

With a strangled cry, Michael Marks launches himself at me.

Oops, I’d forgotten about him.

Just in time, I step to the side and stick out my foot. Marks trips, stumbles and lands on the floor with an almighty thud. Crouching down beside him, I lock my eyes on his, lean forward and whisper,

“You think that this afternoon has turned into your own personal nightmare? That was nothing.” I spell it out for him. “Nothing. Try that again and you’ll see exactly what I’m capable of.”

Marks tries to get up, so I lock him down with invisible chains. I tilt my head forward, my hair swinging in a curtain around my face and hiding my eyes. I summon the fire. Green irises form a perfect frame for the orange flames that leap and dance in the depths of my pupils.

Marks head recoils as if I’ve spontaneously combusted. Ha! I instruct the flames to flare once, magnificently, and then die. I blink and they’re gone.

Marks moans; a small wretched noise from the pit of his stomach. I release him and he scrambles to his feet and lurches through the crowd.

I watch him go, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. A smile that promptly dies as I catch sight of Trisha. She stares at me with pure loathing. Melissa is clamped to her one arm and Rhiannon has a firm hold of the other. Trisha fights like a wildcat to free herself and Rhiannon’s swift glance in my direction barely hides her concern.

“Bitch,” hisses Trisha. “You’re gonna to pay for that you stinking little -

Melissa narrows her eyes at me and, leaning closer to Trisha, whispers something in her ear. Trisha stops struggling and smiles. The sneer holds such malice that I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Trisha, it would seem, really, really hates me.

“Watch your back, Cooper,” Trisha growls, “this ’aint over.”

“Aint it?” I reply, mimicking her nifty ‘go girl’ head movement and everything. My impersonation talents are not appreciated. Shaking herself free of Melissa and Rhiannon, Trisha turns and stalks away. Melissa runs after her like a good doggy and, with one final exchange of glances, Rhiannon follows.

Agatha materialises at my side. “She won’t forget that.”

I shrug. “So she’s got a problem with me. What’s new?”

Humphrey, glad that the busses have arrived and people are drifting away, walks over in a daze. He frowns at me – at least he tries to, but it’s not at all convincing with the corners of his mouth curling.

“I don’t know whether to be scared, relieved, outraged or just plain amazed,” he mutters.

I poke my tongue out and Humphrey roars with laughter.

“Imp! Come on,” he sniffs, wiping his eyes. “We’d better go.”

“I’ll catch you up,” I say with a smile. “I’ve left my bag in the art room.”

The smile still on my lips, I climb the steps into the main building. Luke Jenson, slouched against the doorway, watches me closely.

My breath catches at the look on his face. His eyes glitter and my stomach flips as they travel the length my body. I shiver.

Marks is Luke’s friend and I’ve just made him look like a monkey in a dress in front of half of the school. I don’t want to know what’s running through Luke’s mind right now.

His hooded eyes hold mine. Despite the stern talking to that I’m busy giving myself, I start to feel intimidated. Our relationship is just too weird.

Repeat after me, one hundred times, ’you are not having a relationship!’

Abruptly, his lips twist into a wry smile. He tips two fingers to his head in a mock salute to my playground victory and disappears into the depths of the hall.

Three minutes later, stood on the riverbank, I stare into the water and tick things off in my mind. After a while, I arrive at a very annoying conclusion.

No matter how much I don’t want him to be, Luke Jenson is the Hunter.

It all makes sense. He’s new to the area, male, physically fit (why does he have to be so physically fit?) and suddenly intensely interested in me. It all adds up.

It’s a bit of a slap in the face to realise that the only reason he’s interested in me is because he wants me six feet under. I feel a bit hard done by.

I bet Luke convinced Marks into having a go at Humphrey just to goad me into a display of power.

Thinking of how close I came to falling for it, and for him, makes my skin crawl.

Turning away from the glittering river, I head home, deflated but determined.

“I should have known those teeth were too perfect to be true.”