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It was a relief to get off at Flinders Street, to leave the crammed carriage, to jump on the train to school. He easily found a seat; there were only a few people heading out of the city. At the other end of the carriage he spotted three boys from his school, three juniors in coloured blazers, not a crease in their jackets, not a spot on their ties. One of the boys looked up and noticed him. Dan glared back and the young boy hung his head. Dan's scowl shifted to a smile. The pipsqueak was scared of him, they were all frightened of Psycho Kelly.

The train rumbled slowly into the station. He waited till the three juniors were out of the carriage, then he stepped out onto the platform. The three boys merged with other students. Dan knelt down, loosened his shoelaces then retied them again, to give himself some distance from the other boys. He waited till they'd all left the station and then he began the slow walk up the hill to school.

Luke was at the tram stop, his hands behind his back, neat in his blazer, his tie perfectly knotted. Luke was a prefect now, and had to stand at the tram stop to inspect the boys on their way to school, making sure their shirts were neatly tucked in, their hair wasn't too long, that they weren't doing anything to damage the reputation of the school. Dan smiled, waiting for Luke to notice him. He pulled at his shirt tails, further loosened his tie.

As he approached he could hear Luke bawling out some Year Eight or Nine. The little kid was blushing, nodding like a spaz, trying not to cry; his two friends were standing back. No one dared say anything to the prefect. They were lucky they'd got Luke, who knew all the school regulations but was not unkind, not like some of the others, who were bullies who got off on giving shit to the younger kids. He just wanted them to follow the rules and the regulations. The kid was still nodding his head up and down like one of those bobbing wooden birds, and then Luke let him go and the kid ran off to his mates. Luke was looking up the road for the next tram as the kid raised his middle finger behind Luke's back and his friends burst out laughing.

Dan rushed past Luke, who turned around, surprised, just in time to see Dan grab the kid in a headlock. The boy was squawking like a chicken. Dan smacked the top of the boy's head with the back of his hand. The boy made one last squeak.

'You little wanker, you give my mate the finger again and I'll wallop you.' He let the boy go and he ran off. Dan grinned at Luke. 'They're all scared of Psycho Kelly.'

Luke looked at him but didn't say anything.

Dan knew they didn't respect him but they were scared of him; even Luke, even his best mate was scared of him. Because this new Dan was harder, tougher; he was the toughest and hardest boy in the school.

'If that little cunt gives you any lip again, you just tell me, I'll sort it.'

Luke recoiled. From the obscenity, from the blatant try-on of the unkempt uniform. There were words forming on his lips. Dan waited, daring Luke to say something.

Luke turned on his heel, and walked through idling traffic to the other side of the street. Dan hoisted his bag over his shoulder and followed him. A car that had just started to move braked suddenly to avoid hitting him, the furious driver blaring the horn. The boys walking up to the school gate all turned to look.

'Fuck off, wanker.' Dan was laughing as he said it, and gave the driver the finger.

Luke hadn't stopped for Dan, was walking as fast as he could.

'Hey, mate,' Dan yelled. 'Slow down.'

Luke spun around, furious. 'Do up your tie, will you? You look like a bum.'

A tremor whipped up Dan's spine like a slithering grass snake. He scowled, tensing. Luke stepped back, one hand protectively raised.

He thinks I'm going to hit him. Dan smiled, then re-knotted his tie and tucked in his shirt. 'That better?'

Luke didn't understand, he never had. Luke thought the worst thing that could happen was getting into trouble at school. If he got detention, Luke's whole world would cave in. Luke just didn't get it, didn't get that the very worst thing had already happened to that other Danny, that they tore apart and fucked up that other Danny. Luke just didn't get that there wasn't anything more they could do to Dan. If Dan were to stick to the rules, to obey every teacher's command, to nod attentively in every class, read every book they wanted him to read, attend their sports meets and cheer along; if he was the perfect student, obedient and meek and respectful, then they would hate him, they would never stop laughing at him. They would never stop reminding him how he had failed them and how he had never belonged there.

Luke just didn't get it.

When they were scared of him they couldn't touch him. They couldn't hurt him.

The boys were streaming past them. Dan wanted to reach out to his mate, he knew he should, he so wanted to touch Luke, but he was scared that Luke would shrug him off, that he wouldn't want someone tainted like Dan to come anywhere near him.

'Hey, Kazantsis,' said Dan, the grin still playing at his lips, 'I'm sorry, mate.'

And that was the moment, when they didn't have to touch, when Luke looked straight at Dan and right through Dan and saw beyond and back and through that grin on his face and he could tell how much his friend was suffering. It was as Demet had said all those years ago, there was a light that went from his heart to his friend's heart and back to him, and that was all the touch they needed. Dan was about to repeat his apology, this time without a stupid smart-arse grin on his face, but at that very moment a voice called out, 'Kelly!'

It was Martin.

The grin was back on Dan's face; his arms outstretched, he yelled back to Martin, 'How's it hanging, you big faggot?'

Not how are we going to stand for that, but how are you, Kelly, how are you going to stand for that.

Dan didn't let anything show but his stomach crashed down to his feet. He swallowed, maintained his composure. Martin had his eyes fixed on him. Dan had to turn away.

Wilco was in the swim team for the Commonwealth Games. It didn't matter how tough Dan was, how much the other boys feared him, none of that mattered. Wilco was the returning hero, Wilco was the hero of the whole school. There was no way Dan was going to stand in that hall and cheer for that cunt. No way.

He stuffed his bag into his locker. 'You go on ahead. I'm just going off to the dunny.'

Martin's eyes were narrowed, focusing on him, as if Dan were something pinned to a slide under a microscope, something small and dirty on the other side of a lens. 'I'll wait for you.' Martin's eyes had him trapped.

Dan's smile got wider. He looked straight back at Martin, gave it right back to him. 'You want me to hold your hand, do ya?'

Martin's gaze faltered. It started as a grin and then his face screwed up and he was cacking himself. He punched Dan on the shoulder. 'Danny Kelly, you crack me up.'

Dan punched him back, but harder, so that Martin knew who was the toughest. He'd told Martin to call him Dan, but Martin refused to do that, Martin always pretended that he'd forgotten. Now he was rubbing his shoulder: the punch had hurt. Good.