Rain In My Heart Read Free Page B

through the hills to get here. His hair hung in wide, soggyclumps.  It needed a brush more than mine.  His eyes were something though.  I could n’ t stop looking at them.             
    ‘I’ m here to help paint ,’ he said. 
                  ‘ Oh ,’ said Miss Nevis .‘ Well, okay then.  Thank you,Ryan.  The more the merrier, I guess.  But do n’ t get mud everywhere . ’
                  ‘ I wo n’ t ,’ he said, without looking up. 
    As he took of his shoes, he did n’ t once acknowledge the rest of us.  It got me thinking.  Did he really have nothing better to do on a rainy Saturday afternoon?  There was such a shyness in his manner, an awkwardness, I started to feel sorry for him.  But when I glanced at Gemma and Leon and Greg and I could tell they were thinking something different: 
    Weirdo.  Intruder.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter Three
     
    We watched from the rain-splattered window as Miss Nevis left the building, bound for the retail park at the other end of town.  Curtis pressed his face to the glass.
    ‘ Mind the bodywork !’ he yelled, as she squeezed alongside his car.  ‘ And do n’ t forget to bring back snacks!  Pot noodles, extra hot!  Man, I’ m starving ! ’
    The rain was too fierce for Miss Nevis to hear him.  By the time she was seated, she was soaked.  I felt bad for her.  Sh e’ d gone out of her way to organise this mural - sh e’ d given up her free time to o– and all Curtis wanted to do was eat. 
                  ‘ Is n’ t Miss Nevis supposed to be the adult in charge ?’ he said, as her car pulled away.  ‘ What if we all go crazy and start smashing everything ? ’
                  ‘ Yo u’ re the only one at risk of doing that ,’ said Greg.  ‘ The rest of us can manage fine without a baby-sitter . ’
                               
    With Miss Nevis gone, the atmosphere changed. Gemma and Greg disappeared into the store cupboard.  Leon and I leant against a radiator and made small talk.  Curtis demonstrated juggling tricks, using two sponges and a jam jar.  And Ryan, the new boy, kept himself to himself.  From the corner of my eye, I could see him crouching at the back of the room, doing something - but I couldn't tell what. 
    ‘ Seriously ,’ said Curtis, leaning towards Leon and I.  ‘ What kind of weirdo freely gives up their weekend to paint a poxy mural on a school wall?  I t’ s different for us because w e’ ve been made to come here, but h e’ s here of his own accord.  Wha t’ s that about ? ’
    I shrugged.
    ‘ Has anyone spoken to him to find out ?’ I said.
    ‘ No one speaks to him ,’ said Leon.  ‘ H e’ s a loner.  I remember him from my Geography field trip last year.  Does n’ t talk to anyone.  Super-brain.  But proper weird . ’
    ‘ Le t’ s get him over ,’ said Curtis, a gleam in his eye.
    They started to call ,‘ Oi, Ryan!  Come here!  Come talk to us ! ’
    Ryan looked up.
    ‘I’ m busy ,’ he muttered.  ‘ And for your information, my name is Byron . ’
    ‘ Byron ?’ said Leon .‘ I thought it was - ’
    ‘ I changed it ,’ snapped Byron - or Ryan - or whatever.
    ‘ Easy now ,’ said Curtis.  ‘ No need to get snarky.  Only being friendly . ’
    Friendly, but there was cruelty in there, too.  Why are boys like that?  Always competing, trying to outrank each other.  Curtis did n’ t want to be friends with Byron.  He just wanted to toy with him.  Byron, however, paid no attention and carried on with what he was doing.  Curious, I edged around the table so I could get a better view.  I saw that he was counting pencils, lining them up in order of colour and size.  H e’ d finally taken his wet blazer off.  Beneath it, he was wearing a white shirt and a knitted tank top, which made him look