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One of chemistry and dinner. That was a mistake, taking chemistry. He shouldnt’ve done it, it was even worse than music. Music was the daftest thing of the lot but too late now to drop it. There was nothing he could do except just stick it out and just think about it as a subject he was going to fail. It meant it was one less thing to worry about. He had enough on his plate. And the way they were expecting as well you’d be staying in and studying at night-time, it was beyond talking about, it wasnt even funny. That thing you did you just found something to concentrate on, anything, a wee stain or a name or anything, just so’s you could concentrate your mind right away, you’re running through the middle with the ball at your feet and the big defender comes sliding in and you tap it on and run round the other side and pick it up again and stop dead and let the next one go sliding by, and you’re on now and just at the eighteen-yard line; there’s the goalie, he’s jumping from side to side and now coming rushing out with the hands up and all set to dive at your feet and then he does it and you hit the ball with a lot of swerve and it just creeps in at the far post; too easy, too easy, and you turn and give a wee wave to the crowd, not showing off about it and you just stroll back for the restart, shaking hands a couple of times, the guys patting you on the back. And what else you’ve got you’ve got a boat, a cabin cruiser you can sail anywhere you like or a big yacht or what else, a corner kick and you’re hovering about on the eighteen-yard line and when the cross comes over you meet it first time on the volley and see it go bulleting into the top righthand corner of the net; what a goal! a cracker! the keeper had no chance! no chance. And what was bad as well was how if you didnt get into the school team you were an idiot, that was you and you’d be as well just chucking it altogether. Sometimes you had to kid on you didnt even feel like playing, as if you didnt even feel like playing and werent even really interested, and when you passed the gym and saw the names on the notice-board, always having to look just to fucking see what it was, that was terrible, it was something that was really really terrible. And his da was disappointed. You couldnt explain either. This is what was bad about it. The way it worked, if you tried to explain it, how they picked the team. They didnt even really care who got put in and who got left out. It was like favourites, they just took the ones they liked and then left out the other ones, the ones they didnt like. It wasnt even that either; they just didnt really care, it was plain. They seemed to make up their mind you were rubbish and that was that and they would just more or less never see you again or else be sarcastic all the time, treating you like an idiot, the same as Doughball McDougall and even when you got a good mark in your test they acted like it was a kind of mistake and didnt take any notice. He was totally sick of it now. He just shouldnt’ve been there any longer. There again but, jobs. What was he going to work at? In a garage or something, that would be good. Some of the guys that did it got motors out for the weekend and they could just drive about the place. You got your licence at 17. A motor bike would be good as well and you didnt need to wait; it was really fast and nobody to bother you, just sitting on it yourself, unless maybe you had a lassie and you just shot off into the country for an outing, or down the seaside and the two of you going in for a swim. Even with Tracy, all you did was ask her and see and if it was a good sunny day she would say aye, or else naw, if she was going out with another guy. She was in a different world but, it was all older guys, some of them left school, and her and her mates went to the pub as well sometimes. It was easier when you were a lassie — everything. You just had to stand there and just wait. But if you were a boy you had to go out, it was more difficult, you couldnt just stand there, even knowing how to start, if you were a boy, you had to start, what did you do did you just feel the tit? These things you never seem to find out properly, you’re never totally sure if it’s right, if the lassie’s thinking you’re an idiot. In one book he got seeing the guy just straight away sticks his hand up her skirt and she’s so surprised she just lets him, she just lets him do it. The very thought and you had to jam your eyes shut and switch off your brain or your hardon, you jammed shut the eyes because of the pants, thinking about that and a lassie like Lesley Denham, if you got stuck into her class in a different school, you had to shut off the eyes and switch off the brain and enter into a different dimension altogether, concentrating the mind like convicts did in their jail cells, the whole world linked inside their heads and they can control their thoughts to take them where they want. The old guys who’ve been in for life-sentences tell them how to do it, they pass it on from man to man because otherwise they’d all crack up, they’d go crazy.

The desklids were going up. It was good it was dinnertime and you got away for a while. Imagine a school where you had to spend the dinnerhour in the classroom, where you werent allowed out.

Mr Cowan was looking at him. Gary lifted the desklid and kidded on he was shifting stuff about. Smit was over by the door and most of the other boys had left already. And the lassies as well, nearly all of them standing up and lifting their bags and things. It was terrible. Gary got up and strode to the door and right out and down the corridor, not looking back the way. One thing he was going to do as well he was going to leave by the car park because it was strictly against school rules and you got that tingle.

Heh Gary!

It was Smit. He kept walking, striding across the playground towards the car park and soon there wasnt anybody else about and he felt as if the sun was about to shine and his nerves were twanging away and he felt it right down his spine, the voice shouting: You boy! Gary laughed aloud but there was nothing, nobody around at all, the teachers in the staffroom probably. Idiots. Their life was just a joke the way they got all worked up about wee things, petty things.

Far to the side and parallel he spotted Big Hammy and the rest walking along the track. They’d be heading for the chip shop. Where was Smit? If he was coming behind it would be really hopeless. But he was not going to turn round and see because that even made it worse. And if he was following Gary was going to knock fuck out him because he was fucking sick of it, getting followed about the place, people would think he was a poof or something, the both of them, because that was what happened, they just waited their chance, just so’s they could start telling stories about you. They did it with everybody. If you could manage to kid on you didnt care, that you didnt really care what they said, that was the best thing.

He was approaching the last bit of the driveway now and he paused and moved his head sideways a fraction, and he whispered quite loudly: Smit! see if you’re behind me, I’ll fucking batter ye.

No answer. There was nothing. Gary was walking on again. As soon as he reached the gate he turned but there was nobody at all, there was nobody stretching right back into the car park, the space was totally empty. What a sight!

Hey Chanty!

Gary turned and started walking. It was Big Hammy had shouted on him; he’d be wanting to know if Gary was going to the chip shop or what was he doing, because he always liked to know what people were doing and he knew Gary might be dogging the afternoon. Some of them thought Gary was good because of the way he went about on his own, no really bothering about the rest and just going away and dogging it whenever he felt like it. There were places to hang out if you had dough but sometimes right enough he felt it would be better if somebody was there as well, along with him. Big Hammy and a couple of the others waved at him but he ignored them and kidded on he hadnt seen them and they shouted again, Hey Chanty! Gary — hey Gary!