As they entered the school, three bulky hoods came over to Brad. A fat one in a Yankees baseball shirt bumped fists.

‘Welcome back, bitch.’

‘You hear about Mayhew?’ another added. ‘Wrecked his car Saturday night.’

Charlie stood by awkwardly as Brad smiled and said, ‘Mayhew can’t drive when he’s sober.’

‘His grandma cracked him up the side of the head. His eye is puffed up out to here, bro!’

The four boys erupted in laughter.

‘So, who’s this blue-eyed honey?’ the Yankees-shirt guy said as he gave Charlie a creepy grin. ‘Bit young, even for you, Brad.’

Charlie felt her face turn red. She wanted to storm off, but the hallway was packed with bodies and she hadn’t read any signs because she’d been relying on Brad.

‘Charlie’s my neighbour at OIL,’ Brad said strongly. ‘And acting like dicks isn’t compulsory, you know?’

Brad turned to Charlie, but kept his voice low, as if he didn’t want the guys to hear. ‘Gotta catch up with my boys, OK? Main office is straight down, third on the right.’

Charlie rolled her eyes to show she wasn’t impressed, but cheered up as she made her own way, surrounded by school life. Stoners, losers. Musical instruments in big black cases. Backpacks and ring binders, locker doors slamming. False laughs and tangled voices.

For the first time in two and a half years, Charlie wasn’t inmate B3790, or the mad bomber, or the suspect in handcuffs. She was a nobody in a school hallway, and that made her feel truly free.

22 TERRIBLE TRIO

Harry called after school on Monday and Charlie told him her first day had been fine. The locker they gave her was busted and they’d started her in a low-ability science set. But she’d spoken to her teacher about the college-level courses she’d done at White Boulder and he said he’d try to get her moved up.

The afternoon was theatre arts. Charlie was embarrassed when they split into pairs and she wound up standing alone, but the teacher pushed her into another group to make a trio, and had a laugh with two loud Latina girls, who messed around so much they had nothing to show at the end.

‘Glad you survived,’ Harry said cheerfully, though he hadn’t liked hearing that Brad had picked her up and dropped her home.

Tuesday ticked by, but Wednesday turned out to be cursed. Betsy had a leaky fuel line and the school bus had already left by the time Brad found out. Charlie wound up taking a city bus and arriving twenty minutes late. She sat through three classes where nobody spoke a word to her. At lunch she found a table on her own and picked at her pizza slice and baked potato, until three ninth-grade girls came over.