Half Bad by Sally Green Read Free Book Online

light back on and stand with my back to the door.
    “I’ll tell Gran about the fight tomorrow.”
    The lump under the bedclothes doesn’t respond.
    “You know fighting’s normal, don’t you? Most boys do it. It would be weird if I didn’t do it.”
    Still nothing.
    “I laughed because we’d beaten them. I was relieved. Let’s face it, I had you on my side; we were at a disadvantage.”
    He still doesn’t react.
    “It doesn’t mean I’m the Devil.”
    Finally he stirs and sits up to face me. “You know they’ll say you started it.”
    Of course I know. I know that even if I don’t fight, even if I avoid Annalise, even if I get on my knees and lick Niall’s and Connor’s boots, it will make no difference; they will do what they like and say what they like, and what they say will be believed. Arran still hasn’t accepted that there is no hope for me. He looks miserable, though.
    I sit on my bed and ask, “Do you get a lot of stick for being my half-brother?”
    “I’m your brother.” And he gives me that look of his, the most-gentle-person-in-the-world look.
    “Do you get much stick for being my brother, then?”
    “Not much.”
    He’s pretty hopeless at lying, but I love him more than ever for trying.
    “Anyway,” he says, “I’ve lived with Jessica all my life. Those jokers are amateurs.”
    * * *
    I wonder when Niall and Connor will come back at me. My main concern is that they will go for Arran, but they don’t. Maybe they realize that is stupider than just getting their revenge on me.
    After the fight I leave school at lunchtimes and hang out in the streets nearby, avoiding the O’Briens and everyone I can, but it’s a miserable existence and within two weeks I’ve had enough of hiding.
    I’m leaning against the wall in the same spot as for the first fight when Niall and Connor round the corner. I know they’re going to be more prepared this time, but I think that if I get Niall down first I have a decent chance against them.
    They run at me and I see that they
are
more prepared; Niall is holding a brick.
    The best form of defense is attack. I’ve heard that somewhere. So I run at them, shouting as loud as I can—bad stuff, swear words.
    Niall is surprised enough to hesitate and I push him away, swerve past him and land a poor punch on Connor, who is a pace behind. But somehow Niall reaches back and grabs my blazer. I pull away from him, but Connor gets his arms round me, pinning my left arm to my body. I try to punch him with my right, but it’s all over.
    Niall catches me on the side of the head with the brick and Connor is clinging on to me.
    Then I get rammed in my back, which must be with the brick again. But still I’m okay.
    Then
    T
    H
    U
    D
    It reverberates down my spine and stops me dead.
    I’ve been hammered into the tarmac like a nail.
    Connor’s hands push him away from me.
    He’s staring at me. He looks pale, mouth open. Afraid.
    Then he isn’t there.
    And slowly, slowly the tarmac rises up to my face and I have time to think that I’ve never seen tarmac do that before and wonder how . . .
    * * *
    My body is cold . . . and lying on something hard. My cheek is squashed into something hard. I taste blood.
    But I feel okay. Strange but okay.
    When I open my eyes everything is gray and fuzzy.
    I focus. Oh, right the playground . . . I remember . . .
    I don’t move. The brick is there, lying on the tarmac. It doesn’t move either. The brick looks like it has had a bad day as well.
    I close my eyes again.
    * * *
    I’m in the woods near home. I vaguely remember walking here. I’m lying on my back looking at the sky and aching everywhere. I don’t sit up but feel my face with my fingers, millimeter by millimeter, slowly daring to work my way to the bits I know are bad.
    I have a fat lip that is numb and a loose tooth, my tongue is sore for some reason, I have a bloody nose, my right eye is swollen, and a cut above my left ear is oozing blood and a sort