First lesson was P.E. Admittedly I am not the most athletic person. For just this very reason I knew I would get a beating from the sporty people.  Those with the same amount of brain cells as a cucumber. At least I could recover over break and could have my breakfast, consisting of a bottle of coke and a cigarette. Break was over and I forced myself to go to second lesson. There was a new teacher in the maths department. Mr Clark. He looked scrawny and weak. This morning he was finding it hard to control the class.

Mr. Clark with a ghostly white, fragile looking creature whose only attempt at authority seemed to be his perfectly fitted and pressed black suit. He seemed the successful type. Academically. But that wouldn't help him here. Felt sorry for the poor sod. Pupils at this school were lions. If they smelt even a smidgen of fear, they were going in for the kill. And they had. Seeking refuge behind his desk, Mr. Clark seemed to shrink into the distance until he was completely minute. It was easy to tell he wouldn't last a week here.  Third lesson was science, the fire alarm went off in an experiment and so the lesson was cut short. Thank God.

Lunch time was here and I was walking about, bored out of my mind with nothing to do in my daily hell hole.  I decided to head for the hockey field, where I often sat to avoid a beating, with a ciggie reflecting on stuff. I went for my packet and realised I’d ran out this morning. Damn.

Then I saw Lucy Marshall- one of the school cheerleaders, heading across the field. She’s the worst of the lot, thinks she’s superior to the rest of ‘em. No doubt she wants to be head cheerleader. Everyone knows it and everyone knows she would do anything to make it happen. She had her chance last year but was voted out by the rest of the squad and replaced with Steph Owen. She really was asking for it though. She’s a ‘lil suck up to Steph, who’s none the wiser to the scheming, manipulative, Lucy. Who wants what she can’t have- I’ve even seen her eyeing Steph’s boyfriend, Matt Davison. I think that there’s something going on between them- I mean things, little things, just don’t add up.  And it doesn’t seem to be romantic- at least not to Lucy; she looks at him like something on the bottom of her shoe. But Matt, who frankly, can only be described as a bonehead, idolises her.  I think she’s up to yet another conniving scheme, but I don’t know what. Yet.

Talk of the devil, Lucy was heading in my direction, looking rather flustered. I have to admit I was hoping to catch a glimpse of Steph. Cheerleaders tend to walk in packs - it's easier to bring prey down in larger numbers – so I was surprised to see Lucy alone. She tends to stick to Steph like a parasite. Lucy and the majority of the cheerleaders are incredibly superficial and only like the popular guys. I may have a soft spot for Steph but she’s different. She’s kind, thoughtful and oh yeah, stunning. Every time I see her she looks so fresh- almost as if she'd just stepped out of a beauty salon. I on the other hand, always look like I have consumed an entire bottle of vodka and slept in a skip. Lucy approached me, looking devastated - she probably just found out someone is wearing the exact same shoes as her. Oh no, what is the world to do?

''Frankie, I need your help. Something terrible has happened.'' She said, her mouth trembling.
Instead of my immediate reaction of telling her to bugger off as I usually do, I hear myself say “What's the matter, is it serious?''
'' Of course it's bloody serious otherwise I wouldn't be talking to you!'' She blurted
Ouch that hurt.
She bit her lip, taken aback by her own language. "I-I'm sorry it-it's just tha-''
I cut her off, '' its fine I'm used to it. What do you want?'' I glared at her coldly. God I hate cheerleaders.
''It's Steph.'' I couldn't help but sit straight up. ''She's missing, has been for a while.'' I sat there in disbelief.  She rattled on for another 10 minutes but the shock I was in drowned her out. Probably just as well. At that moment I knew I was the one who had to find her. Anyone one who tried to stop me would be a dead man.

I walked to the pit- where all the wasters hang out. They know everything about everyone. The pit is located behind the rubbish infested football pitch .And there they were. Swarms of them.  Obscured by a low layer of pungent grey smoke. I approached cautiously; I knew them to be surprisingly swift and violent when necessary, although doped up. I had to find GL, the man with all the answers. GL standing for group leader- not the most creative of names but that was expected considering the circumstances. A slight problem, I don’t actually know GL or what he looks like. In fact I don’t even know if he really exists. I gave up trying to guess which druggie was him and blurted out. "GL where you hiding?" And of course with my luck, it’s the biggest bloody bloke there and to top it off I think I just really pissed him off. Absolutely fantastic.

In a series of smoke fuelled grunts he said "What do you want? And believe me if it’s not good, you’re in trouble" or words to that effect.
Trying to act cool and completely unfazed by his threats "I-I er, n-need some erm information" Smooth Frankie. Real smooth.
Not surprisingly he laughed at me. "Oh yeah? What about?" he said grinning from ear to ear in an almost sinister way.
So much for playing it cool. "Steph Owen- she’s missing" I said hesitantly.
His grin vanished and I caught a flicker of what seemed to be panic flash across his eyes before he hastily answered "Never heard of her".
I retorted back with "Yes you bloody have! You know everything about everyone! You’re a liar and a coward!" That was stupid. Even for me. Now he was truly and utterly pissed off. Great.
He came close to my face. His warm dope filled breath, a biological weapon. It took every fibre of my body not to gag in his face from the stench. In fact it was a bloody miracle I didn’t pass out. But I wasn’t going to give him any kind of satisfaction by showing weakness. I was doing this for Steph. 

The exact words he uttered should never be repeated by anybody- ever. But the gist suggested I kindly leave his premises.  Immediately. If I valued the use of limbs and the worse part, if I was thinking of having children in the future.

I didn’t. So of course this annoyed him even more. I wanted answers that he obviously had. But I was getting nowhere and GL’s fists were tightly clenched. Sod it. He’s sure as hell not gonna tell me anything and no doubt he’s going to punch my bloody lights out. So why not get a few punches in first? Turns out there are a lot of things wrong with my logic. As I keep finding out. Like I said these wasters can handle themselves well, considering the amount of drugs they’ve consumed. And they most certainly do NOT take too kindly to someone attempting (poorly) to beat up their leader. To be continued...

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