Alexander Jefry Sandhu (Fry)

fry_sandhu @ 2019-09-24T19:44:00

2019-09-24T20:16:44Z

One thing Fry had been certain of, when starting secondary school, was that it wouldn't be easy. He was glad of it; tired of the stale curriculum of primary school and ready for a new challenge.

Even the social side he was not too worried about, since he would be starting Oaking with a few people he already knew, even if each came with a downside. There was Joram, who he got on well with but due to surname differences would not be in his class. There was George, who would be in his class, but he didn't like. And there was Patrick, who would also be in his class, but was not eligible for friendship on account of being Fry's arch-nemesis. Finally there was Maurice, who Fry had only met at entrance tests, was in his class and Fry actually liked, but came with his own issues.

Because they were seated alphabetically, Fry had initially been seated in the front row next to Sunita Sandhu, who had already been at Oaking for a year because she was in the gifted and talented program, with whom Fry shared some but not all of his classes. After making polite amused observations about having the same surname, Sunita asked him what he had been doing over the summer.

"Oh, we went to India." Fry said. She seemed interested and asked where they had been, so he told her. "We were there because my grandma died and then we took the sights in after."

"I'm so sorry." Sunita said.

"Don't be, she was a horrible old woman." Fry said.

Sunita looked taken aback, so he explained.

"She cut my dad off and sided with my abusive grandfather. She never had a nice word to say about any of us. We weren't even invited to the funeral, the only reason we traveled there was to make sure my aunt Anita was being looked after because she's now an orphan and she's only thirteen. And she is and she didn't want Dad involved so we went travelling. What did you do over the summer?"

"We went to India." Sunita said flatly. "For my great aunt's funeral. She was a wonderful woman, she went through so much pain."

Fry marveled at the coincidence and then remembered to offer similar condolances. Sunita spent all break on the phone to her mother, didn't speak to him for the rest of the morning, and then approached Miss Cartwright and asked to be moved, which Fry found incredibly odd. He asked Miss Cartwright about it, but she told him not to worry, and asked him if he had anyone in particular he would like to sit with.

Maurice was only too glad to move to the front row. He said the back row was too distracting and one of the lights was making a funny noise. Also, with the last name Russell, he had been stuck next to George, and she was more than glad to have Sunita instead because she found Maurice at least as annoying as Fry, if not more.

Fry liked Maurice. The only problem was that Maurice was at least as aspergic as Fry was (though officially on a two year waiting list for a diagnosis), which meant that he was no help whatsoever with the complexities of secondary school, and the two of them would end up trooping off together to find other sources of help.

Miss Cartwright was very helpful, and Fry liked her right away. She taught art, which wasn't his usual subject, but he decided that might now give it more of a go. Mrs Carter, the SENCO, gave him a useful card called a gold pass which allowed them both to use low traffic doors and skip the lunch queue to avoid crowd issues. She wasn't going to see him regularly like Mr Irons did, but said that he could come and arrange a chat if he needed, so she was also quite helpful.

Lenny, Fry's 'School Brother', took Maurice under his wing also and told them all the things the teachers didn't. And finally there was Keith Teeth (AKA Ginger) also from the gifted and talented program, who had kept his Form Captain role for another term; he helped them find some of the classes, including Advanced Maths.

The Advanced Maths teacher, Mr "Scary" Stamford, was unfortunately the one teacher Fry really didn't like. It wasn't the classes themselves; he was thrilled when Mr Stamford told him that they would start GCSE level material (though they could choose to wait to take the actual exam until later on if they wanted). But Mr Stamford was loud-voiced, generally irritable and difficult to impress. After years of teaching universally gifted mathematicians, he was unmoved by brilliance, and it was a mark of highest honour if he wrote 'good' on your work.

"What's Oaking like? Do you like it?" Coral asked Fry one evening, when Fry was working on Scary Stamford's long and difficult maths homework.

"Yes. It's very hard, but in a good way." Fry said.

"Do you think I could do it?" Coral asked.

Fry looked at her.

"You might manage the ordinary classes. With the right glasses on."

"Can I borrow your old past papers?" Coral asked.

"Knock yourself out." Fry said.

--------------------

Because Fry's new school started back a week earlier than Coral's, she had time for a bit of practice before starting in her new class. It was a real fresh start - a new teacher to the school, an unknown entity.

Before the start of school, Coral went in a little early and went up to the new teacher at her desk. She looked quite stern, which didn't worry her; having just spent a year in Miss Havisham's class, Coral was used to stern people.

"Hi... sorry, what's your name?" Coral asked.

"Mrs Stamford." the teacher looked at her over her glasses. "And you are?"

"Coral Sandhu. It's nice to meet you. Do you know a Mr Stamford who teaches at Oaking?"

"Yes, he's my husband." Mrs Stamford said. Coral was glad she hadn't called him Scary Stamford.

"I want to take the Oaking gifted and talented program exam this year. I might not pass because I'm dyslexic, but I think it would be a good practice for taking the general exam next year." Coral said.

Mrs Stamford nodded. If she was pleased, it was hard to tell.

"Very well. We'll see if any more of your class are doing it and arrange some practices. You understand that there are eight applicants to every place?"

"Yes, my brother just started Year 7, he's clever but they didn't feel he would be good in the program because his autism means he's not as good at English as he is at maths. He doesn't think I can do it, so I haven't told him I'm trying out for it."

At that moment, the bell rang, and everyone else trooped in. Coral waved Mae over, so that they could sit together, and got her book bag out ready to start the day.

She opened the bag.

She searched her bag.

Her dyslexia glasses were missing. She sat in silent panic as Mrs Stamford handed out the first assignments of the day.

"Why are you squinting like that?" Mrs Stamford asked her, after five minutes.

"My dyslexia glasses aren't in my book bag."

"Well, that's not a very good start to the year, is it?" Mrs Stamford declared, launching into a lecture to the whole class on being responsible and prepared. Coral bit her lip and tried not to cry. The glasses were there last night, she knew they were.

At break time, she went to find Gil, who was playing some sort of Mummy and Daddy game with Esme-Rose, except that at least one of them was a dog.

"Gil, did you take my green glasses to play with?" she asked.

"Nopie." Gil chirruped.

"Promise? The other day you wanted to play Wizard of Oz with them."

Gil shook his head solumnly.

"We didn't see the wizard." Esme-Rose said. "We twavelled to Bananaia instead."

Coral sighed. That left one suspect.

----------------------

Brooke was enjoying her first day of her new school, mostly because there had not so far been any lessons. She was seated in a back row desk, next to her friend Nat from hockey, with her feet on the desk, telling a group of interested people about her pet spider, Killer.

Through the crowd, Smiggle Girl appeared. Her bag was Smiggle. Her pencil case was Smiggle. She wore designer shoes and a disgruntled expression.

"Hi Olivia." Nat said, with the innocent expression of someone who has just moved themselves and their friend into someone else's usual spot.

"You're in my seat." Olivia said, glaring at Brooke.

"Why, did you piss on it to mark your territory?" Brooke asked.

There was a roar of laughter from the surrounding kids. Olivia shoved Brooke on the shoulder, which was completely ineffective because Brooke was significantly bigger than her.

"Lay off her Livvy, it's her first day." Nat said.

Brooke took her feet off the desk and assumed a very sweet and innocent expression. "Yeah, I'm off limits for at least twelve hours."

Olivia threw a general tantrum, making various references to Brooke's general appearance, only stopping when their class teacher entered the room.

"Olivia! That's no way to treat a new student, come and sit at the front."

That was the first thing that Brooke liked about Mr Winston.

The first morning he took her aside for some one to one time at the front desk, and asked her how she got on with classwork.

"Oh, I'm very severely dyslexic." Brooke said.

"You are? Your parents didn't mention it." Mr Winston said.

"I can hardly read at all. I have these glasses." Brooke produced Coral's green dyslexia glasses as evidence. "They kicked me out of private school because I'm too stupid."

She held her breath, hoping that he hadn't received a report from Cherry Tree to disprove this incredible lie. But he only frowned slightly.

"You're not stupid, Brooke." Mr Winston said. "Dyslexia is nothing to be ashamed of. I'll make sure you get to meet our SENCO, okay? We can work through this together. I'm sure you'll be very happy here."

"Me too, Mr Winston."

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fry_sandhu @ 2019-01-31T16:37:00

2019-01-31T20:58:37Z

Fry had half expected that starting secondary school would involve just being thrown in at the deep end on the first day, and was pleasantly surprised to be proven wrong. Even though he wasn't starting until September, the school started organising transition days right away.

Lenny, his 'School Brother', became a friend very quickly, even though the friendship mostly involved playing a lot of Fortnite and not a lot of talking about school. He hadn't met Lenny in person yet, though he had invited the boy over when he found out Lenny was still at school at Christmas. Lenny had declined the invitation, saying he had a whole day of gaming planned, but thanked Fry all the same.

Making friends with Lenny through a screen suited Fry just fine for now. He got the feeling Lenny felt the same way.

"I've got a day with the gits tomorrow." He told Lenny one evening, as they played Minecraft. The students referred to the Gifted and Talented program kids as the 'gits', and kids like Fry who would spend some time with the program were 'half-gits'. Lenny was a half-git too, but he was several years older.

Lenny didn't wish him good luck, because neither of them thought luck would have anything to do with it.

"Look for the R to Zs." he said.

"R to Zs?"

"Kids with surnames from R to Z. There's twenty five gits doing their Year 6 at school this year. When the rest of you start in Year 7, they divide the gits up and put six or seven in each class. Your last name is Sandhu so you'll be in Upper Third R, or UIIIR. The numbering system is a little weird round here."

"So I definitely won't be in Joram's class." Fry said. "Because his last name is Al-Bayati."

"Nope, he'll definitely be in UIIIA."

"Is the cutoff definitely R? George's last name is Runt."

"Not always, but it is this year, I've checked." Lenny said. "So George will be in your class. Is that good?"

"Don't know." Fry said. "I mean, I don't like her, but at least I know her."

"Eh, most people don't stick with their primary school mates anyway." Lenny said. "I had to come in for some practice days too before I started, it's a good way to get to know a few people. They're also looking to see whether they should put you in any more of the advanced classes."

"What other advanced classes could I be in?" Fry asked. "I mean, which ones do the gits do separately from the rest of us apart from maths?"

"English, science, ICT, sometimes the foreign languages but it depends how many they've got. If there's only a few people who are really advanced at a language they'll usually try and put you in one of the older classes instead. Apparently the timetable is a nightmare."

***

The next morning, Fry met Lenny at the school gate, in person for the first time. Lenny was very tall, even for fifteen, and grinned at Fry and Dad.

"Hi! I'll show you where you need to go." he said. "Hello Dr Sandhu, I can take Fry from here."

Dad gave them both a nod, and Fry followed Lenny, who was chattering excitedly about the Large Hadron Collider. As they made their way down a corridor which was now starting to look familiar, a formidable-looking teacher stopped them.

"Leonard Fortescue! Shirt untucked! Shoes unpolished! And hair a mess!"

Lenny frantically tucked his shirt in.

"See to it that you are presentable by your first class." the teacher said severely, striding on down the corridor.

"Who was that?" Fry whispered.

"Mr Stamford. He's the deputy head. Don't worry, the rest of the teachers are pretty cool, he's just the strict one." Lenny said, licking his hand and attempting to flatten down his hair. "He's been known to send students to the needlework room to iron their shirt."

"What does he teach?" Fry asked.

"Maths."

Fry relaxed. He was good at maths, so Mr Stamford would probably not be a problem.

"Fry!"

Fry looked around and saw two more boys his age coming down the corridor towards him, both of whom he recognised. One was Patrick Witherspoon, his arch nemesis. The other was Maurice, a very nervous boy he had met when they previously came for an educational needs assessment. Patrick looked triumphant to be there. Maurice looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him up and hide him until it was all over. After a brief introduction to Lenny, Lenny took the three of them out of the main building to a small side building with a little playground attached to it. Fry was surprised to see that it had swings.

"This is the yard." Lenny said. "It's meant to be for Year 6s and 7s, but they turn a blind eye to the rest of us going on the swings so long as we're not knobbing around." He went to a side door and tapped a code in. "And this is the Year 6 class, Lower Third A."

The noise was so loud when they entered the classroom that Fry clapped his hands over his ears, and Maurice flinched. However, almost immediately the kids quietened down; for a split second, they mistook tall Lenny for a teacher.

"Hey, these are new kids for next year." Lenny said. "Fry Sandhu, Maurice Russell and... I forgot his name."

"Patrick Witherspoon." Patrick said, slightly indignantly.

"And him. Who's your form captain?"

A red-haired boy puts his hand up.

"Ah, there you go." Lenny said, nodding to the three visitors. "That's Keith Teeth, he'll look after you. See you later!"

Keith Teeth grimaced, and came over.

"Hi. First things first, call me Ginger." he said. "Let's see if we can find the other R to Zs, and I'll introduce you, and then you can get to know the others later." Ginger took them around the classroom, picking out the kids with the appropriate surnames.

"That's Cassie Zawadzki." he pointed out the window to a girl arriving on a skateboard. "She's cool. Plays footie for Farmede Rovers. And the really tall guy coming out of the Boarders' Block is Tyson Ross."

"Is he really only our age? He's huge." Patrick tactfully observed.

"Really truly. His mum and dad are both in the armed forces, so he boards." Ginger said. "He doesn't say a lot, I think he has a lot on his mind."

He turned away from the window and came to a boy frantically scribbling down some homework.

"This is my best mate and co-founder of the 'Our Parents Gave Us Stupid Names' club, Branston Small, affectionately known as 'Pickle'."

Pickle raised a hand in greeting and continued scribbling with the other.

"Pickle has an unusual way of arranging his things." Ginger continued. "Do not move his things. He will not be able to find them."

"That's code for 'Pickle is the untidiest person you will ever meet'." Cassie chipped in, coming into the classroom.

"I'm going to defend myself from this onslaught of lies and slander right after I finish this geography which is due in in four minutes." Pickle said.

"Yeah, we'll come back to Pickle later." Ginger looked around for the next person on his list, and then pointed to a very neat, pretty Indian girl reading in the far corner.

"That's Sunita Sandhu. Oh hey, she's got the same last name as you." Ginger said to Fry. "Any relation?"

Fry looked over at the girl. "Not that I know of. We're not really in touch with my dad's family. But Sandhu is a really common Indian surname so probably not."

"Anyway, that's Sunita. She's very serious, but very sweet. Who's left? Oh yes." Ginger went over to a small boy and tapped him on the shoulder. He then started to sign as he spoke again.

"This is Oliver Warren. He's really good on the drums. He's also deaf, but he can lipread if you don't sign so please look at him when you talk to him."

"Hi." Oliver said, giving them a wave.

"I sign." Fry said, with the appropriate sign.

"Awesome." Oliver said. "You can help me teach the others."

"And last but not least, Bronwen." Ginger pointed to a girl just coming into the room. "Who is trying to set a record for the most school clubs you can be a member of at the same time."

"How many is that?" Patrick asked.

"At the moment, eight." Bronwen said. "But only because netball club trains three times a week. If Mum would let me get the bus I could get it up to ten by coming to a couple of before school clubs."

"Most people don't join as many as that, but the school encourages you to join at least one that isn't academic." Ginger said. "So it's worth checking out the list and seeing what you like. You can't join the 'Our Parents Gave Us Stupid Names Club' though, because none of you have stupid names."

"So who's the smartest?" Patrick blurted out.

Ginger blinked at him, as though confused. Pickle launched himself forward and slapped his completed Geography homework book on the front desk.

"Twenty eight seconds to spare!" Pickle declared.

"Mr Pickle." Ginger said. "Are there any smart people here?"

"Smart people?" Pickle said, seriously. "Oh no, I don't think we have any of those."

"None whatsoever, last I checked." Ginger said.

"Oh bum, did we have Geography homework?" Bronwen asked, looking at the pile of books on the desk and then turning her satchel upside down to look for her book.

Ginger patted Patrick gently on the shoulder. "In answer to your question, I have no idea. We don't really worry about that here. You don't need to either."

Fry managed not to laugh at Patrick's face.

***

He was relieved to find that the Year 6 teacher was not anything like as terrifying as Mr Stamford. At break time, Ginger took the three of them to the art block, to meet Miss Cartwright, who would be their class teacher in September. Miss Cartwright was young and jolly, and fun, and Fry liked her right away. She spoke to each of them alone in her office for a few minutes.

"You'll get to meet Mrs Carter, our SENCO, nearer the time when you start." She said to Fry. "And I'll make sure you get a gold pass."

"What's a gold pass?" Fry asked.

"It's a key card. We have a couple of doors that we reserve for people who need more space." Miss Cartwright explained. "You'll be able to get into the canteen and the assembly hall via the side doors rather than having to go in with a big crowd. You can skip the lunch queue with it too, just show the prefect on lunch duty. It tucks in the back of your student ID badge out of sight when you don't need it."

"Oh, that would be useful, thanks." Fry said.

"No problem. We'll try and make this as smooth as possible, okay?"

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fry_sandhu @ 2018-12-18T22:02:00

2018-12-18T23:34:59Z

"Open it." Fry urged George, who was clutching an envelope.

"I can't." George said.

"Want me to?" Fry asked.

"Okay fine, I can." George ripped open the envelope. Her face frowned.

"Dear Miss Runt, we are pleased to tell you that you qualify for a bursary of up to 70% of your fees, should you still wish to study at Oaking School."

"Well that's great!" Fry said. "That's what you needed, wasn't it?"

"Yes." George folded the letter. "I don't know whether I should take it though, Holby West offered me a scholarship, so they obviously want me more."

"Are you still mad that I beat you in the Oaking exam?" Fry asked. "Come on George, don't be stubborn, come with us."

"You don't even like me." George snorted in amusement. "Why do you want me to come with you?"

"Because then there'll be one person in my class that I know that isn't my mortal enemy." Fry said. "Joram won't be in my class because it's alphabetical and his last name starts with an A and mine with an S. And because I know you really wanted to go, and I had the same dream, so I understand it."

George laughed. "Well, if you put it that way. I'll think about it and ask Mum and Dad. No promises though." She peered at Fry for a moment, then added. "Are you worried about going on your own? It's not like you to be worried about that."

"Yes." Fry said.

"How come?" George asked.

Fry paused.

"Because I'm annoying. And the more people wind me up the more annoying I get because I get anxious. And I don't understand people. And because the older I get, the less I can get away with it for being endearing. I realised someone really, really hates me recently. And it wasn't even one of the people on my mortal enemies list. I... I thought we were friends. I was trying really hard, too."

George looked at him.

"Doesn't your Dad normally help you with that sort of stuff?"

"I didn't tell him." Fry said. "I just told him I'd done my best and I didn't want to hang out with them any more and he said that was fine."

"Fry, I know we've not been friends much, but let me give you some advice."

"What's that?"

"Real friends don't make you do all the trying." George said. "Some people don't like you. Some people don't like me. Nobody likes everyone. Don't try and force a friendship when it's making both of you miserable. Just make friends with people when it makes you both happy, and be polite with everyone else."

Fry listened, and nodded.

"That's good advice. Thanks."

"Honestly, Fry?" George said. "You're worried for a good reason. You should probably learn to keep your head down."

"My head down?"

"It means don't draw too much attention to yourself."

***

Two weeks passed. It was noted by a few people that Fry was quiet, but in the hustle and bustle of Christmas preparations, perhaps not much said about it.

In fact, Fry would have thought that nobody had noticed, if the phone hadn't rung one evening and Mum come into his room.

"Fry, someone wants to speak to you."

"On the landline?" Fry looked around. "Are they old?"

"They didn't have your mobile. They want to facetime with you."

Before Fry could ask who it was, Mum handed him her iPad and a face popped up on the screen; a boy of about fifteen, with an overexcited grin and fluffy blonde hair.

"HI!" the boy said. "You must be Fry. I'm Lenny, I'm going to be your School Brother."

"My what?" Fry asked, putting the screen down.

"School Brother. It's like a mentor." Lenny said, opening a packet of crisps, which exploded and most of them fell on the floor. "You can ask me things about school, and talk to me about stuff you're worried about, and I can give you tips on how to settle in and what the teachers are like and everything. If you want, that is. They wanted me to email you first but I was too excited."

"You were?" Fry tried to take all that in.

"Yeah, they never let me have a School Brother before, well not a little one, I had a big one, but he left now because he was quite a lot older. I asked last year but they didn't let me, I think they thought I was a bad influence, but they asked me specially this year because Dr Haycroft thought you and I might get on." Lenny scooped up more crisps off the floor, debating whether to eat them, and then proceeded to blow the fluff off them one by one. "Want to see my room?"

Before Fry could answer, Lenny had picked up his tablet and was showing him round what seemed to be a small plain room with two beds.

"That was Jack's bed, but they moved him, because I don't sleep very well and I was keeping him up." Lenny said. "So now I get the room to myself."

"Is Jack your brother?" Fry asked. Now he wanted crisps. But not floor crisps.

"Oh, no, I'm a boarder." Lenny said. "And this is my poster of the Large Hadron Collider. Did you know the Large Hadron Collider has a circumference of twenty seven miles and is situated one hundred and seventy five metres below the French-Swiss border?"

"What's the Large Hadron Collider?" Fry asked.

Lenny launched into a detailed explanation of what the Large Hadron Collider was, including several diagrams, which Fry did not entirely understand. However, something about Lenny made him feel slightly more at ease with himself and the world in general, and so he let Lenny talk about it for ten minutes without interruption.

"Hey Lenny, can I ask you something?" he said eventually, when Lenny had exhausted the diagrams he had to hand.

"Oh, yes, that's what I'm here for." Lenny said.

"What do you do when someone doesn't like you?" Fry asked. "And it's all your fault or part your fault and part their fault? Do people at school get mad at you a lot?"

Lenny considered this, opening a packet of popcorn, which also exploded onto the floor in his excitement.

"The teachers don't get mad, apart from Mr Stamford, he's the deputy head and he's reeeeeally strict. Like if he sees you with a crumpled shirt he sends you to the needlework room to iron it in break."

"What about the students?" Fry made a note about the ironing.

"Well, sometimes. I'm pretty sure getting mad at each other is pretty standard for a teenager." Lenny ate a handful of popcorn. "I'd say if someone doesn't like you, just keep a low profile. But there's quite a lot of people who find it hard to make friends, especially the Gits. And they do loads of getting to know you things in the first term. So I'm sure you'll be okay."

"Gits?"

"Gifted and Talented Program kids." Lenny said. "You're not allowed to pick on anyone for being in a different stream, but everyone calls them the Gits, not because it's an insult, they do it because it's short for Gifted and Talented."

"I'm with the Gifted and Talented Program just for maths." Fry said.

"That makes you a half-git." Lenny said. "What house are you in?"

"I don't know yet." Fry said.

"I'm gonna ask Dr Haycroft if you can go in Orwell, like me, I bet she'd say yes, she thinks I'm fascinating." Lenny said, sweeping the tablet up so suddenly that Fry felt slightly dizzy. "Anyway, don't worry Fry, you haven't even started yet and I'm pretty sure we're going to be friends, so you made one friend already."

Fry felt slightly heartened by this. Lenny charged downstairs to the Boarders Common Room.

"These are the other boarders. Everyone say hi to Fry, he's my School Brother."

The other students briefly glanced up from their electronic devices in order to wave to Fry and grunt a teenage welcome.

"Watch out, Fry, he's a bad influence." one of the kids joked.

"I'm not, I'm on my BEST BEHAVIOUR." Lenny said.

"Did he tell you about the Large Hadron Collider yet?" the other kid asked.

"Yes, it was fascinating." Fry said. "I'm going to look up some more videos on youtube right after we finish."

"Okay I take it back." the kid said. "You guys sound perfect for each other."

"Can I talk to you again before September?" Fry asked, when Lenny was taking his tablet back upstairs. "I didn't get the chance to pre-prepare any questions."

"Sure." Lenny said. "Just email me or message me or something. I..." he looked around the room. "I don't go out much. Do you play Fortnite?"

"Yes, sometimes. I like Minecraft better though." Fry said.

"Cool! See you later. And Fry, don't worry."

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fry_sandhu @ 2018-12-16T16:16:00

2018-12-16T16:51:11Z

Dad was putting the cot up. Since there wasn't supposed to be another baby after Gil, he'd had to go out and buy another one, which meant a day of him faffing around with the instructions before, invariably, putting part A into hole B and then wondering why the whole thing fell over.

He was just starting to get flatpack rage when Fry came to the doorway.

"If I took someone's picture and drew on it without asking, would that be wrong?" Fry asked.

Dad looked up. "Yes, why?"

"I knew it." Fry said. "Michael took my first picture so I let him have it. He then tried to take my new picture so I held it up and tried to get him to ask rather than snatch, because Wilford didn't bother doing anything about it. Wilford then acted like I was wrong. But I wasn't wrong, was I? I get that he's only little and doesn't know better, but how will he learn better if nobody tells him? How will he learn to talk if nobody tries to communicate with him?"

Dad paused.

"Okay. You do have to share so you were right to give him the first page. You don't have to let him snatch something important, but it doesn't sound like this was a special drawing, so trying to make him ask was unfair. And you have to mind your own business when it comes to other people's parenting."

"But..."

"No buts, Fry. You're a big boy now, sometimes you have to let these things go. Besides, it's good that Michael actually tried to play with you, that's real progress."

Fry scowled.

"I know what it's like to be the kid who doesn't know the rules and upsets people and ends up with no friends." He said. "Why can't I help?"

"Because Wilford has made it very clear, as Coral pointed out, that they do not want our help or advice." Dad said, looking back at the cot.

"So I should let them do the wrong thing?"

"You don't know that it's the wrong thing. And if it is, sometimes you have to." Dad said. "Fry, you're going to go to secondary school soon. Lots of kids there will do what you believe is the wrong thing and there will be nothing you can do to stop that. You will have to let it go sometimes, especially when it's something small, like paper, and not go telling tales."

Fry's scowl turned into a glare.

"I don't like this amendment of the rules." he said.

"Hey. It's not easy." Dad said, suddenly more gentle. "How did you feel when Michael drew on your picture? You used to draw on the communal drawing wall at school, so you understand what a shared drawing project is."

Fry hesitated, trying to find an adjective.

"He was too close. He kept touching my hand. He was in my space. I nearly had a meltdown."

"So how could you and Michael draw together without either of you getting upset?" Dad asked.

After a moment, Fry had a brainwave.

"We could have bigger paper?"

"Right. Wilford didn't tell you off either, and you weren't innocent in this argument because most kids your age would be expected to be more lenient on a toddler. I understand why you got upset. And I'm proud that you didn't have a meltdown. But now you need to go and make this right."

"Why?" Fry asked. "I mean, I will, but why is it my responsibility?"

"Because the test of good behaviour is to behave well when other people don't." Guppy said. "And you want to be well-behaved, don't you?"

Fry turned to go, then looked back through the doorway.

"Dad?"

"Yes Fry?"

"You're doing that wrong. I'll come and fix it for you after."

"Thank you Fry."

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"You know how Wilford isn't supposed to know how to make friends? Well I saw him on TV, and he has loads of friends."

"That might just be TV."

"Well I'm going to do some research."

"You do that." Guppy said. "But no dossiers like Autor used to do, people find it creepy. And no more giving Wilford parenting advice."

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2018-11-07T21:05:00

2018-11-07T22:38:34Z

There are two letters on the mat first thing in the morning. Fry gets to them before anyone else, scoops them up, and puts them in the pocket of his school trousers. He goes through to the kitchen to set the table for breakfast.

"I don't mind swapping with the baby." Coral is telling Mum. "You can't even get the changing table in that tiny study."

"I'm not sharing the attic with a noisy baby." Fry objects.

"How about I go in the study, Gil goes in the attic next door to you, and the baby goes in Gil's room?" Coral asks. "Gil's not noisy at all."

"We don't have to worry about this yet, and you'll have to ask Gil." Mum says. "If you all agree then yes, that's very kind of you. Fry, can you go and chivvy Brooke and Gil down for breakfast please?"

Fry goes upstairs and follows the noise of Brooke into Gil's room. Gil is in tears, and Brooke is standing in his doorway.

"And the inside bit crawls out and goes into your brain and you can't ever get it out again." Brooke is telling him.

"Brooklyn!" Fry glares at her. "Don't tease him!"

"I like my bwain!" Gil sobs.

"Your hearing aid doesn't go into your brain." Fry says. "You have to wear it until your glue ear gets better, Dad said."

"Yeah, until all the glue comes exploding out..." Brooke says.

"Go to breakfast and shut it!" Fry shoos her. "I hope the new baby doesn't turn out like you. One of you is enough."

"Well if they turn out like you, we might win an award for the boringest family in Britain." Brooke says.

"BREAKFAST! EVERYONE! NOW!" Mum yells from downstairs.

Fry helps Gil put his hearing aid in. Gil holds his hand as they go downstairs. Gil is about the only person that Fry doesn't mind doing this.

"Fwy?"

"Yes?"

"You weally sure about my bwain?"

"Course I am." Fry says. "Brooklyn is teasing. It won't go in your brain, your eardrum is in the way."

"What's this?" Gil tugs at the letter sticking out of Fry's pocket. Fry shoves it back in.

"It's private, don't tell, Gil."

"Secwet?"

"Yes, it's a secret. I want to read it first."

"Goddit."

When he gets to school, he makes a beeline for one corner of the playground. Joram, Tommy and George are waiting there already, also with their letters.

"You didn't sneak a look already, did you?" George asks him.

"No. We all agreed we'd do this together so none of us could wind each other up." Fry says.

They open their envelopes together. And there is silence for a few minutes. Until eventually, George looks up at the others.

"Well aren't any of you going to say anything?" she demands.

"Well why don't you?" Tommy asks her. "Did you get in or what?"

"Yes, I got in, West and Oaking." George says. "And I've got a scholarship for West."

"That's great!" Tommy says. "Well done!"

"I have got into Oaking. I am not sure how." Joram says. Tommy whoops and claps him on the shoulder, and Joram smiles shyly, but looks pleased.

"What about you, Fry?" Tommy asks.

Fry looks down at the two bits of paper.

"I didn't get into West." he says. "But I suspected that when I didn't get an interview."

"And Oaking?" Tommy asks.

They all look at him. Fry picks up the second bit of paper and reads it again.

"I got into Oaking. Full scholarship."

Tommy and Joram cheer for him. George gets up and walks off. And for once, Fry understands what she's feeling. She can't say she's disappointed because she's got a great opportunity to go to another school, and a great school at that, but he knows she wanted that scholarship as much as he did. And he knows that, just a little bit, he'll miss having her as a rival.

"Tommy, please tell me you're coming with me and Joram." he blurts out.

"Hey Joram, give me a minute, I need to talk to Fry." Tommy says. Joram nods and goes off to call his uncle.

"You didn't get the tennis scholarship, did you?" Fry asks him, when Joram goes.

"No mate. You have to pass the exam to get a scholarship. I didn't pass either." Tommy says, casually. "But I'm taking the Holby High exam next week, and that one's dead easy, I'm bound to get in there."

"Are you sad?" Fry asks him.

"No." Tommy says. "I knew I'd blown it. I don't think I would have liked all the homework at Oaking anyway. That's more your thing. I only tried for it again because they were so nice to me and let me use their tennis courts after last time I didn't get in."

"Are you being brave?"

"A bit. But we'll be okay, Fry, we'll all be okay." Tommy says. "You'll like Oaking, I just know it, with all those brainy sorts. George'll be the smartest girl at West and top of the class. Joram might not be your best mate but you'll be able to look out for each other."

"And what about you?" Fry asks.

"Hey, so long as the school has a tennis court, I'll survive anywhere." Tommy says. "And we can still be friends. We'll email or something."

"Are you being brave again?"

"I'm always brave. Hey Fry, do me a favour? Don't tell the others I didn't get in. I spent too long playing tennis and not enough studying. It was kind of stupid of me."

"You're not stupid." Fry says.

"I know. Thanks to you. Doesn't mean I don't still do stupid things sometimes though." Tommy says. He nods. "Your little brother is watching. You should go tell him you're going to Oaking."

Fry looks around, then gets up and goes over to Gil.

"You weed?" Gil asks.

"I read it. I'm going to Oaking. It's the nice big school I told you about."

"Today?"

"Not today. In September."

"When dat?"

"Ten months. Not for ages."

"Can I go, when I'm big?" Gil asks.

"Maybe, if you study hard." Fry says.

"Oh." Gil says. "Fwy?"

"Yes?"

"You weally, weally sure my bwain won't get eated?"

"Really sure. And it's 'eaten', not 'eated'."

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2018-10-27T17:19:00

2018-10-27T21:16:26Z

"Are you nervous?" Mum asks, as she drops Fry off at the gate. "Are you sure you don't want me to walk you to the hall?"

"No and yes." Fry says.

"It's okay to be nervous." Mum says. "You know we'll be proud of you however you do, and you know we'll make sure you get a good..."

"Look." Fry holds up a hand. "I'm not nervous. I'm not stressed. I'm going to go in and kick this exam's arse, and I'm going to enjoy it, just like I enjoyed preparing for it, not that anyone believed me."

Mum opens her mouth. Then closes it and nods.

"Well good luck."

"Oh I assure you, luck will have nothing to do with it." Fry says, picking up his bag and striding down into the school.

He's memorised the map he was given last time he came here and makes it easily to the exam hall. He gets a number to pin on his shirt. He's worn his school uniform, as the head advised them all to, to make it easier to find the others and also to make him feel in 'work mode'. However he notices that most of the other kids have come in civvies. Apart from one, who is in a suit and a tie.

Fry doesn't groan at the suited boy, but he does pause at the recognition. The other boy spots him and pauses in return. Neither is quite sure whether to wave, come over, or pretend they didn't see each other. In the end, the other boy comes over to Fry. Fry stands a bit straighter.

"Patrick Witherspoon. I thought you were staying at The Gates. Why are you here?"

"None of your business." Patrick says.

They lock eyes. If anyone can wind Fry up today, it's Patrick, who has been his lifelong rival since he was three years old. Patrick, whose mother insisted that he also be moved up a year after Fry was. Patrick who eventually left Fry's school for repeating racist language his mother used, and then got a scholarship at The Gates, where his parents felt he could make 'nice Upper Class friends'. Patrick who Fry still has to face every year at chess tournaments.

"I hope we both get in." Fry says.

"You do?" Patrick asks, looking surprised.

"Yes. What's the point in having an arch-nemesis I only get to see once a year?" Fry says.

"I thought I was your arch-nemesis." George says, coming up next to him. She puts her hands on her hips. "I'm kinda offended now."

"You're a rival, not my arch-nemesis." Fry says. "George, meet Patrick. He got expelled from our school before you came along. Patrick, this is George. She's Head Girl, she's formidable and should not be underestimated."

George appears rather pleased by this summery. Fry points to a boy across the room.

"And that's Tommy, he's our Head Boy."

"The one doing armpit farts?" Patrick asks.

"Yes, that's him." Fry says. "And the guy next to him is Joram. I think that's all of us trying to get in here from our school. Except Pixie, but I don't see her here."

At this point, the invigilator calls everyone into the exam hall. The first thing Fry notices, to his alarm, is that the piano has moved. His master plan to attract attention is ruined! Determined not to let it put him off, he sits down at his desk and tackles the papers as best he can.

They're all much harder than the Holby West papers. Around three quarters of the way through the first hour long paper, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Tommy put his paper down and stare around the room.

"That was tough." Joram says, at the break.

"I agree." Fry says.

"I'm sure mine was fine." Tommy says, brightly. "I mean, the last page is meant to be really hard and they say it doesn't matter if you don't complete it, and the other five were fine."

"Tommy, there were eight pages." Fry says. "You need to go and tell them if your paper only had six."

Tommy shoots off. Joram shoots Fry a worried glance.

"He was at a big tennis match yesterday, and then stayed up all night doing the practice papers."

"But he's had a month to do those." Fry says.

"He said because last time he tried here he was well done he thought he'd be okay." Joram sighs. "I don't think I will pass either."

"But you're very smart." Fry says. "And you work hard."

"I think all the kids here are smart and work hard. I think they too have spoken English more than one year." Joram says.

"You've told them you only learned English a year ago, haven't you?" Fry asks.

Joram shakes his head.

"Why not? I mean, I know you don't like to tell people you're a refugee, but you should get more points." Fry says.

"No. I do not think it works that way." Joram says.

The invigilator calls them back through for the English paper. This is usually Fry's worst paper. But the comprehension isn't too bad, and he gets an opportunity when he gets to the sixth question:

'In the passage, Adrian describes himself as being 'an intellectual, but not very clever'. Give an example of someone you know, in real life, who has done something clever.'

'The cleverest person I know apart from me is Joram Al-Bayati. He was a straight A student back in Syria and when he came here just over a year ago he didn't speak any English. Now he's nearly top of our class. His candidate number is 381. He won't tell you he's from Syria because at his old school people called him a terraced.'

There. That should do it. He finishes the rest of the questions and turns the page over to tackle the story.

"Write a story called 'The Great Heist'."

Okay. Crime. He's got this one. He hesitates for a moment, then puts pen to paper.

'He was not the most subtle of criminals. He had a big pink moustache and he was very loud. Maybe that made it easier for him to do the crime, because people ran away from him and looked behind their newspapers and pretended that he was not there. That was his genius. His name was Milton Moustacheman.

He had his eye on the Golden Spanner, not because he needed money, but because he wanted to know more about it. But he didn't ask permission, he just strode in and took it, and that's theft..."

The invigilator warns them at the five minute mark. He writes hurriedly.

'And then the detective said 'You're nicked, sunbeam!'. And despite the fact that he had the Spanner in his hand, Milton said 'Why? What have I done?'. And it made you think that somehow, even though you could see the Spanner, he was innocent all along.'

At the lunch break, Tommy tells Fry that he managed to speak to someone about missing the page of his maths paper, and they reassured him that these things happen and not to worry.

"Oh, that's good." Fry says, digging into his fish and chips. Patrick, who doesn't seem to be talking to anyone from his own school, has come over to join them, and none of them have objected.

"Pixie never showed, then?" George comments. "Not hiding in the car, is she?"

"No." Tommy says, a little defensively. "She just decided she doesn't want to come here. I'll miss her if I get in."

"So when's everyone's interview for Holby West?" George asks. "Mine's on Monday. How about you, Fry?"

"I don't know yet." Fry says.

"Then you didn't get in." Patrick says, helpfully. "Because they're alphabetical, and mine is Tuesday."

There is an awkward silence. Then Fry gets up and leaves the table. Tommy punches Patrick on the arm.

"You're a piece of work! What did you tell him that for?!"

Patrick shrugs. "I'm his arch-nemesis. Duh."

Fry strides back up to the main part of the school, his mind all over the place. He'd been so sure he had got into West. He wonders if George asked on the off-chance that she could put him off. She probably needs that scholarship as much as he does if she wants to come here.

And then, suddenly, he spots it.

The piano.

It's in a side room, clearly having been wheeled out from the hall to make room for the exams. He glances at the door. Since it doesn't say private, he goes in and begins to play.

He is so engrossed that he doesn't notice another door in the room open, and a woman with short cropped hair step through. But he jumps to his feet when he finishes the piece and she quietly applauds.

"Sorry. I came in here to calm down." And it's true. Although he'd planned to jump on the piano when it was in the hall, and show off, and try and get that music scholarship for sure, this moment was entirely unplanned.

"Very sensible of you." the woman remarks.

"You are Dr Haycroft, the new headmistress of Oaking School, with over thirty years of teaching experience primarily in mathematics and a recent award for recognition of your achievements promoting women in STEM subjects." Fry blurts.

Dr Haycroft raises her eyebrow. "I am indeed. And you are?"

"Alexander Jefry Sandhu, but I like to be called Fry." Fry says.

"You've read our prospectus then, Fry?"

"I've memorised it, Dr Haycroft."

"All twenty four pages? What for?"

"I really want to come here." Fry says. "Last year your A level pass rate A to C was ninety six point two percent. It says on page twenty one. And I need to try and win a full scholarship because my father's vasectomy failed."

Dr Haycroft snorts, goes to a drawer and pulls out one of the prospectuses. She turns to page fourteen.

"What is on page fourteen?"

"Page fourteen. 'Sporting facilities. Oaking has sporting facilities for a wide range of activities. Our fully heated pool was renovated in 2014...'."

"Thank you, Fry, you can stop there." Dr Haycroft says. "Did you orchestrate this to stand out?"

"Oh no." Fry says. "I did have a plan to stand out, but it was thwarted."

"What a pity. Well, I shall await your exam results with interest and we shall chat again at your interview. "

"Oh, does that mean I'm definitely getting one? Thank you very much!" Fry says. "West don't want me."

"Whyever not?" Dr Haycroft asks.

"Well, I don't know yet." Fry says. "But lots of people don't want you when you're autistic, so you get used to it. They don't say so right out, they say 'hm' and 'well' and 'I don't think we can accommodate you' and things like that. It's not so bad when you're little, but the older you get the less endearing you are."

"Well Fry, no promises, but I can't imagine you've done badly enough not to get an interview if you've memorised our prospectus. And being autistic is no problem here, we have numerous autistic students." Dr Haycroft says. "Now off with you back to the hall, and no more stunts, planned or otherwise."

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2018-10-07T21:04:00

2018-10-07T20:18:39Z

The Holby West exam is almost, in Fry's opinion, a practice run. He'd be happy going to this school - it's a good school - but it's a bit of a long commute and it's not as exciting as Oaking.

He finishes the maths exam half an hour early, and does all the questions again to pass the time. The reasoning paper is pretty straightforward too. That just leaves the comprehension, which is his most difficult subject, but he gives it his best shot.

"You're trying for a music scholarship, aren't you?" one of the prefects who is helping with the exam, says. "You need to come to the music block."

Fry, who had been expecting this, follows him. He sits at the piano, and plays his pieces perfectly. The head of music looks very impressed.

"How have you found Holby West?" the teacher asks, when he's finished.

Fry pauses. He hadn't realised there might be interview questions today. He is meant to be practicing those with Mr Irons next week, and he'd only been preparing for the Oaking ones at home.

"Well." He says. "We typed it into google maps, and Dad drove me here according to the directions."

The head of music frowns slightly.

"What do you think of the school?"

"I think it's quite a good school." Fry says. "I mean, it's the third best in Holby in the league tables, which is quite impressive. The uniform smells a little odd but I'm sure I could get used to it."

"I see. And what would you say is your greatest challenge as a musician?"

Fry considers this.

"Clapping."

"Clapping?"

"Yes. If people clap too loudly, sometimes I run out of the room."

"I see. Well, thank you Alexander, we'll be in touch."

Fry takes his music and leaves. Well, that wasn't so bad. He managed to answer all of the questions, even though he wasn't expecting any, so that means he's bound to pass.

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2018-09-24T18:08:00

2018-09-24T19:38:01Z

"Where's Fry?" Teddy asks Tommy, one lunchtime.

"Practicing piano in one of the music rooms." Tommy says, bashing his tennis ball against the wall.

"He's doing that a lot." Teddy says.

"He's trying to get a music scholarship at Oaking." Noah says. "Or he can't go, apparently."

"How come?" Teddy asks.

"Because his dad's special operation failed and he's going to have another brother or sister." Tommy says, with a little bit of a smirk.

"Special operation?" Noah asks.

"Yeah. Fry said it was called a... vast entity or something." Tommy says. "I guess it's a really big thing. It stops the man having seeds. Except Fry's Dad's seeds still got through."

"Seeds?" Noah asks.

"You know. MAN seeds." Teddy says.

Noah looks totally bewildered. Tommy pauses his tennis practice and attempts to explain.

"You know, how there are man seeds and woman seeds and when they get together they get stuck together and that makes a baby, unless the vast entity is in the way." Tommy says, trying to sound like an expert.

"But I thought babies came from Jesus." Noah says.

There is an awkward pause, while Tommy looks at Teddy for assistance. Teddy makes alarmed faces and offers no useful help.

"Right, Noah, you remember when we went to the zoo, and that giraffe was sitting on the back of the other giraffe?"

Noah nods.

"That's where babies come from." Tommy says. "Unless the giraffe has a vast entity. I mean it makes sense if you think about it, because otherwise things like pandas wouldn't be going extinct because Jesus could just send more."

Noah processes this for a moment.

"I think I understand." He says slowly.

"You do?" Teddy asks, incredulously. "I already knew where babies came from and I'm totally confused."

"We believe that God makes the world." Noah says. "I know you might not believe that. But we also believe that God can't do everything for you, you have to do some things yourself. So it makes sense that to make a baby you have to do something. But what is a vast entity?"

"Well... it's a big thing, innit?" Tommy says. "A giraffe probably gets an even bigger one." He adds.

"Thomas!" A man calls him from across the playground. Tommy picks up his racket.

"Got to go. My dad's taking me to extra tennis coaching this afternoon."

"What, now?" Noah asks. "Don't you and the others taking the entrance exams have a practice paper today?"

Tommy shrugs. "Dad thinks I should focus on trying to get a tennis scholarship. I'm much better at tests since Fry gave me all that coaching a few years ago. I nearly got on the talented program, remember, so this time round it should be easier."

He grins and runs off after his dad. Noah shoots an anxious glance at Teddy.

"I know they tell us not to stress, but I think he might be a bit overconfident." Noah says.

The two of them go into the school - having the privilege that Year 6 students are allowed to do this unsupervised at lunch time - to find Fry and make sure he's not stressing himself out. "Although Fry doesn't actually seem to get stressed about work." Teddy says. "Unless you make him stop."

They pause outside the music room. Someone is playing. Someone is playing really well. They peep at Fry through the window. They know better not to interrupt him until he finishes his song, then knock.

"Fry, that's amazing!" Teddy says.

"Thanks." Fry says. "I need at least four exemplary pieces to stand out at the audition."

"I thought it was three." Noah says.

"Yeah, but I'm going to try and play an extra one to get their attention." Fry says. "I really need that music scholarship."

"Oh yes." Noah says. "Congratulations on being about to be a big brother again. What's a vast entity?"

"I don't know. And keep it quiet, Coral and Brooke and Gil don't know about the baby yet." Fry says.

"Is your mum having another baby?" Jamal asks, overhearing as he walks past.

"Go away." Fry tells him.

"I'm gonna go ask Coral..." Jamal runs off.

After a minor scuffle, in which Jamal is sat on three on one until he submits, the Fifth Sandhu Kid remains reasonably under wraps.

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2018-09-03T18:43:00

2018-09-03T19:38:00Z

In some respects, being in Mrs Patel's class isn't like having a new teacher at all. Fry has known the headmistress since he was two, been in her office more times than he would like, and they generally understand one another.

Mrs Patel calls him over during the first morning, just as she does with everyone else, for some one-to-one time.

"Right, Fry." She says, pulling him up a chair. "We're going to make some goals for this year."

"I don't like football." Fry says.

"Goals as in things we want to achieve." Mrs Patel says.

"Oh, well I want to take all the entrance exams, and get scholarships." Fry says.

Mrs Patel smiles. "I'm sure you do. All right, we'll do that first. Have you been to look round any of the schools?"

"Yes. I'm trying for Oaking, Holby High, and Holby West." Fry says. "I wanted to try for the Gates but Mum says it's too snooty."

"I don't think you would like the Gates, anyway." Mrs Patel says. "Right, well your maths is well up to standard for all three of those schools but it won't hurt to practice topics at the level that will be on your exam, even though you might think they are a bit easy for you. You'll practice some reasoning papers, I don't think you'll find those difficult once you get the hang of them. The comprehension one we will practice. Did you do the holiday reading Mr Irons set you?"

"Yes." Fry says.

"Good. You'll go back to working with him once a week until the exams are over. And I will set you one story to write a week, since the maths homework won't take you long." Mrs Patel says. "Now, other targets. You're now more comfortable working with new people, changes in the classroom environment, and changes to the timetable. What parts of your trip to Oaking last term did you find difficult?"

"Lunch." Fry says, after a moment.

"As in getting food, or not knowing what to do with yourself?" Mrs Patel asks.

"Both." Fry says.

"All right, leave that one with me, I'll have a think how we can help." Mrs Patel says. She sets him some work and sends him back to his seat.

***

"What are you going to do while we work on the exam work, Noah?" Fry asks Noah at lunch time. Noah isn't going in for any of the exams; his parents are sending him to boarding school next year.

"I thought I'd join in the exam work in case my parents change their mind." Noah says.

"Is that likely?" Fry asks, hopefully.

"I don't know." Noah says. "If someone didn't want to go to boarding school, how would they be best to go about it?"

Fry considers this.

"In a book Mr Irons got me to read over the summer, the girl tried being very good, or very naughty."

"Did it work?"

"No." Fry says. "But neither did the light bulb the first thousand times." He considers. "You're normally very good, so I think you would have to go for naughty. But don't do anything disruptive, because we're all working for our exams."

Noah nods. After a moment of contemplation, he goes to the smart board and writes the rudest word he knows. A minute later, Mrs Patel comes into the classroom.

"Who's been writing 'bottom' on the board?" she asks.

"It was me." Noah says.

"Well that's a bit silly, isn't it, wipe it off please." Mrs Patel says.

"Did I do it wrong?" Noah whispers to Fry as he sits back down.

"I'm not sure." Fry says.

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2018-08-10T19:57:00

2018-08-10T19:52:23Z

On the last day of term, it was time to say goodbye to Ben, who was going back to America. Ben cried, which was ridiculous in Fry's opinion, given Ben had spent the entire year whining about how he acted out because he missed America. Jamal cried too, probably because he realised that siding with Ben was a bad idea now that Ben was leaving again.

They'd spent the previous day in Mrs Patel's classroom. Mrs Patel, the headmistress, took year six, and she had made clear that she meant business.

"You will be in the top class, the role models of the school." She said. "Most if not all of you will be taking exams for secondary school, so we will be doing plenty of practice. They are nothing to worry about, but I expect you all to do your very best."

At break, they get to talking about the future.

"What exams will you all be taking?" Tommy asks, idly tossing a tennis ball at the wall.

"West and Gates." Kasha says.

"The Gates is awful." Pixie says. "I couldn't get away from there fast enough."

"I know." Kasha says. "But my parents want me to try for it. I'm really hoping for West. Where are you trying, Pix?"

"I don't know yet." Pixie says. "I don't have to decide for a few months at least."

"Come and try for Oaking, with me and Fry." Tommy says.

"I'm not clever enough for Oaking." Pixie says.

"Course you are." Tommy says, loyally. "I'm trying to get sports scholarships so I'll be taking the exam for Oaking, West and Holby High and hoping I can get enough points. What about you, Teddy?"

"We're moving this summer." Teddy says. "It'll be a long drive here in the mornings but I'll be in the catchment area for a grammar and a really good comp, so I'll take the grammar exam. You should come and see our new house, it's epic."

Fry looks around at them all. For the first time, it really hits him that after next year, they will all be going their separate ways. Is it really only Tommy that's taking the Oaking exam with him?

"Noah, what are you taking?" he asks.

"I'm not taking any either." Noah says. "My parents are going back to Africa next year, and I'll be sent to boarding school." He doesn't look very happy about it.

"Oh." Fry says, flatly. He likes Tommy enough now, but he had rather hoped to be with some of his other friends.

___

"What do you mean you want to take all the exams?" Dad asks, when Fry gets home.

"Oaking, High, West and Gates." Fry says. "And the grammar and the good comp."

"We're not in the catchment area for the grammar or the good comp, Fry, I've checked." Mum says. "You'd need to get two buses. And you're not going to The Gates, it's very expensive and I'm not having you come home thinking you own the place."

"But Mum, what if I get a scholarship?"

"No. Final word." Mum says, giving Dad a look to dare him to say otherwise.

"Why do you want to take all the exams, Fry?" Dad asks.

Fry hesitates.

"Because I think I'm going to lose all my friends." he says. "And it took such a long time to make them."

Mum and Dad exchange another look, one he can't read.

"It would help if he got a scholarship." Dad says to Mum. "And he won't actually have to do any more work to take the exam for all four schools than he would for one school."

"He's not going to The Gates!" Mum says to Dad. "It'd be nothing but trouble and he'd more than likely have a fight with Patrick Witherspoon in the first week."

Mum has a point. Patrick is his arch-nemesis and it probably would be annoying having to deal with him every day.

"That's a point." He says. "Mum, can you Whatsapp the other parents and find out where all my other enemies are trying for please?"

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2018-05-25T21:05:00

2018-05-25T21:10:53Z

"You what?"

Ben and Jamal stare incredulously at Fry, as he presents them with the three page document.

"I challenge you two to a duel. If you lose, you have to confess that you set me up over the graffiti, and you have to leave me and my friends alone for the rest of the term."

"And what would we get if we win?" Ben asks.

"I'll give you my nice felt tips." Fry says. "Since I already owned up about shredding your picture in retaliation, because I'm not a coward."

Jamal starts reading the first page.

"Don't agree yet, Ben." he says. "He's got skills."

"That's why it's two on one." Fry says. "If you step out of the ring or are down for a count of five, you lose."

"Fry, are you sure about this?" Noah says anxiously. "You know about the ban... those year six kids got three days detention after that lamp got broken."

"I think it's a disgrace that Ben and Jamal didn't own up already." Tommy puts in. "I'll cover for you, Fry."

"And I'll count to five when someone goes down." Teddy says.

"Okay, you're on." Ben says, suddenly. "You're going down, Fry!"

***

In the end, they gather behind the bike shed at three. Kasha draws a ring on the ground in chalk.

Tommy carries a small table out of the back door, and sets it in the middle of the ring. Fry stands on one side, Jamal on the other. Jamal, who is smaller than Fry, looks a bit nervous.

"I want a good, clean fight." Tommy says. "Raise your fists! After three!"

Fry puts his right arm on the table. Jamal does the same. They lock fists. As Tommy counts three, they arm wrestle. Fry pretends to struggle before defeating Jamal, holding him down for a count of five. Ben, who is bigger than him, grins nastily across the table.

"Was the reason you and Jamal set me up with the graffiti because of the picture, or because you hate me?" Fry asks.

"Both." Ben says. "And after I get your felt tips, I'm going to colour over the black with the yellow."

"Three, two, one, fight!" Tommy says.

Arm-wrestling Ben is harder work than Jamal. However, as the pre-arranger of the duel, Fry has had the chance to memorise and practice the Wikihow entry on how to win at arm wrestling with Brooke last night. Soon enough, he has Ben pinned to the table, and there is a cheer from the watching children.

"WHAT IS THIS?!" Miss Havisham appears out of the back door, putting her hands on her hips.

"Ben and Jamal have a confession to make." Fry says.

"Don't know what he's talking about." Ben says.

"Tommy?" Fry looks around. Tommy gets his phone out, and turns up the volume to max.

'"Was the reason you and Jamal set me up with the graffiti because of the picture, or because you hate me?"
"Both."'

***

"I've had a note today informing me that you were planning a duel, Fry." Dad says, in the car on the way home. "I'm glad you weren't actually going to beat them up."

"I wasn't ever planning to fight them." Fry says. "Even if I had, I could have got them out of the ring without hurting them easy. I just needed them to think I was going to try and beat them physically rather than outsmart them. But Autor and Wilford pointed out that they could snitch on me before the fight, so I changed the plan."

"Or I could have talked to your teacher for you." Dad says.

"It was my word against theirs." Fry says.

"Do you know what would have happened if you'd fought them?" Dad asks. "Or even threatened them? You would have been suspended. They might have been too, but it would have been a much, much worse mark on your record than the graffiti."

"Yes, that's why I didn't do it." Fry says. "I'm not stupid, you know."

"No more duelling." Dad says firmly.

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2018-05-14T20:23:00

2018-05-14T21:36:34Z

"We're not having fish for tea tonight." Fry says, as he walks up the playground with his siblings.

"But it's Monday." Coral says. "We always have fish on Monday."

"Not any more." Fry says.

"Why?" Coral asks.

"Because I'm not a spoilt brat." Fry says. "Wilford says that if we have the same meals every day of the week because I find it easier that makes me a spoilt brat."

"What have those things got to do with each other?" Coral calls after him as he strides off.

"Stuff that, I like fish!" Brooke protests. "I want fish for tea!"

Gil chews his fingers worriedly, and shortly after goes off to his nursery class, where he gets all in a tizz when Miss Brimstone asks him what day it is. Quite unable to work out whether it is still Monday, because there isn't going to be fish, he has to watch Esme-Rose get the gold star he should have got for telling the teacher what day it is.

Coral decides to catch Fry at break time and tell him not to listen to Wilford, but it starts to pour with rain. Mr Irons declares a Wet Break, and they all have to stay in their classrooms.

Brooke, also confined to her classroom, takes the opportunity to draw a big fish, which she labels 'My tea' and then folds into an envelope to give to Mum later.

Fry stares gloomily out of the window, feeling very out of sorts. Wet Break isn't in his schedule, and everyone is always noisy and annoying when it happens. He gravitates over to the big Expression Board at the back of the classroom. Mr Mags had installed it, and said anyone could draw on the white space. It was one of the few things of his Ms Owlswick kept when she took over, though they'd had to replace the paper from time to time as it got full.

He settles in one corner and begins to draw sin cos tan triangles over and over with his black sharpie, which he's been saving for such an occasion. School black felt tips are never up to scratch. The repetition of the three equations makes him feel calmer, until someone nudges into him from behind, causing him to smudge one of the Hs.

"Watch it!" He complains, looking around.

"You watch it." Ben says, moving from the rocket he's drawing. "What's all that rubbish?"

"Maths." Fry says, trying to neaten up his triangle.

"But it's just letters in triangles." Ben says.

"Advanced maths." Fry says.

"Well it looks stupid." Ben says. But then he glares. "And look at all the room you've taken up! Where are Jamal and I going to put the top of our rocket?"

"Not my problem, I was here first." Fry says.

Ms Owlswick comes over to find out what the argument is about.

"Fry is allowed to express himself on the expression board." she says firmly. "And he used the space first, which is the rule. But it would be kind, Fry, if you would let Ben put a triangle of coloured paper over the top of a few of your triangles for the top of his rocket."

"But I was here first." Fry protests. "Why should I?"

At that moment, the bell goes for the next lesson. Ms Owlswick sighs.

"We'll have to resolve this later. And Fry, I don't want you using sharpie on the Expression Board, it's going to mark the pinboard underneath."

Fry sits back in his seat, feeling even more cross. Wet break, having to give up his triangles for Ben and Jamal's stupid rocket, and now he's got to use a different pen to complete his pattern.

Half an hour later, the fire alarm goes off. How the school could possibly be on fire in the middle of the pouring rain, Fry doesn't know, but the options are either stay in the building with the agonising noise and possibly catch fire, or go and get wet. Ms Owlswick, who had been pre-warned that Fry tends to scream and clutch his ears when the fire alarm goes off, is somewhat relieved when Fry decides to go out and get wet, and lets him get on with his advanced maths quietly for the rest of the morning.

By lunch time, Fry has calmed down somewhat and decided that maybe he will let Ben have his triangle on the rocket after all, as it will cover the smudged 'H'. But as he goes back to the classroom from the dining hall to let them know, Ms Owlswick takes him aside.

"Fry, I realise this has been a difficult morning, but I can't excuse vandalism." she says, angrily.

"What vandalism?" Fry asks.

Ms Owlswick pushes open the door of the single toilet and points to the sin cos tan triangles written on there with sharpie.

"You will spend lunch break scrubbing this off." she says firmly. "Running over it with whiteboard marker should get it off."

"It wasn't me." Fry says.

"Someone told me they saw you doing it." Ms Owlswick says.

"Who?" Fry asks, indignantly. "Was it Ben?"

"No, it wasn't Ben." Ms Owlswick gets him a cloth and a whiteboard marker and tells him to get cracking.

All the little kids come past and stare at him and giggle. Eventually, Ben wanders past with Jamal, the two of them looking very smug indeed.

"You set me up, didn't you?" Fry says to Ben.

"Not me." Ben says.

"Jamal then." Fry glares at him.

"Prove it." Jamal says, grinning. "Come on Ben, let's go draw our new rocket on that coloured paper Ms Owlswick is getting out."

By the time he's finished scrubbing, the rain has finally stopped. He goes to report to Ms Owlswick at the staff room.

"I was falsely accused." He says, handing her the cloth. "And I'm mortally offended that you didn't believe me."

"If you really didn't do it, then I'm sorry." Ms Owlswick says. "But it's difficult when it's one person's word against another, Fry." She sighs. "Can you take this pen back to the classroom, and this note to the office on your way outside please?"

Fry takes the note and leaves. Miss Havisham, who is sitting in the staff room as Ms Owlswick comes back, gives a sniff.

"He usually does tell the truth, you know."

"But who else would graffiti maths?" Ms Owlswick asks.

"Someone who wants to get under his skin." Miss Havisham says.

Fry stomps back to the classroom. He deposits the pen next to the board, and then his eye falls on the rocket pictures sitting on Ben and Jamal's desks. Impulsively, he takes the pictures, folds them, and goes to the office with the note from Ms Owlswick. He hands the note to the woman in the office.

"Can I use the shredder please?" he asks.

"Go ahead, love." the office lady says. "So long as you promise not to stick your fingers in."

It takes just a second to shred Ben and Jamal's pictures. But it's not as satisfying as he thought it would be. In fact, when he sees Ben and Jamal's faces at the end of break when they discover their pictures gone, a look of distress that even he can recognise, he feels distinctly uncomfortable.

"Bad day?" Mum asks him, when he's laying the table for dinner.

Fry nods. And then he sniffs.

"Is that fish?"

"Of course it's fish. It's Monday." Mum says.

"But I told you you don't have to do that for me." Fry says.

"I'm not doing it for you." Mum says. "You want to try doing food shopping every week, for six people, Coral being fussy and me being deathly allergic to nuts. And how many meals do you think I know how to cook anyway? So you're having fish. And you only need to set five places, your dad's on call."

Fry feels suddenly relieved. Gil comes to the table and cries with relief that it's Monday after all. Coral decides she does like fish today, and Brooke feels that the success is entirely down to her persuasive picture.

"Mum?" Fry asks quietly, as they clean up after dinner. "I did something today I don't think I should have. What should I do?"

"Depends what you did." Mum says.

"Someone did something mean to me, and I did something mean back." Fry says.

"Well Fry, we've talked about 'revenging' before." Mum says. "It tends to make you do things that you might regret later. Sooner or later, one of you needs to make peace. Was it Ben again?"

"Partly, yes." Fry says.

"Ben will be going back to America in just a few months." Mum says. "And then you'll never have to deal with him again. If you feel bad about what you did, say sorry to him." She closes the dishwasher. "Do you want me to have a word with Ms Owlswick?"

"No, I think I've got this." Fry says. "Thanks Mum. For the chat. And the fish."

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2018-02-20T21:26:00

2018-02-20T22:54:10Z

The day before he goes to visit Oaking, Fry gets mixed advice from others at school.

"You're not going to leave before Year 6 are you?" Noah asks him, at break. "Year 6 is the best bit, we'll finally be top of the school."

Fry shakes his head. "I don't think so. They say I can't join the program because I'm only nine."

"But if they say you can, will you?" Tommy asks. "I mean, they wouldn't take me last year when I was only nine, but you're smarter than me."

"I don't know." Fry admits. "I don't really feel challenged here any more. I mean comprehension is still my hardest subject, but everything else just feels... mundane."

Ben, overhearing, throws a rubber at the back of Fry's head.

"You're such a nerd." he scoffs.

"You're the most mundane thing here." Fry retorts.

Ms Owlswick calls Fry over for her own words of wisdom before he and Ben can get into another fight.

"Fry, tomorrow the whole day is a test, and that doesn't mean just the written exam. They will be looking to see if you can behave yourself. Showing off and calling other people 'mundane' is not the sort of behaviour they are looking for. Nor do I want to hear of you getting into any fights. You are representing the school, so mind your manners."

The next morning, when Dad drops him off at Oaking, the first thing that strikes Fry is that it's very big and very noisy. He is slightly surprised when Dad drops him off at the main gate, and nobody comes to show him where to go. For a moment, he looks around in confusion. Surely Dad has made a mistake here? How is he expected to find his way in this huge school?

The whole day is a test

He stands at the side of the path, puts his hands over his ears, and scans the area. Eventually, he spots a sign for 'Main Reception', and follows it.

"My name is Alexander Sandhu and I'm here for the test." he tells the lady at the front office. She shows him into a room where there are five other kids, also wearing their own school uniforms rather than the Oaking one. Each one has a name badge with a number on their front. Fry gets his badge - 'Alexander - 6' - and sits down next to 'Maurice - 3'.

"Are you here for the test?" he asks Maurice, who looks incredibly nervous. The boy next to him nods. Then they sit quietly until a teacher comes in.

The teacher explains that they will have four tests, two in the morning and two in the afternoon, and that the questions get harder and harder and you're not expected to be able to answer them all. And then they'll take them away and send your own teacher the score which shows you what age you are performing at in different subjects.

"But I only have one age." Maurice says, looking confused. "I'm nine."

"What I mean is that if you can do maths as well as a twelve year old, we'll say you have a maths age of 12." the teacher explains, kindly.

It isn't clear whether Maurice understands this. Fry finds himself wondering whether Maurice loses points for that.

The first test is maths, which Fry is pretty confident about. That's the whole point of being here, after all. He finishes nearly all the questions, much to his satisfaction, though he would have rather done the whole thing. After a short break, the second one is English, and that one rapidly gets a lot more difficult. There are still a lot of pages left when he runs out of time.

Then the teacher gives them all a map.

"It's now lunch time. There is a free lunch for all of you in the dining hall. You must be back here by two o'clock."

The teacher leaves. Four of the kids take their maps and disappear. Fry is about to do the same, when he sees Maurice is just standing there.

"Your map is upside down." he says, helpfully.

"I can't read maps." Maurice says. "I don't know where to go."

"Well follow me, then." Fry says, shrugging. "I'm pretty sure all the big kids will be going to get lunch so we probably just have to follow the crowd."

They find the dining hall, but it's so crowded that Fry doesn't dare join the queue. Back at his usual school, he drops his tray so often because he's been knocked and jumps that one of the teachers usually helps him.

"I'm not that hungry." Maurice says quietly.

Fry is hungry, but he can't see a gap. He doesn't want to drop his tray in front of all these people. He looks around at Maurice, but Maurice has disappeared back out of the hall.

The noise in here is horrible. He's tempted to do the same.

But he's hungry.

Eventually he spots a teacher watching him. The teacher makes no move towards him. Ten minutes pass, and then unable to deal with being hungry any longer, Fry goes up to the teacher.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes?" The teacher smiles at him.

"I have autism, please will you help me?"

And just like that, she's helping him. Okay, that probably wasn't the answer to this test, but it results in him getting his lunch, which he takes to the emptiest table. The other four test candidates are all chatting on another table.

When he's finished lunch, there's still an hour of time left. What do they expect him to do now? He looks at the map. Should he go back to the room they were in this morning, or go for an explore? He decides on the latter.

It's certainly a magnificent school. He walks around and peeps in the windows of all the science rooms, and the music block. He has a look at the tennis courts that Tommy was so excited about, but they're pretty ordinary. And then he goes to have a look at the library.

In the library there is a little bit of clicking noise, which he gravitates towards. It's a chess club, and students are industriously playing.

"Check mate!" a girl of about sixteen says to a slightly younger student. Fry glances over. And suddenly recognises her. Boldly, he walks over to the table.

"You're Carla Martinez, the under sixteen girls' Holby chess champion." he says. "I recognise you from tournaments. Please can I play you?"

"Who are you?" Carla asks.

"My name is Alexander Sandhu but I like to be called Fry." Fry says. "I'm nine years old and I currently rank second in Holby in the under 11s." He looks at his watch. "I have thirty four minutes before I have to go back to my test."

Carla resets the board and invites him to join them. The rest of the chess club watches in interest. After an intense battle, she narrowly beats him, but he agrees to shake her hand.

"You're good!" she says. "Well played! Couple of years, and you'll be beating me I'm sure. Do you need help finding your way back to your test?"

"No, I've got it. Thanks." Fry says, taking his map and abruptly leaving.

The afternoon tests are a mixture too. The first one is a combination of science and logic and Fry finds it relatively easy. The second one has a lot of weird questions about what is the right thing to do in different situations and tells him just to pick the 'best' answer. He struggles with that one and isn't half way through when the bell rings.

Mum is waiting for him outside the room when he finishes. But then, as an afterthought, he turns back and approaches Maurice.

"Can I get your number?"

Maurice looks startled.

"Who, me? Why?" he asks nervously.

"You're going to apply here, right?" Fry asks. "When you're old enough. And I don't know many people like me."

"Like you?" Maurice asks.

"You know. On the autistic spectrum." Fry says.

"What's autistic?" Maurice asks.

Now it's Fry's turn to look startled.

"Never mind." he says, after a moment. "Can I have your number?"

"I don't talk on the phone."

"Me neither. I'll text you." Fry says.

Maurice does exchange numbers, and Fry joins Mum outside the room.

---

He keeps a close eye on the mail. If anyone is going to get the results of this thing, it's going to be him. Not Mum or Dad or a teacher. As it is, there's no need; Mum sends him next door to collect a parcel from the neighbours, and he recognises the stamp of Oaking school on it.

"Why's Oaking writing to you?" Rowan asks, handing the parcel over. "Going to join the gifted program and become even more boring?"

Fry glowers at him and takes the parcel. He takes the back door to avoid Mum, and goes upstairs. Inside the parcel are two text books, a letter for him, and a letter for his parents.

He opens the letter for his parents first.

'Dear Dr and Mrs Sandhu,

It was a pleasure to meet Alexander on test day. We have now analysed the results of both the written tests and the staff feedback.

As you are aware, this was not an entrance exam and the test was for advice purposes only.
Alexander scores very highly in maths (13.5), logical reasoning (12.5) and science (11.0). He scores below average for his age in comprehension (8.0) though above in spelling and grammar (10.5). He scored further below average for his age in the situational judgement paper (6.5) however he completed so little of the paper that we suspect this is not a true reflection of his ability so much as difficulty understanding the expectation of the test. His practical problem-solving during the day was good; he required some help with ADLs but asked for it appropriately.'

Fry reads the first part twice. He's still not sure what ADLs are. But he reads on.

'In our opinion Alexander is neither academically nor emotionally ready to start secondary school in September 2018 and we strongly recommend that he remains at his current primary school. We have included some advanced texts for Alexander to work on in class as I understand that he has surpassed what his school has available.

In terms of what Oaking could offer Alexander (subject to success in the 2019 entrance exam) we would suggest that rather than him trying to join the Gifted and Talented Program that he instead takes the exam for the main cohort of students in Year 7. An exception could then be made allowing him to join the Gifted and Talented group for his maths and science lessons, rather than him trying to take advanced classes in subjects he struggles with at an ordinary level.

If you choose an alternative secondary school for Alexander, we would suggest that you ensure that they can cater for a child who will, more than likely, be ready to take GCSE maths by the age of 12.

Kind regards...'

Fry puts the letter back in the envelope and glues it shut with a glue stick. On one hand, he's disappointed. A part of him had always hoped that he might just make it into the Program. On the other, what they're suggesting does kind of make sense. It would be hard to take advanced classes in subjects where he struggles to keep up with the ordinary class. He can't really argue with that.

He opens his own letter, which is much shorter, and says that he's good at maths and science, needs to work on some other things, and here are some free books. And then, entirely forgetting to take the parcel down to his mother, starts looking at the books with interest.

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2018-02-07T21:01:00

2018-02-07T21:56:18Z

"You're lucky a teacher didn't see you messing around." Fry stands on the step to retrieve Gil's shoe from the top of the bush.

"I weren't!" Gil says.

"You mean 'I wasn't'." Fry corrects.

The correction is lost on Gil. Fry helps him put his little shoe back on.

"I weren't messing. Big girl did..." Gil starts.

"Alexander Sandhu!"

Fry looks around, and goes over to where the headmistress is standing. Gil gives a little sigh and goes to sit on both his feet so that Tilly can't take his shoes again.

"Yes Mrs Patel?" Fry asks.

"Come with me, please." Mrs Patel says.

Fry follows her. He has an inkling what this is about: his little stunt a few weeks ago, where he got hold of a Year 8 level maths book from the bar, completed the entire thing, and presented it to his teacher. The alarmed look on her face was clear even to him. He'd rather enjoyed it. It would teach Ms Owlswick to let him get bored.

Mrs Patel doesn't look alarmed, as far as he can tell, but she's known him for long enough that she's probably not that surprised. Fry knows that Mr Irons and Miss Havisham tried to stop him pulling this particular stunt for years by distracting him in other directions. And it worked.

Sure enough, when he gets to the head's office, both Ms Owlswick and Mr Irons are seated there, waiting for him. He doesn't feel intimidated by so many adults, and sits down opposite the head teacher. Mrs Patel puts his complete maths notebook on the table in front of him.

"Firstly, Alexander, and this is important: the only copy of Book 8 in this school lives in my office. Is that the copy you used?"

"No, I bought my own." Fry says. "And I paid with my own money."

"Good." Mrs Patel says. "Secondly, have you got hold of Book 9?"

Fry hesitates. This had been his strategy for if the plan didn't work. But then he nods.

"Yes, and I already worked half way through it."

He wonders whether he's going to be told off. The teachers exchange a look, then Mrs Patel nods to Mr Irons, who continues where she left off.

"Fry, we understand your frustration. I know you've talked about how your rivals have all gone, now you're one of the oldest in the school and the others in your class who challenged you have left. I know it's been hard too having two new teachers in one year. But we need to know what you thought you would achieve here."

Fry looks down at the maths book.

"I don't know." he admits. "I was bored and I wanted to get your attention."

"Bearing in mind that the decision lies out of your hands..." Mrs Patel says, "Are you now so bored with primary school that you want to be in secondary school? Is that what you're saying?"

Fry thinks about this.

"I don't know." he admits again. "I'm just fed up of being stuck with morons like Ben hassling me, making things out of PVA glue and paper when I could be learning something."

Ms Owlswick goes red.

Mrs Patel puts a letter in front of him.

"Ms Owlswick has very kindly been making some enquiries for you. You have an invitation." she says. "It isn't an entrance exam, nor an offer of a place, so I don't want you getting your hopes up. The head of the Oaking Gifted and Talented program wants to meet you."

Fry looks up.

"I thought they wouldn't take me even if I pass the exam because I'm too young. And if I'm not strong enough on things other than maths."

"That is still their position." Mrs Patel says. "However, Oaking school has particular expertise in catering for children who do not fit well into academic years. They want you to visit for the day, look around the school, and take a developmental test. They will then give us some advice on how to challenge you."

"Like the sort of things I do with Max?" Fry asks. Max is his educational psychologist, but he doesn't see him very often.

"Yes, similar to that." Mrs Patel says. "Oaking will be measuring your academic skills mostly, but they will also be looking at how you cope in their environment. Ideally, we want to find a solution for you so that you can stay here for Year 6 next year, without being so bored that you feel you have to buy your own text books."

"Do my mum and dad know about this?" Fry asks.

"Yes, we have spoken to them. You should talk to them too." Mrs Patel says. "Everyone wants what's best for you, Fry. But we have to work out what that is."

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2017-12-17T17:44:00

2017-12-17T18:30:29Z

Miss Owlswick was a very different teacher from Mr Mags.

It has taken a few weeks for Fry to get used to her. A few of his classmates had thought that a teaching student might be a pushover, but Miss Owlswick is anything but. Her first action in the class was to fire JJ as Class President, immediately after half term, after hearing him boasting that he got there by bribing everyone.

"Who was second?" Miss Owlswick had enquired. "Anna and Bethany tied? Well, in that case Anna is Class President for the rest of this term, and Bethany the half term after Christmas."

This had pleased both Anna and Bethany immensely. JJ, surprisingly, was not too upset. He later admitted that he hadn't expected to get away with bribery in the first place.

Her second act was to lay down the law when she caught Ben winding Fry up by blowing on the back of his hair while he was trying to work. Although she hadn't taught any students with Fry's particular needs before, she had taken plenty of advice from Mr Irons, who was mentoring her, and knew that this was not an innocent bit of teasing on Ben's part.

"If you can't get on with your work without disturbing other students, perhaps I better send you to sit with the infants." she said, fixing Ben with a stare through her thick glasses.

Ten minutes later, when Ben had assumed she was bluffing, she carried out the threat.

That was the moment when Fry decided he liked Miss Owlswick a lot.

Which made it harder when he got into trouble.

***

"Why did Fry kick off today?" Dad asks, when Miss Owlswick catches him at the end of the day to tell him.

"I gave him a note to take home because he keeps taking his shoes off in class when he's been told not to." Miss Owlswick says. "And he had a meltdown."

Dad grimaces. Fry hasn't ever yet had the dreaded 'note to take home'. Most of his teachers have either gone soft on him or talked to Dad directly.

"Oh yeah, he wouldn't like that. Did he say why he was taking his shoes off?"

"No, and I did ask him." the teacher says. "He only said Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald used to let him."

"Okay, well if Mr Mags used to let him, that may be why he's doing it." Dad says. "But he started doing it one other time because his shoes were too tight. I'll find out whether he needs new shoes."

"I asked him that, and he said no." Miss Owlswick says.

"He would." Dad says. "Because if he admits they're tight he'll have to have new shoes, and he doesn't like new shoes. Remember I told you that he won't tell you if he's in pain because he's afraid of ice?"

"I felt he had to have a note the same as any other child." Miss Owlswick says, hesitantly, fearing that Dad is about to tell her off.

"And I support you giving him the note if that's what you felt you needed to do." Dad says, to her surprise.

A few minutes later, with a little encouragement, Miss Owlswick goes back to the fish tank where Fry is calming down.

"Alexander."

Fry glances around.

"If your shoes are too tight, you must tell your father so he can get you new shoes. If they are not too tight, you must do as you are told in class. You could hurt your feet if you walk around the class with no shoes off."

"Mr Mags did." Fry says.

"Miss Havisham and Mr Irons did not let you take off your shoes in their class. I do not allow it in mine." Miss Owlswick says. "Are your shoes too tight?"

"No." Fry says.

"Then you must wear them." Miss Owlswick says, but not unkindly. "You are a big boy of nine, Fry. Next year you will be in the top juniors. You must learn good habits now." She hands him back the note. "Take the note to your father, wear your shoes, and we'll say no more about it."

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2017-10-13T20:58:00

2017-10-13T22:16:49Z

After being shouted at for fifteen minutes by Ben's mother, Mrs Patel sends Ben and his mother to wait in the secretary's office, and calls in Fry.

As Fry enters, Coral comes in with him.

"We don't need you, thank you, Coral." Mrs Patel says.

"I'd like to stay please. Mum isn't here yet, so I'm his avocado." Coral says politely.

Mrs Patel just about keeps a straight face. "Advocate, I think you mean. That's fine. Fry, Ben and his mother have been in with some very serious allegations that you have been bullying Ben. I am going to ask you whether each thing they have accused you of is true, and then we will deal with the matter, all right?"

Fry nods.

"Did you punch Ben in the face on his first day?"

"Yes." Fry says, surprised that Mr Mags hasn't already reported that to her.

"Why?"

"Because he stuck a wet finger in my ear, and he scared me. I didn't mean to punch him, and I said sorry after. Mr Mags, I mean, Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald, said that was okay."

"Did you on the same day threaten to break Ben's arm?"

Fry has to think about this one. "No. I said it was lucky I didn't, when he startled me, but I meant it was lucky I didn't do it by accident."

"I see. The way you said that sounds like a threat. Did you glue Ben's desk shut?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he kept banging it to make me and Joram jump and Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald told me I should stand up for myself. I didn't think it would stick so well. I confessed but lots of the others took the blame with me."

"So you knew that was the wrong thing to do. Did you and your friends read Ben's diary?"

"No." Fry says. "Tommy looked in the desk to see what he was hiding, but we didn't read it."

"Would you have read it, if Ben hadn't caught you?"

"No. Well, I wouldn't, I don't know about the others."

"On that day, did you threaten to break Ben's teeth?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he called me lots of names in the toilet and wouldn't let me out and kept making the driers go off and it hurt."

"Did you mean it?"

"Yes. They were only baby teeth."

"I understand why you were upset." Mrs Patel says. "But you can't do that."

Fry nods.

"This afternoon, did you push Ben to the floor?"

"No. I took him down in a controlled way that I knew would not hurt him."

"Why did you do that?"

"He scared Joram with a loud bang and laughed at him. I think that's a horrible thing to do to a refugee. I took Ben down to scare him but not hurt him."

"But Fry, Joram hasn't told the other children he's a refugee, has he?" Mrs Patel asks. "So how could Ben have known that?"

Fry hesitates for a moment. Oh. Yes. Good point.

"It's still mean." he says.

"Yes, but it would be less mean if it was just a joke, than if it was meant to scare a victim of war, wouldn't it?" Mrs Patel says.

"I understand." Fry says, after a momentary glance at Coral.

"Did you make a hole in Ben's jumper."

"No." Fry says. "It already had a little hole. I didn't make it bigger."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Last question. Did Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald see you fight Ben this afternoon and not punish you?"

"Yes." Fry says.

"Thank you Fry." Mrs Patel says. "I will take it from here. You must not threaten, hurt, or 'take down' other children unless it is truly in self-defence; for example, someone is trying to hit you right now and you need to block them. If you had broken Ben's arm or his teeth I would have suspended you, even if it was provoked. You are a big boy now, Fry, and you must learn to use non-violent and non-destructive methods to solve conflict."

She sighs. "I do not think this situation is entirely your fault, though. Did Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald give you any guidance on how to stand up for yourself?"

"Not really." Fry says.

"Perhaps you can work on that with Mr Irons." Mrs Patel says. "Can you and Coral wait outside while I speak to Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald, please?"

Fry and Coral go out into the secretary's room and sit the opposite side to Ben and his mother. Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald shoots both culprits a glance before going inside.

"Magnus, this is the third complaint I've had today." Mrs Patel says. "The first being Bethany Sharpe being in here in floods of tears with her mum because you apparently allowed one of the other children to bribe their way to being class president. The second was Anna's mother complaining that you compared her daughter to the Phantom of the Opera."

"Objection: I said to Anna's mother that Anna shouldn't have to cover her scar because she wasn't the Phantom of the Opera, and I apologised when she took offence." Mr Mags says. "It was far less offensive than what her mother said about her losing the election because of the birthmark."

"Still not appropriate. And now it appears that there's been a lot of other things happening in your class that I wasn't made aware of."

"Let's be fair." Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald says. "Every kid in my class learned this week that bribery is a feeble way to win an election."

"You can't allow the children to beat each other up, emotionally or physically." Mrs Patel says. "This is a school, not Lord of the Flies. Ben's mother has made a serious allegation that Fry is persistently bullying Ben, and there is some degree of substance to that claim."

Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald snorts.

"Fry is no bully, and his behaviour is fine. His only issue in this matter is that he doesn't know how to stand up for himself. Ben on the other hand is a jealous, lying, bullying little snot who picks on vulnerable kids because it makes him feel like a big man."

Rather unfortunately for Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald, Ben's mother happens to be near enough to the door to be eavesdropping, and on hearing this speech, bursts into the office and starts screeching again.

"Look." Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald says after a minute of this. "I could have hauled Ben in weeks ago for all the rubbish he's put kids in this class through. It's not just Fry, he goes for other kids - a girl who's a bit overweight, a lad who doesn't speak much English, and a girl with a birthmark. Maybe I wanted to give him a chance to realise he was making a bad start for himself rather than labelling him a bully?"

"I think you just couldn't be bothered to intervene." Ben's mum retorts.

After a very tense half hour, Mrs Patel eventually calms Ben's mum down, calls the children back in, and suggests that Ben and Fry both shake hands and write one another a letter of apology. Both the boys, suspecting now that they have got their teacher into trouble, meekly comply. At this point, Mum catches up with Fry and Coral, and Mrs Patel decides to send them all home before Fran can turn lioness too.

She motions to Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald to stay behind, and once the parents have gone, closes the door.

"Magnus, I believe there is some method in your madness. I agree that sometimes the children need to learn to solve their own problems. However, I don't feel that you supervised their efforts to do so nearly enough on this occasion. That I could have worked with."

She turns to him. "But I will not have you calling the children names like that, let alone in earshot of the parents, and for that reason I am suspending you while I conduct a full enquiry. Since it's half term, that will give me time to establish the full facts."

"You'll have my resignation in writing by tomorrow morning." Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald says.

"That may not be necessary." Mrs Patel adds, hastily. "It will need to be brought before the governors but you are likely to get off with a written warning."

Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald shakes his head.

"Conduct your enquiry, take whatever action you need, but I'm still resigning." he says. "I make a better substitute than a long term class teacher. If your investigation leaves you satisfied I will be happy to come back to do supply work if you want me to."

***

A few days later, during half term, Mum calls Fry over to the living room with her and Dad. Mr Mags is on the laptop, skyping them.

"What's going on?" Fry asks, sitting between his parents.

"I want to tell you something important." Mr Mags says. "And I wanted your parents in on it so that I can make sure there's no misunderstanding. When you come back after half term, I will no longer be your teacher."

"Why?" Fry asks.

"Because I said some things in front of some of your classmates' parents that was inappropriate." Mr Mags says. "I wanted you to know that me leaving was in no way your fault because of the business with Ben. Not Ben's fault, either."

Fry has mixed feelings. He'd just started to get used to Mr Mags, and kind of felt that he was at least on his side, but it's been a difficult half term.

"Thank you for your teaching." he says, after a moment. "It's not going to be Mr Morton, is it?"

"No, I made sure of that when I discussed how long I would stay." Mr Mags says. "Or I would have carried on as a substitute for a few weeks. Your new teacher will be called Ms Owlswick."

"They found a replacement so quickly?" Dad asks.

"Ms Owlswick is a teaching student who was looking for a placement transfer." Mr Mags says. "I've met with her and she is very capable." He looks back at Fry. "Now listen, little dude, because I have one more bit of advice for you. I might not have advised you very well on how to stand up for yourself, you needed more help with that than I knew to give you, but I don't want you to stop standing up for yourself, all right? Mr Irons will help you learn now. Otherwise, you will be bullied all your life, and you do not deserve that."

Fry nods.

"Thanks sir."

And with that, they part ways. Fry looks at his parents.

"Are you disappointed with me?"

"No!" Mum says. "Fry, Mr Mags may have been your teacher only briefly but he does have a point. But it's okay to ask advice as to how to tackle these things, okay?"

"And it's definitely not my fault he's going?"

"No." Dad says. "Mr Mags had to be the adult here, and he didn't do that. It's not your fault, Fry."

Fry looks back at the blank screen. He wonders whether the rest of the class will be so sure about that.

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2017-10-08T17:47:00

2017-10-08T17:24:35Z

After the desk incident, Ben appears to back off Fry a little bit. For one thing, the desk no longer bangs when he shuts it, on account of the fact that it's still caked with glue. For another, given that each table now gets Points for quietness, Ben finds he's under pressure from his own table not to keep losing them points.

But as the weeks pass, his original reason for discontent returns, in the form of his jealousy of JJ.

JJ started the same day as him, and for a glorious few moments, Ben was the centre of attention, being new and American and reasonably cool. But moments later that was snatched away by the arrival of JJ, who was also new and cool but also happened to be the son of a Holby City Footballer, which meant he could bribe anyone with free tickets that he wanted.

At the end of the first week, JJ was already in the running for class president, largely as a result of said bribery. Ben, who hadn't been nominated, had felt particularly cross. It was bad enough having to move away from all his friends and be in a weird foreign country where all the rules were different and the candy tasted wrong and he was stuck in a stuffy private school - though he would have liked Mr Mags had Mr Mags not poorly disguised the fact that he found him so irritating. And when he was upset, he poured his annoyance into his diary, and took it out on anyone he thought was an easy target.

Mr Mags spoke a few words to the class before the election, saying that the purpose was to pick someone who would be a good leader. In the running were Zack, JJ, Bethany and Anna. Fry had wanted to nominate one of his friends, but Teddy didn't want the job, Joram felt he was too new, Noah and Tommy had both had turns last year and said it was someone else's turn, and Kasha said the whole election campaign had got very silly. He didn't ask Pixie, for which she was very grateful.

As he listens to the one minute speech of each candidate, Fry considers his vote with great care. On one hand, Zack can still be a bit obnoxious, but out of the four he's the one who has worked most to try and be president. JJ is out of the question - Fry isn't remotely interested in football. Bethany, he has never got on with, though there's no doubt that she can order people around. Which leaves Anna, who Fry quite likes, although she's not in his immediate group of friends. Anna has a birthmark on her face, and battled the whole of last year with her mother about whether or not she had to cover it. This year, judging by the presence of the birthmark, Anna has won said battle.

In the end he votes for Anna. The results come out very close, and JJ wins with only six votes.

There is a rumbling of discontent among other members of the class who feel that bribing a mere six of their classmates is a rubbish way to win an election, with only just over a quarter of the votes. When Tommy, an ardent Holby United supporter who couldn't give a stuff about Holby City, brings it up with Mr Mags, the teacher only laughs.

"Welcome to politics, kid."

JJ shows off in the playground. Ben, who still wishes he could have run for president, turns his attention back to Fry and his friends.

It hasn't escaped Ben's notice that Fry isn't the only one of his group who jumps at loud noises, Joram does too, and Joram was apparently involved in the desk gluing incident. So one afternoon, just before the end of lunch, Ben constructs an origami paper banger, then waits quietly behind the classroom door.

When the class file in, he waits for Joram, then jumps out and bangs the paper loudly. He then laughs when Joram dives for cover under the nearest table.

Ben had no idea that Joram is a refugee, or that he escaped from a war, because Joram hasn't told the others, and has asked Fry to do the same. If he had, he might not have done it. As it is, Fry, observing the whole thing, grabs Joram's outstretched arm and very neatly puts him on the floor without hitting or hurting him, just quick enough to give him a scare.

"Apologise." he growls. "Now."

"I'm sorry." Ben says, looking actually frightened. "It was just a joke."

"All right, break it up, you two." Mr Mags says, casually, entering the room. Fry lets Ben go, and tells Mr Mags why he pinned him. Mr Mags makes a disgusted noise.

"Right, you stop being a pain." he points at Ben. "You stop being a ninja." he points at Fry.

This does not satisfy Ben. Why isn't Fry getting punished for 'violently pushing him onto the floor'? And in front of a teacher too!

As he quietly seethes, he notices a little hole in his jumper sleeve, around his thumb. It's been there for a while, because he tends to fiddle with it. Just before the end of school, he has an idea, goes to the bathroom, and pulls at the hole as hard as he can, making a much bigger hole in the sleeve, before going out to find his mother.

Fry is just gathering up his siblings when he hears an angry American voice.

"THAT BOY AGAIN? I'M NOT STANDING FOR THIS. YOU TELL ME WHICH ONE HE IS RIGHT NOW!"

Fry looks around. Ben is pointing at him.

"What did you do?" Brooke asks Fry.

"I think I'm about to find out." Fry replies.

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2017-09-23T22:06:00

2017-09-23T22:20:04Z

When he glued Ben's desk lid with PVA glue, Fry hadn't expected the effect to be that dramatic. It was just PVA, after all, which isn't exactly the stickiest glue he's ever done revenging with.*

Later, on reflection, he would realise the reason the desk stuck so well was because he sealed all the tiny gaps. He is however rather surprised the next morning when not only can Ben not open the desk, but Mr Mags can't prise it open either.

This was not exactly what he had in mind.

Fry bites his lip slightly as the rest of his class laughs at Ben's predicament. He'd thought the desk would stick for maybe a minute, and with a bit of luck, not make quite such a bang if he started dropping the lid again. But after five minutes, Mr Mags still hasn't got it open.

"Right, you'll just have to borrow stuff this morning until we find some tools." Mr Mags says, eventually.

"You will be able to open it, won't you?" Ben asks, looking slightly more upset than Fry had hoped for. "It's got... stuff of mine."

"Oh yeah, don't worry." Mr Mags says. "Just borrow these for now and we'll stick the pages in later."

He walks to the front of the class and turns around.

"Stop laughing." he says, in a low voice.

Somehow, Mr Mags' low voice is way more scary than any yelling. Everyone is quiet at once.

"I like a practical joke as much as the next person, but when it interferes with someone's schoolwork, or causes someone to be upset, that's a joke gone too far." he says. "I believe that that perhaps wasn't the intention of the prankster. I'd like them to own up; if they can't do it in front of the class, they can come and see me at the end of the morning."

Fry swallows hard, and stands up.

"I did it."

Before Mr Mags can respond, Joram stands up, across the table from him.

"Sir, I did it."

"No, I did it." Teddy says, standing up next to Joram.

"I was in it too." Noah says, getting to his feet.

Fry stares at them in confusion. Did they come in afterwards and apply their own glue? Then Kasha, who wasn't even there yesterday because she had a cold, stands up and says she did it. Even Pixie, who is usually too shy to speak in front of the class, makes a confession. And then Tommy stands up.

"I glued the desk, and so did my wife!"

Mr Mags, who is having difficulty not dissolving into laughter, waves at everyone to sit down.

"Okay, okay, I think that's enough confessions. You can all stay in at break and sharpen the pencils in the pencil box." He glances at Fry. "And if there's no more of this sort of thing, we'll say no more about it."

At break time he goes to find the school handyman to get the desk open, leaving Fry and his friends sharpening the pencils.

"I don't understand." Fry says, when Mr Mags has gone. "Why did you all take the blame with me?"

"Because we're your friends." Teddy says. "Ben's been a jerk to you, and we're on your side."

"I did also not like the big bang." Joram says.

They watch with interest when the handyman comes back to unstick the desk, which doesn't take terribly wrong. Then Tommy gets up and peeps in the newly freed desk.

"Tommy, you can't go in someone's desk!" Kasha says.

"I just wanted to see what Ben was in such a paddy about." Tommy says, pulling out a big leatherbound book. "Ooh, a secret diary!"

"Put it back, Tom." Teddy says. Tommy rolls his eyes and puts it back without opening it, but unfortunately Ben comes into the classroom at that moment and sees him.

"What are you doing?" Ben demands.

"I didn't read it." Tommy says, hurriedly. Ben goes to his desk, snatches the diary, and heads back out of the classroom.

Fry, still feeling uncomfortable about the whole thing, goes to the bathroom before the start of class. Unfortunately, just as he's washing his hands, Ben comes out of another cubicle, still holding his book. The two boys stop in their tracks.

"I know it was just you, really." Ben says. "So does Mr Mags, just you're his little pet and he didn't punish you properly."

Fry dries his hands with a tissue. Ben puts his hands under the drier, which makes a loud noise. Fry stops and puts his hands over his ears. Ben, watching him, sticks his other hand under the other drier, so they're both on. Fry tries to leave, but Ben blocks his path.

"Do not mess with me." Fry says, suddenly, ferociously. "Or you will regret it, Ben. What's your stupid problem anyway?"

"What's my problem? I hate you!" Ben says. "You act like you're four years old. You're pathetic, and you're a tattle tale. Everyone laughs at you, and you deserve it! Even your 'friends' only back you up because they think you're retarded."

Fry just restrains himself from headbutting Ben.

"Don't use that word. You know, I miss Bradley. He was an asshole too, but at least he challenged me intellectually."

"Are you calling me retarded?" Ben asks, getting up in his face. "You're the one that's retarded."

"No, just Bradley was smarter than you." Fry says. "Now get out of my way or prepare for a visit from the tooth fairy tonight."

Ben, who has learned about Fry's level of combat training the hard way, gets out of his way, still clutching his book. Fry goes to stand at the fish tank to calm himself down. Little snot! At least he got the last word.

He knows Mr Mags will help him if he asks. But part of him knows that Mr Mags was right - he is always going to have quarrels with other kids and he is at some point going to have to learn to deal with it himself.

He doesn't notice Ben return to the class behind him with slightly red eyes. And if he had noticed, he wouldn't have known what to make of it.

[*Fry's reputation for sticking things together with superglue was well known at the school, to the extent that a memo had at one point been sent to all staff forbidding anyone to leave the stuff anywhere kids could reach it.]

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2017-09-18T20:50:00

2017-09-18T20:35:56Z

After Fry's little escapade onto the roof to escape the classroom noise, Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald went first to grovel to the head, and then consulted Mr Irons for some more guidance.

"I understand what you're trying to do." Mr Irons said. "You want the kids to learn to make their own rules, so that they think and challenge why we do things a certain way. But you can't let them go all Lord of the Flies when you have special needs kids involved. Kids like Fry, and Bethany, they need rules and stability, and they need you to be the adult."

"Bethany's loving it." Mr Mags said.

"She might be loving it now, but if you don't keep her in line she'll struggle to adjust to Mrs Patel's class next year." Mr Irons said. "She might not have a formal diagnosis of ADHD but I can tell you, that little girl needs teaching correctly first time."

"I've got a plan." Mr Mags said. "I'll let you know if it doesn't work."

***

The next day he calls Fry into the classroom before the start of classes. Fry comes in, a little wary, wondering if he's going to get told off.

"Right." Mr Mags says. "Firstly. You don't go climbing any more ladders or buildings in this school, unless we tell you to, okay?"

Fry nods.

"Secondly, sit in your seat for a moment." Mr Mags says.

Fry sits in his seat. He's moved away so that he's out of reach of Ben, but he doesn't want to change tables, so Ben is still pretty close. To his surprise, Mr Mags measures a distance from him, gets out his phone and plays what seems to be some sort of background noise.

"Tell me when this gets too loud." he says, gradually turning it up.

"Now." Fry says.

Mr Mags walks around the other side of the table, measures again, and repeats it. Then he goes over to where Ben sits and repeats it again.

"What is that?" Fry asks, as Mr Mags goes over to the smart board. A collection of little speedometer-like things has appeared at the right hand side.

"Make a noise for me." Mr Mags says.

Fry hesitates, then starts singing a song they're doing in music. He notices the needles on the little dials go up.

"You know how we have attention points?" Mr Mags says. "Which I award to you lot for various things? Every table that keeps the dial under the red line for five minutes gets a point."

Attention points are a bit like credits. Fry doesn't like them as much, because the rules for getting them seem to be more random. But you do get prizes, like sparkly pencils, and this could certainly be useful to him. And he likes the way that your points flash up next to your mini-me on the class screen.

"How does it know which table is making the noise?" he asks.

"Because the detectors are on the ceiling, the same distance from the centre of each table." Mr Mags says. "It doesn't record what you're saying, just the volume. In fact, the software can even tell if the noise is coming from a different table, so you won't lose your points if the next table made the noise over the line."

"That's clever." Fry says.

"Thanks." Mr Mags says. "Now, let's see how long it takes your classmates to figure out how it works."

"You're not going to tell them?" Fry asks.

"Nah. Be patient. By the end of the morning, they'll be quiet as mice." Mr Mags says. "Including Ben."

Fry is doubtful about this. But to his surprise, his classmates spot the dials pretty quickly, and set about trying to work out what they are.

"Hey, table two just got attention points for not doing anything!"

"Our needle went over the line when you yelled that!"

"Say something again, see what happens..."

By the end of the morning, sure enough, everyone is being really quiet.

***

It doesn't last quite as Fry hoped. Within a couple of days, Ben quickly realises that if his table do go over the meter, that this is the perfect opportunity to make another loud noise, which he decides to do by dropping his desk lid with a BANG. After the third time he does this, seeing not just Fry jump but Joram also, Mr Mags intervenes.

"Whoever's doing that, knock it off."

"Sorry sir, my hand slipped." Ben says.

At the end of the class, Mr Mags calls Fry over again when the others go out for break.

"Mr Mags?" Fry asks, when the others have gone out. "Why do you pretend you keep forgetting everyone's name? I know you know who Ben is."

Mr Mags grins at him.

"You ever pick your nose when nobody is looking?"

Fry blinks. "Yes."

"People don't act the same when they think they're invisible. It shows you who they truly are." Mr Mags says. "Well, most people anyway, you're an exception."

He puts his feet on the table. Fry moves slightly away from them. He doesn't like Mr Mags' horrible hairy feet. Why can't the man wear shoes like everyone else?

"Fry, did Mr Irons ever tell you that whole 'Everyone has a story' thing?"

"Yes." Fry says.

"Want to know the next line?"

Fry nods.

"Everyone has a story." Mr Mags says. "But that doesn't give them the right to pick on you." He puts his feet down and leans forward. "Let me tell you something, Fry. In this world, some people are going to be mean to you. When you hit secondary school, you'll probably have a dozen Bens in your life. They will pick on you for being different. And that's NOT okay. And you are going to have to learn how to handle it."

Fry isn't sure what to say to that. Mr Mags continues.

"Some people have problems and act like jerks. Some people just are jerks. You need to learn how to handle either because Fry, in a few years time, you will not be able to run to a teacher without getting a rep as a tattle tale. Now that said, if you want an adult to step in here, now, you just say the word. You can come talk to me about anything. But I also want to arm you with skills to deal with things that are unreasonable and unexpected. Do you understand?"

Fry nods.

"So tell me." Mr Mags says. "Ben calls you a baby. What could you do?"

Fry considers this.

"I could ask him to stop."

"Good. What if that doesn't work?"

"I could ignore him." Fry says.

"Right. You could go off to find a friend."

"I could say something back."

"Yes. Though that might make things worse." Mr Mags says. "Because then it becomes an argument. So if you're going to do that, at least try and make it clever and amusing. And if anyone asks, you didn't get that advice from me. If you let Ben get under your skin, he'll see and keep doing it." He picks up his bag of marking. "I don't think Ben is going to do anything really foul to you, so why don't you have a go at fixing it yourself first, and then give me a shout if it doesn't work?"

Fry considers this advice over the course of the rest of the day. Ben lets his desk lid drop another couple of times. Hm. How does he reply to that? Asking him to stop and ignoring him hasn't worked, but what do you say back to that? It's not a word, it's just a noise.

Just at the end of school, as he's packing up his things to go, he suddenly gets an idea. He pretends to need the bathroom, and when he gets back to the classroom everyone else has gone. He goes to the craft drawer and pulls out a big tub of PVA glue, opens Ben's desk, and thoroughly coats the underside of the lid with the glue around where it sits on the bottom half of the desk. Then he carefully puts the lid down, making a rather satisfying 'squish' noise, grabs a paintbrush, and seals any gaps with glue.

He washes the brush, quickly replaces the glue, and runs out to the playground before anyone can catch him.

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2017-09-11T22:50:00

2017-09-11T23:46:59Z

The most important thing to do, when trapped on the roof of your school, is not to panic.

Fry digs into his inside pocket and consults his book of rules and guidelines, which do not cover this specific scenario. They suggest that in an emergency he calls Mum or Dad or 999. However, Fry at this moment in time would rather none of those people know that he's on the roof. It would be better to get off the roof.

He lies down flat and crawls over to the nearest edge. The school has a ground floor and a first floor, so it's too tall to just jump off, and he knows that. But maybe there's a fire escape or something. He looks around; but the fire escape is not something he can easily drop down onto either.

He gets out his phone. He wishes he'd actually asked some of his classmates for their number. They're all filing into the dining hall now for lunch break, and because he only left fifteen minutes before the end of the class, he suspects that people might assume he's gone straight to lunch.

And then he realises it's worse than that. Sometimes he takes his lunch and eats it in the kitchen on his own, because the dining hall is too noisy. So his friends might not notice he's gone right away.

Maybe he can climb back down the way he came up. He crawls back over to the miniature door he climbed out of, and tries the handle. But it doesn't turn. Hm. Maybe it's burglar-proof. Then he realises it's not a real door, so much as a vent, and you're probably not supposed to actually go through it.

He's starting to panic a little bit now. He wants his lunch, and it's colder up here than he expected.

***

It's not until the end of lunch break, when everyone returns to class, that Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald notices that Fry is missing. He frowns slightly, then begins to make some enquiries.

"Anyone seen Fry?"

Noah puts his hand up. "Mr Mags, I last saw him when he went to calm down at the end of the last lesson."

"All right, and he goes to the fish tank?" Mr Mags asks.

"Usually." Teddy says. "Or he goes to the bathroom and watches the tap run."

Ben sniggers from the table behind. Teddy and Noah shoot him a glare.

"It's not normal for Fry not to come back at the start of the next class." Kasha says. "Fry follows timetables very strictly."

"He'll have gone somewhere quiet." Tommy says.

"I didn't see him at lunch."

"I don't remember seeing him in the playground."

Mr Mags tells them to get out their reading books and read, then goes across the corridor to Mr Irons' room.

Back in the classroom, there is a lot of noise. Ben, Jamal and Zack are making sarcastic remarks about Fry's absence. Suddenly, Teddy stands up.

"SHAME ON YOU!" he yells at Ben's table. Everyone goes quiet. Teddy glares at the whole class. "Shame on all of you! Fry has been in this class since he was four years old, he's one of us. You all knew you were being too noisy, you knew it was upsetting him, and you all carried on! Even the new kids knew, and if they didn't, we should have stopped them."

"It wasn't a rule." Ben says.

Teddy goes over to the rules board and writes 'Don't be noisy' on it.

"Now it is. And now we have to find Fry. So you lot start looking in cupboards, and me and Noah'll go down the corridor."

Teddy goes off down the corridor with Noah, looking in cupboards. Joram gets up and follows them.

"Watch." Joram says, after a minute.

"Watch what?" Noah asks.

Joram points to his wrist.

"Oh yes!" Teddy says. "Fry wears a watch with a tracker on it."

***

In the other corridor, Mr Irons and Mr Mags have come to the same conclusion. Since Mr Irons has been Fry's special education teacher for a few years, Mum and Dad have installed the app that tracks Fry on his phone, in case of emergencies.

"It appears he's still in the building." Mr Irons says. "Unless he's taken the watch off."

"How accurate is this?" Mr Mags asks.

"In good GPS conditions, it'll track him to the nearest metre."

"So he's right here. Or on the floor above." Mr Mags says.

They look in the cupboards, then go up to the first floor and look there. No sign of him.

"What's this thing here?" Mr Mags asks, knocking on part of the wall that sticks out towards them.

"Vent." Mr Irons says. "There's no opening on this floor."

"Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald!" Teddy comes running up. "We've found Fry."

"Oh well done, where is he?" Mr Mags asks.

"On the roof." Noah says. "We looked for him behind the school and he peeped over and waved."

"Noah, please go and get the head." Mr Irons says, as he and Mr Mags rush out back and climb up the fire escape. "Fry, do not move, we're coming to get you."

Fry peeps over.

"I didn't mean to get up here." He says.

"Don't worry about that." Mr Mags says, taking his shoes off and shimmying up the drainpipe.

"Magnus, wait for the fire brigade!" Mr Irons hisses. Then, on second thoughts, tries to climb up after him.

"Whoops, careful." Mr Mags says, reaching down from the top of the roof to help Mr Irons get on. "Why are you coming up?"

"I was worried you might startle him." Mr Irons says. "Are you okay, Fry?"

"I'm in a lot of trouble, aren't I?" Fry says, shivering.

Mr Irons takes off his jacket and puts it round him.

"I think we'll decide if you're in trouble when we're all safely on the ground." he says.

"Fry, why did you take off?" Mr Mags asks.

"Because you said I could leave the class at any time if I needed a time out." Fry says. "And I couldn't go to the fish tank so I looked for a quiet place, and then I climbed the ladder into the vent and I got stuck."

"Did you know it was wrong to climb into vents?" Mr Irons asks.

"I never heard a rule about it." Fry says.

"Okay. You must not climb into vents." Mr Irons says.

Mr Mags stares at him. "Isn't that sort of obvious?"

"No, Magnus, it's not obvious to him." Mr Irons says. "I know you like the kids to make their own rules in your class, but Fry needs more structure than that. And if the whole class votes to be noisy, he can't just accept that, any more than if the whole class voted to eat peanuts but one person had an allergy."

Mr Mags nods.

"Hey, I'm sorry man." he says to Fry. "I'll give your classmates more help with the rule-making, okay?" He smiles slightly. "Well, assuming I'm not fired."

"You might get fired?" Fry asks, watching as the fire engine comes up the road towards the school.

"Maybe. Hopefully not." Mr Mags says. "There's so much I want to teach you guys. But don't worry, man, I'm a substitute teacher by trade, even if I do get fired I'll be okay."

Fry looks at Mr Irons as Mr Mags gets up to direct the crane.

"He won't really get fired will he?"

"I don't think so." Mr Irons reassures him. "But you gave us a scare, so please tell him where you're going next time."

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2017-09-09T20:54:00

2017-09-09T22:05:41Z

Life in Mr Mags' classroom isn't all bad. In the first few days, they do vote on some actual classroom rules, and they decide the timetable together. Of course, they have to do things like maths and English, but their new teacher also schedules in ten minutes of yoga first thing in the morning, and some wooly-sort of things like 'Question Box', where he answers questions that you put in the box.

A few times a week, they work on their pretend country, Fortland, which as far as Fry can work out covers bits of history, geography, maths, art and nature. Fortland is growing on Fry, though he wishes Mr Mags could just decide all the rules himself. It is quite interesting, though, hearing about all the weird places Mr Mags has been to and all the different ways a country can be. And sometimes Mr Mags asks them interesting questions to get them thinking.

"So, what national language or languages should Fortland have?" he asks, one day. And there is a bit of a stunned silence for a moment, before Tommy pipes up.

"Well, English of course."

"Why?" Mr Mags asks.

"Well, because most of us speak it." Tommy says.

"How do you know most of you don't speak another language too?" Mr Mags asks. "I mean, like, if it suddenly turned out that three quarters of you spoke something else, wouldn't it be a cool thing to learn, so you could have secret messages other countries couldn't understand? Who here knows another language?"

Fry puts his hand up for Punjabi. Joram speaks Arabic, Kasha speaks Polish, and by the time Mr Mags has gone around the class, they find a handful of other languages. Pixie speaks Welsh, but keeps her mouth shut because she's not used to all the new people yet.

"But English is the most common language in the world." JJ says. Despite being new, he's not shy of saying anything.

"It's not actually, there are more speakers of Mandarin Chinese." Mr Mags says.

They have a vote, and decide to make English the official language, but decide to make everyone who speaks a second language an 'Official Translator of Fortland'.

Mr Mags seems happy with his work too, having high praise for Fry's bean project (though he wasn't the winner, as Pixie beat him by three points). Unlike Miss Havisham, Mr Mags loves technology, and uses the smartboard and devices for almost everything. To the class's delight, the main screen of his smart board is a model of their classroom, with little cartoon figures of each of them. Clicking on your miniature figure will bring up your scores in his various games, such as the maths and spelling apps he writes himself.

Nobody had ever completed the maths game until Fry was let loose on it; he beat every level in fourteen minutes. The next day, Mr Mags had created another ten levels. Fry likes that.

There's really just one thing Fry can't stand in the classroom, and that's the noise.

One of the new kids, Ben, is particularly loud - and also after their fight on the first day particularly keen to wind Fry up. Mr Mags doesn't appear to immediately notice, but after a few days suggests that one of them might like to move. Fry isn't big on moving, so he swaps only with Noah in the next seat.

"Ignore him, he's being a git." Teddy urges Fry the next day from his other side. "He's just annoyed because he's jealous of JJ."

"Jealous?" Fry asks.

"Yeah. When Ben arrived at the start of the week, he was the centre of attention as the cool new kid for all of five minutes. Then a moment later, JJ turns up, people recognise his famous father the footballer, and Ben's moment of fame is over." Teddy says, in a hushed tone. "You can tell by the way he looks at JJ."

Fry glances over at JJ, who is surrounded by all the kids he would consider to be fairly popular, aside from Tommy, who is a lifelong Holby United fan and wouldn't go to a Holby City FC match if you paid him. Still, Fry is indifferent to JJ for now, whereas Ben is thoroughly irritating.

"What's that got to do with me?" he asks Teddy.

"He can't take it out on JJ, so he's taking it out on you." Teddy says.

"That's stupid." Fry says.

"Yes. Just ignore him." Teddy says.

Fry tries. But even when Ben is not being so noisy, he still finds ways to wind Fry up. His favourite one morning being to go 'Shh, don't disturb the baby', which is earning him some giggles on his table behind Fry's. Fry eventually gets fed up with this same joke after the fourth time, and fifteen minutes before the end of the class excuses himself to have a time out. Mr Mags lets him do that, as he needs.

But there's a group lesson going on in the resources room, where the fish tank is, so he can't stay in there. Instead, he wanders into the corridor, looking for somewhere to get away from the racket. And that's when he notices something unusual.

There's a stepladder, leading up to a hole in the ceiling. A trap door that Fry has never noticed before. At the end of the corridor, a handyman is just going into the toilet, and the ladder is therefore quite, quite unattended.

He steps forward, climbs up the ladder, and disappears into the hole. It's nice and quiet up there. He steps forward and goes further into the attic. It's not a very big space, and not quite as exciting as he anticipated, but there is a fan to look at, and he watches that spinning around for a bit until he feels better.

And then, suddenly, there is a bang, and a click, behind him, and it goes pitch black.

Uh oh.

He gets his phone out and uses it as a torch. Where was that trap door again?

He hears the bell go for break. He can't climb down the trap door now, even if he finds it. He'll be seen. He starts checking if there's any other way out, climbing through and around a few things and suddenly he finds a very little door in the wall. He tries the handle, and it opens to bright sunlight. He crawls through the hole and looks around.

It's the flat roof of the school.

Okay. No need to panic, all he needs to do is figure out a way to get down without being seen...

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2017-08-31T21:45:00

2017-08-31T21:55:41Z

It's a relief to be going back to school, even if Fry is worried about going into a new, potentially chaotic class with a weird teacher.

Mum and Dad have tried to get him to 'get to know' Rowan and Hazel, the new neighbourkids during his last few weeks of the holidays. He might have stood more of a chance with their older brother Flint, who is a much quieter lad keen on gardening and the outdoors, but Flint must be at least fourteen and just isn't interested in getting to know Fry.

Things with Rowan started to go downhill within the first week. Fry was out in the garden, watering his flowers, when he heard Rowan arguing with his mum next door.

"No, I'm not going to go and play with him!" Rowan complained. "He's a big sissy wimp and he's boring, boring, boring!"

Fry glared through the fence. Just because he hadn't wanted to go over the back fence (where there are dangerous holes you can fall in), and because he didn't like it when Rowan laughed at his new phone (and said he was going to wee himself it was so funny) and just because he didn't think it was funny when Hazel soaked him with the hose while he was gardening. It wasn't funny. He got wet.

He's relieved that Rowan isn't going to his school. At least the only new person he's expecting there is Joram, who isn't new to Fry, at least.

He meets Joram at the school gates when Dad drops him off. Joram's aunt waves him goodbye, and Joram stops Fry for a moment.

"Fry? Can I ask a present?"

Fry stops. "A present?"

"No, I mean... to do something for me."

"A favour." Fry says. "Sure."

"If the other children ask, please do not tell them I am from Syria." Joram says.

"Why?" Fry asks.

"At my old school, when they hear I am from Syria, some call me a terrorist." Joram says. "Or they ask many question about the war. I do not want to talk about war, about being a refugee. You understand me?"

Fry nods. Mum had said that Joram might not want to talk about the war. "Where do I say you're from if they ask?"

"Saudi Arabia." Joram says. "Because they speak the same language there and nobody will have anything to ask about it."

Fry doesn't like to lie. But it's a fairly straightforward lie, so he thinks he can do it for Joram.

When they go into the classroom though, Fry is in for a shock. Joram isn't the only new face; there are two other boys he doesn't recognise. The volume of the classroom hits him like a wall, with everyone talking to the new kids at the tops of their voices.

There shouldn't be any new kids here. For new kids to arrive last minute, it means someone has left. Fry looks rapidly around the room to work out who.

The first person he can't spot is Peter. But then he realises Peter has probably gone up into Year 6. Miss Havisham had said at the end of last term that he might, because he was doing so much better. The second person he can't spot is Bradley, who is usually easy to spot in his wheelchair. And nearby, Tommy suddenly gives an alarmed shriek.

"Guys, I just got a text! It says 'Bradley died last week, his spirit will haunt the classroom for eternity'."

Bethany screams. A couple of other people scream. Fry puts his hands over his ears. Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald, their new teacher, looks startled as he comes into the room.

"Woah, what's all this?" he asks, looking at the now sobbing Tommy.

"Bradley died!" Tommy says, handing the teacher his phone.

Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald reads the message, then takes the phone to the front of the class, puts it on speaker phone and calls Bradley's number.

"Whooooooooooo!" Bradley answers. Bethany screams again.

"Hi Bradley, this is Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald, you're on speakerphone live in Year Five." the teacher says. "I heard you moved schools, that's too bad man. I think you're going to be really missed. You shouldn't pretend to be dead though, that's not cool."

"Aww..." Bradley says. "Fine, I'm not dead. I have to go to class now, see you around, losers."

Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald sends Tommy out to get a tissue, then when Tommy is back takes the register.

"So we have a few new faces." He says at the end. "Joram, Ben and JJ. Bradley as you have gathered just now has moved schools."

Bradley hadn't said anything about leaving, but he'd threatened to 'go to a normal school' as many times as he'd joked that he was going to die. Fry still can't believe that Tommy fell for that. Even he knows dead people don't text.

"We've also lost Peter, who has gone into Year Six, and Georgina has gone to America for a year while her parents take part in a teacher exchange program. Ben has come over from the States with his parents to take George's place this year."

Fry realises suddenly that with Bradley and George gone, that's both his closest rivals out of the picture! He still has Xiao, in Year Six, but she's got entrance exams to work for and probably won't have time to challenge him. Suddenly he feels indignant. How could they leave him without even so much as saying goodbye?

They hand in their 'bean projects' from the summer, where they had to find as many uses as possible for ten bean seeds. Last night at the end of the project, Fry planted all his beans in the garden to grow, rather than wasting them. He hopes he's done enough things to win the prize.

"Right, so, I like to have you guys as much in control of your own learning as possible, in this classroom." Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald says. "And the way we usually do that is to make this classroom like a little country. We'll give it a name and a flag, and you'll all help decide the rules and laws. But first things first: can anyone tell me the difference between a democracy and a dictatorship?"

There is hesitation, and then Joram raises his hand.

"Democracy is where people have the vote."

Fry glances across the table at Joram, marvelling. Last year that kid didn't speak a word of English, and now he's beating Fry to answer difficult vocabulary questions! But then he remembers the war. Maybe voting is something that comes up a lot when your home country is in a war.

"Very good." Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald says. "We're going to run this class as a democracy, that means you get to vote on things rather than me telling you what to do all the time. That said, I'm like the judge, and I will step in if things get out of hand." He holds up a miniature gavel. "So if I bang this on the table listen up."

He shows them the blank sheets covering the notice boards right now. One big board he says is for 'expressing yourself' and that anyone can draw on it, but to try not to draw over other people's stuff. One sheet on the front board he says will be for the class rules, when they decide them together. Then he sets them off designing a flag and thinking of a name for their country.

"We'll vote on the designs at the end." he says. "But try and come up with something that others in your class can replicate later."

As they get started, Joram goes up to the front to ask what 'replicate' means, but try as he might he can't quite pronounce 'Magnesium-Fitzgerald'. After explaining the word, and thinking for a few moments, Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald bangs his gavel.

"Before I forget, if anyone wants to, you can call me 'Mr Mags' in here, just try and use my full name in front of other teachers." He shoots a grin at Ben and JJ. "It's actually less of a mouthful than the name I was born with."

"Then why don't you change your name again to Mr Mags?" JJ asks.

"Because then I'd have to change all my mail and bank cards and stuff." Mr Mags says. He shrugs. "Seemed like a good idea when I did it. Learn from me, kiddos."

The classroom is uncomfortably noisy for Fry, even though he understands the idea of designing a flag. He makes a plain green square and stares at it for a bit.

On the table behind, the two new kids are having a loud discussion. Ben's American accent stands out, not least because Ben is sitting right behind Fry at the table, facing the other way. Ben is speaking extra loudly to compete with JJ who, by the sounds of the conversation, has a father who used to play for Holby City Football Team. Fry isn't remotely interested in this, but the rest of the table behind him apparently are, since JJ is talking about being able to get them free tickets and stuff.

After about twenty minutes, he turns around to Ben.

"Do you have to make so much noise?"

Ben turns and stares at him. Then goes 'oooooh!' and makes a mocking face.

"What's his problem?" He asks Zack, as Fry turns back around.

"Oh, he's not big on noise." Zack says.

After what happens next, it occurs to Zack that this was probably the time to tell Ben 'Oh, by the way, he's autistic and he doesn't like to be touched'. Unfortunately, it doesn't occur to Zack until Ben licks his finger and leans over to give Fry a 'Wet willy'.

He doesn't get far. As Ben's wet finger touches Fry's ear, it startles him. He doesn't even think; five years of martial arts training kicks in. He shrieks, grabs the wrist, twists it, and swings around with a punch which lands hard on Ben's face. And then he clutches his ear and carries on screaming.

Mr Mags descends upon them, looking somewhat bewildered as to what just happened. And then Noah suggests he take Fry to look at the fish tank, which Fry decides is a good idea, and by the time he calms down it's break time.

"Fry, come back in please." Mr Mags says. Fry goes back into the classroom, beginning to worry now he's starting to calm down. He's just hit someone. He's bound to get sent to the head for that. Ben is sitting with a cold pack on his face, and the rest of the class have gone out to break.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Fry says. "He scared me."

"It was just a wet willy, we did them all the time at my last school." Ben says, glaring at him. He looks back at the teacher. "How was I meant to know he's autistic?"

Mr Mags shrugs.

"What rule could we put in place to prevent this happening again?" he asks.

Fry and Ben look at him blankly. Mr Mags continues.

"How about from now on, you keep your hands to yourself?" he says to Ben. "You heard him. He didn't mean to hurt you, you scared him."

Ben looks bewildered.

"He punched me." he protests.

Mr Mags shrugs expansively. "Well I guess accidents happen when you do something in class you're not supposed to do." He gets up to write 'Keep your hands to yourself' on the Rules Board.

"See that it doesn't happen again, either of you, or I'll have to send you to the head, which will be boring and annoying for all of us. You can go out to break now."

Fry and Ben head out to the playground. Ben glares at him.

"Freak." he mutters.

Fry glances back at him.

"I've been doing martial arts since I was four." He says. "You're lucky I didn't accidentally break your arm."

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2017-08-05T15:44:00

2017-08-05T15:52:45Z

"I think maybe you would have a better day if you stop crying." Fry says, helpfully, as he sits on a log with his neighbour Archie, watching the moving van.

Archie is moving. For real this time. He's pretended to move a couple of times, so that he could change schools, the latest being Berry Hill Top where Joram goes. Berry Hill Top is very oversubscribed, so they prioritise the children who live closest. Joram had accidentally let slip one day that Archie didn't live where his parents said he did.

Things had gone downhill rapidly after that.

Archie and his siblings had made life very difficult for Joram. Archie had argued, in a moment of anger, that it was no less fair than Joram getting bumped up the waiting list for being a refugee. By the next day, Archie had come back and apologised to Joram, realising that Joram couldn't have understood the situation and that the comparison he made was unreasonable; but it was too late. Joram had told his uncle, who had gone ballistic.

"I don't want to leave our lovely house." Archie says now, tears running down his cheeks. "But someone's told the education authorities that we're in the habit of lying about our address, so if I want to get into a good secondary school next September we've got to move for real."

"Aren't there good schools here?" Fry asks.

"There are. That's why we moved here in the first place. But I'm going to be bottom of the waiting list now." Archie says. "Which means I'll probably end up at Farmeade."

Farmeade was the roughest, toughest council estate in Holby. It was well known for gangs and trouble.

"Maybe it won't be so bad." Fry says. "I know you're not mega popular at Berry Hill Top but you've not been beaten up since you went there."

"I wouldn't last five minutes at Farmeade." Archie says. "I'm a posh kid with a posh voice. Everyone will hate me there."

He wipes his eyes. Fry watches him. He feels slightly sorry for him. But not very, because Joram is his friend too, and he knows Joram didn't come out of this unscathed either. And because lots of people can't just move house to get themselves into a different school.

"Have you tried not being posh?" he asks. "It seems to cause you a lot of problems."

At that moment, Archie's parents call him to come and get in the car. Archie offers Fry a handshake. Fry, for once, accepts it.

"Can I write to you?" Archie asks.

"If you want." Fry says.

Archie turns to go, then hesitates.

"Take care of Joram. He's starting at your school next term."

Fry stares after him in surprise. Then he goes into the kitchen to ask Mum about that.

"Mum, is Joram going to my school next term?" he asks.

"Yes." Mum says, looking up from the cakes she's making. "His uncle said he was being bullied at Berry Hill Top. I didn't tell you in case Archie was involved. He would have gone to your school last year, but they didn't have a TA to help him learn English from scratch."

"How can he afford it?" Fry asks. "Being a refugee."

"Well his British uncle and aunt are both doctors, remember." Mum says. "If there was a war here and you had to flee the country, you'd be a refugee. It can happen to anyone." She looks at him seriously. "Fry, Joram may not want everyone to know he's a refugee. Remember, his family in Syria were killed. It might be too painful for him to answer lots of questions. You mustn't tell anyone in school about him being a refugee. If he wants to tell people, he can do so himself. Just be a good friend to him."

Fry nods seriously. Okay, all of that makes sense.

"Fry, come and see!" Coral yells, suddenly, from the front window upstairs. "The new neighbours are arriving!"

Fry runs up to the window. Brooke and Gil come and join them, and Fry lifts Gil up to sit on the windowsill.

"Do you think they'll be posh like the Beauchamps?" Coral asks. "It's a big house so they'll have to be quite well off."

"I hope not, posh is boring and YUKKY!" Brooke declares.

"Look, a noo!" Gil shouts, pointing.

"A noo? What's a noo?" Coral asks, as the moving men come out of the van with a long object.

"Canoe." Fry says.

The moving men bring another canoe out of the van.

"I don't see any people yet." Brooke says. "Except the moving men."

"You don't pack the people in the moving van." Fry says.

Just then, a jeep pulls into the long driveway next door. The four children watch as the family get out of the jeep.

"Look, they're a gay couple!" Coral says.

"No they aren't, that's a woman with short hair, silly." Brooke says.

"I agree it's a woman." Fry says.

The back car doors open and three children come out of the car. The first is a teenage boy, followed by another boy about Fry's age, and a girl who looks to be about six, between the ages of Coral and Brooke. The three children have an 'outdoorsy' look about them.

"Well they don't look like the Beauchamps." Fry decides, after a few minutes.

"Shall we go and say hello?" Coral asks.

"Why?" Fry asks. "We can see them from here."

"I think that's what we're supposed to do." Coral says. "And you have to take a cup of sugar."

"A cup of sugar?" Brooke asks. "What for?"

"I don't know. I think it's tradition." Coral says.

They troop downstairs and get a cup of sugar to take with them. Then they go to the little gap in the hedge in the front driveway, and go through. Gil insists on picking some dandelions as a bouquet on the way.

"BAAAANDITS!"

The boy about Fry's age leaps out at him as he goes through the hedge, brandishing a stick. Fry squeals, much to the boy's surprise, and Coral drops the sugar. Brooke giggles and picks up her own stick.

"Who dares trespass into our newly claimed kingdom?" the boy asks, grinning and circling the four Sandhus. "Hazel, have you unpacked the keys to the dungeon?"

"You haven't got a dungeon." Fry says. "I've been in your house lots of times."

"EN GARDE!" Hazel shouts, jumping out at Gil brandishing another stick. Gil drops his flowers.

"Wee-wee!" he squeaks, running back through the gap in the hedge and abandoning his siblings to the scary neighbours.

"We come in peace. With sugar." Coral says, offering the half empty cup.

"Oh all right then." the boy says, dipping his finger in the sugar and licking it. "I'm Rowan, that's Hazel, my older brother is Flint."

Fry introduces them. "And the littlest of us is Gil."

"Cool. So, have you built anything epic in those woods behind our houses?" Rowan asks. "What are the climbing trees like? Any good ones?"

"Oh no." Fry says. "There's a danger of falling down holes, so we don't go there."

"Oh." Rowan looks disappointed. "So what do you do?"

"I like the piano, and computer games, and maths." Fry says. "Coral likes playing with toys and gardening, and Brooke is on the under fives ice hockey team."

"Oh good, one of you isn't a softie then." Hazel says, grinning at Brooke.

Fry isn't convinced that he likes Rowan and Hazel very much. A part of him suddenly wishes Archie would come back. But another part of him doesn't. It's like as they've got older, he and Archie haven't got on as well.

As his sisters play with the new neighbours in the canoes, he excuses himself and goes back home. It's four o'clock so it's time for piano practice.

comments

fry_sandhu @ 2017-07-10T21:13:00

2017-07-10T21:04:11Z

The end of the year is approaching. Fry had never imagined he'd miss someone like Miss Havisham, but he finds he's glad she's not retiring after all.

She's still a good way behind Mr Irons in his favourite teacher list, but he would take some beating.

There are a few loose ends to tie off. The first is to announce that he has, indeed, won the credit chart for doing the most extra work. He hasn't beaten the all-time record, held by Rosie Sinclair, but he gets the trophy and that's more than enough.

The second, is the class gathering in the garden to do the last harvest of their garden box challenges.

"You have learned many things." Miss Havisham says. "You have learned that growing crops requires year-around dedication, and space, and money. You learned that you can achieve more working in co-operation with one another, sharing seeds and knowledge and work.

I want you to remember that I set you a challenge of five pounds because some people have even less than that spare income. Remember how difficult it is to do things, however hard you work, with very little money, and be understanding of how difficult it is for the poor.

"But if you are unlucky enough to ever be poor yourself, remember how to do things like this. One potato plant is better than none."

Finally, Miss Havisham tells them that they will be spending an afternoon with Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald, their new class teacher for next year. She says a few words to them first.

"Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald is not the sort of teacher I am." she says. "In fact, I doubt you will ever have another teacher like me, who doesn't use technology, and puts so much emphasis on self-directed learning. I am a dinosaur, the last of my kind.

"If you want to get the most out of education, then you can continue to learn independently outside of school. You have all the books and resources and, dare I say it, even the internet. If you do not understand something, look it up. If you are poor at a subject, do more of it. If you want to achieve something, and you are not on track to, do something about it. Just because your next teacher will not, as I do, push you to do extra credit assignments, does not mean there is no benefit in you doing so, if you choose to."

She takes them through to the classroom next door. Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald gives them a friendly wave.

"Sit wherever." He says, gesturing to the tables.

Fry pauses. He's never not had an assigned seat before. Maybe it will at least be his own seat once he's chosen one.

"Fry, let's sit here, with Noah." Teddy suggests, seeing him looking lost. Fry sits gratefully at the little table.

Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald waits for them to be quiet, and when they are still chatting, holds up a hand.

"Right, this is a thing we did in the Boy Scouts. If I put my hand up, you all put your hand up, and you stop talking. Last one to stop talking is a rotten egg."

They all put their hands up and stop talking. Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald puts his hand down again.

"Awesome. I don't like to shout over a class. Let me tell you a few things about the way I work.

"Number one. You are children. I want you to use your imaginations. I want you to ask questions. I want you to ask stupid questions. I want you to tell me what you want to know. That's what this box at the front is for. If you don't tell me what you want to learn, we will do dull stuff from text books.

"Number two. I want you to be comfortable. If you need to take off your shoes or your tie or roll up your sleeves, or wear shorts in summer, or wear a dress if you're a boy, you do not need to ask, go ahead. You do have to put yourselves back together again before you leave the room. You can use fidget spinners or anything you need to concentrate so long as you're not bothering anyone else. You do not have to ask permission to go pee. And..." he pauses to make sure they are paying attention. "You can have your phones or devices or whatever in class, and you can use them to look stuff up, so long as we're not taking a test. If you start mucking around or texting, then they'll go in the box.

"Number three. Don't assume that just because I can't remember your name that I don't know anything about you.

"Number four. Punishing you is a waste of your time and mine. I'm pretty relaxed, so if I do tell you to do something, do us a favour and just do as you're told, okay? Any questions?"

Fry puts his hand up.

"May I stay sitting here for the rest of the year?"

"Yes, sit where you like." Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald says. "I don't move anyone unless they're being a nuisance."

Everyone seems very happy with all of this. Fry looks over at the long-haired, bearded teacher, with his feet on the table. He still feels unsure.

Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald then goes around the class, passing around some envelopes and scrapbooks.

"This is your holiday assignment." he says.

Fry opens the envelope. Inside are ten bean seeds.

"I want you all to find as many different uses for these beans as possible. I want you to use your imaginations. Each thing you find to do with them, you write in your scrapbook. Pictures even better. The only things you can't do are eat them - these are seeds, they're not edible unless you plant them - or stick them up your nose or in your ears or anything dangerous that will get me into trouble with your parents. Prize for the winner at the start of next term."

Fry stares at the beans. What a stupid assignment! Bean seeds are for planting. What else would you ever do with them?

When the rest of the class goes out to play, he hangs back.

"Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald?" he asks, when they've all gone. "Did Mr Irons or Miss Havisham tell you about me?"

"Yes." Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald says. Fry had half-expected the teacher not to know his name. "Your name is Alexander Jefry Sandhu, you prefer to be called Fry, and you have Asperger Syndrome which causes you some sensory issues and affects your ability to adapt to change. You learned to overcome change slowly with Mr Irons. I am going to help you develop imagination and the ability to deal with surprises."

"Surprises." Fry says flatly.

"Nice surprises." Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald says. "And I won't be mad if you can't use your imagination, I just want to help you try."

Fry takes his beans and his book. He's not sure about this. But he knows Mr Irons trusts his new teacher, and Mr Irons hasn't led him wrong yet.

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fry_sandhu @ 2017-06-03T15:16:00

2017-06-03T14:54:44Z

The headmistress of Fry's school is not, one would consider, someone to cross, and very few would try.

But this is important. And so, after spending a bit of time thinking about the news that Mr Morton - ugh - would be a full time teacher at school next year, Fry takes himself to see the head, and knocks on the door.

"Come in!"

Fry enters. It's unusual for him to come here when he's not in trouble, but still. Important.

"Mrs Patel." he says. "I did not set Mr Morton up. It wasn't a misunderstanding. He was bullying Mr Irons and I caught him. I don't think he should be allowed to come back and teach here."

"Who told you Mr Morton was coming back?" Mrs Patel asks.

Oh. Was he not supposed to know that? Fry isn't good at lying, and he'd rather Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald continued to give him information, so he avoids the question.

"I just heard."

"It's not up to students to choose their teachers, Fry." Mrs Patel says, watching him closely.

"But I defeated him, it's not fair!" Fry wails. "You're not supposed to have to deal with your arch-enemies after you defeated them."

Mrs Patel holds up a hand. "Thank you, Fry. I will take what you have said into consideration, and the school will be informed of the teaching arrangements in due course."

***TEN MINUTES LATER***

There is a second knock at the door. Mrs Patel looks up.

"Come in!"

Miss Havisham sweeps into the room. Mrs Patel recognises the sweeping motion. It usually occurs before Miss Havisham gives someone a detention.

"Mrs Patel. Am I dead?" Miss Havisham asks.

"...no." Mrs Patel says.

"I thought not. May I please withdraw my request to semi-retire?"

Mrs Patel raises an eyebrow. "It isn't finalised, but we've already found your replacement."

"You have not." Miss Havisham says. "Over my dead body will I stand by and let that slimy toad-weasel Mortimer Morton take my job after what he did to Jim. Misunderstanding my foot! Morton is a scoundrel and a liar, and Jim won't say anything, it's not in his nature."

Mrs Patel holds her hand up again. "Belinda, please, we had only two applicants and two jobs, teachers are in short supply right now. The local authority cleared Mr Morton..."

"I wish to un-retire with immediate effect." Miss Havisham says. "I'd rather work full time in pain than spend hours a week at home sitting waiting to be dead anyway."

The two strong women lock eyes. Mrs Patel nods.

"I respect your strength of feeling. I will reinstate you and inform Mr Morton that the job has been withdrawn. We may still need Mr Morton for some supply work, though, we're dreadfully short."

"Thank you. If we must have him for supply, I shall tell him he can bring his own teabags." Miss Havisham says, turning and sweeping back out of the room. Mrs Patel, who would not have let any other teacher get away with such demands, smiles slightly to herself and prepares to do a lot of paperwork.

Outside, Fry is hovering at the end of the corridor. Miss Havisham comes over to him.

"Thank you for that information, Alexander. I can't guarantee that Mr Morton will never return, but he won't be here permanently."

"Are you staying?" Fry asks, making a rare moment of eye contact in his excitement. "How long will you stay?"

"As long as I can. Thank you, Fry."

"What for?" Fry asks.

"Well, I didn't really want to retire that much anyway." Miss Havisham admits, as they walk back to the classroom. "It's rather dull being retired. And I've been at this school since I was just a little younger than you. I went to live with my auntie after my parents died, and she taught here as you know. I was in her class." she smiles fondly. "I was a bit of a rebel back then, I must admit, so it's funny that I turned out so converted to her methods."

Something connects, in Fry's mind. As soon as he gets back to the classroom, he goes to his locker and gets out the Miss Havisham Strategy Guide. Then he goes to the corridor with all the pictures and looks for the one of the right date.

"What's up?" Tommy asks him, passing a few moments later on the way back from the toilet.

Fry runs his finger along the names of the 7-8 year old students of the year the book started, 1956-7. Then he stops and taps one.

"This book we've all been using. The original author was 'B', right? There's only one name that starts with a B." he says.

"Who?" Tommy asks.

"'Belinda Havisham'." Fry says.

"Wait, what?" Tommy asks, squinting at the picture.

"She wrote the strategy guide to use against her aunt, and everyone carried it on when the current Miss Havisham took over teaching." Fry says. "She was the one helping us all along."

Tommy looks at the book, and then at the photo, and then begins to laugh.

"Do you think she knows it's still going?" Fry asks.

"Oh yeah." Tommy says. "Miss H doesn't miss a thing." He looks at Fry. "Let's keep this discovery between us. Some school legends are worth keeping going."

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