“It was an accident. The boy pushed Blaidd first,” she said quietly.
I could still hear her from upstairs. When I focused, I could hear from very far away.
“Just like in nursery,” he scoffed.“Do we need to move again before all of Wales knows I have a freak for a son?”
My mother gasped. A plate slipped into the basin of water. A cup would have made a different sound.
Nursery.
Jessie. The girl who pinched me.
She didn’t like it when I pinched her back.
I tore some of her skin off. It was wet and slimy.
“He isourson. And he is not a freak,” Mum said, turning the tap on to wash her hands.
“The boy has a fractured skull, for God’s sake,” Dad said, setting his bottle down hard on the kitchen counter.
I listened a little longer before turning onto my side. My night glow stickers glowed brightly. I closed my eyes.
At least I didn’t need to go to school tomorrow.
Eight years old
I patted Mum’s hand. I felt bad for her. She’d been crying so much since Dad left, and now we’d moved to England. It wasn’t a house, and it didn’t smell right. I could smell the other people who had lived here before.
“It smells funny here,” I said.
She lifted her head and smiled at me, but her eyes were puffy and red.
“The flat will smell nicer once we’ve cleaned it,” she said, squeezing my hand.“You remember what we talked about for your new school?”
“Yes, Mum. I will try my hardest.”
“I know you will, Blaidd. I love you,” she said, wrapping an arm around me.
Her fingers tightened on my shoulder and she kissed the top of my head.
“Everything will be okay,” she whispered—but I didn’t know if she was telling me or herself.
???
“Why do you talk funny?” Gavin asked.
“We all talk like this in Wales,” I said with a shrug.
He looked surprised.
“I thought you were from another country. Like her,” he added, nodding.
I looked at the girl he meant.
It was Adeola. She talked funny too—but everyone talked funny in England.
“My dad says there are too many foreigners coming here.”
Foreign meant different. I was different too.
