Since You've Been Gone Read Online Free

make me feel welcome at the school. If I were a better person, I’d invite her to sit down and have lunch with us.
    But I’m not.
    â€œOkay. So I guess we’ll see you later,” I say.
    Imogen’s face crumples. For a moment I’m afraid she might cry.
    â€œUm, sure. Okay.” Her tray shakes ever so slightly. “Have a nice lunch, then.” She turns and disappears into the chaos of the cafeteria.
    â€œBloody time she left!” Keisha says. “What a loser Maggots is! I can’t believe she’s in my homeroom this year.”
    â€œWell, we’ve got Precious Samuels and Jermaine Lewis in ours, so count yourself lucky,” Savitri replies. “At least your class isn’t full of psychos.”
    Keisha laughs through a forkful of fries. “That is pretty awful.”
    â€œWho’s Jermaine Lewis?” I ask.
    â€œHe wasn’t here this morning,” Savitri says. “Misses loads of school. Doesn’t really matter though ’cos he’s always in trouble when he is here. I don’t even know why he’s in academic with all of us. He’s as thick as a brick wall.”
    â€œAnd when he was eight,” Keisha whispers, lowering her head so that her chin nearly knocks against the table as she speaks, “He killed a bunch of kids, including his own brother.”
    Jermaine Lewis arrives after lunch. It seems he’s in my math class as well as homeroom. He strolls in fifteen minutes into the lesson without a word, his gaze traveling slowly around the room, searching for an empty place. No one raises a hand to offer him a seat.
    I try not to stare but can’t help myself. Some kids I knew back in Regent Park were involved in gangs and dealing; things that sometimes led to their own deaths or jail, but not many were involved in anything as serious as murder.
    Jermaine glances at me. Mild curiosity flashes across his face. I look away as he sits down near Savitri and me. Although he doesn’t seem to care about being late for class, our math teacher, Mr. O’Connor, clearly does.
    â€œHow kind of you to join us, Mr. Lewis,” he says, stopping the lesson in mid-sentence. “Forget to set your alarm clock?”
    Jermaine doesn’t answer; he just sits, silently gazing back.
    The class is suddenly focused in a way we haven’t been for any of part of the algebra lesson. We’re all waiting for Mr. O’Connor’s next move.
    â€œI asked you a question, Jermaine.”
    Nothing.
    Splotchy crimson patches appear on the teacher’s chest and neck. His chin wiggles a bit.
    â€œI’m waiting,” he says, folding his arms across his chest. This only serves to emphasize his man breasts and the wet pit stains on his shirt.
    Silence. Someone at the front of the room coughs loudly to disguise a giggle.
    â€œI’m waiting for you to drop this useless attitude and tell me why you’re so late for class. And on the first day of school.” Spittle flies from his lips. “Not the best way to start Year Ten, is it?”
    There should be a handbook for all teachers. One that tells them very clearly to never, ever confront a student in front of other students.
    â€œI had to do something for my mum,” Jermaine suddenly replies. His voice is level, but there is an edge to his words, a warning to Mr. O’Connor to back off.
    â€œWell, clearly I need to ring your mother and remind her of the importance of getting an education.” Mr. O’Connor says, rolling his eyes before turning back to the white board to continue scribbling down algebraic equations.
    Savitri leans over. “He’s such a rude twat.”
    I nod in agreement. It’s difficult to concentrate on the math lesson after that. I have trouble with math at the best of times as it never really makes sense to me, but now my attention keeps wandering back to Jermaine. He keeps his head down, focusing on whatever is in his