Louder Than Words Read Online Free PDF Page A

only writing, and didn’t I want to be a writer?
    But the coward part still shied away. Which was funny because the coward part of me was exactly why I was sitting on that bus seat letting Josie railroad me into getting a phone. I didn’t have the courage to say no.
    The shopping area was busy. Lots of people our age in groups hanging out, window-shopping, having a laugh. If they could read my thoughts on how freaked I felt at something so simple as having a phone, they’d have an even bigger laugh. Maybe Mum was right that day when she lost her temper with me and told me I needed an army of shrinks to sort my brain out and she didn’t know what she’d done to deserve such a screwed-up kid. In my head, I screamed back at her: You wouldn’t care how screwed-up I was if I could paint like Gideon, or play music like Carys, or basically if I was more like the others!
    ‘So you go to the same school?’ Josie asked me as we made our way down the main street and Silas waved to a couple of friends from school who were sitting in the window of McDonald’s. I started to nod, but Silas beat me to it.
    ‘Yeah, Rafi’s in Year 10 and I’m in the sixth form.’
    ‘That must be expensive, both of you there at once.’
    ‘I’m on a scholarship so I get my fees paid.’ Like my other brother and sisters had. ‘Our dad stumps up for Rafi.’
    About the only thing he did do for us, Mum said, and it was because I didn’t get high enough marks in the entrance exam or have some redeeming talent, so they wouldn’t take me otherwise. In fact, they weren’t keen on taking me even with the fees being paid, but as I said, my mother is a force of nature and the thought of the bad publicity that could follow if they turned me down clearly left the Head in a cold sweat. My mother was quite capable of phoning every press office in the country and ranting at length about discrimination and injustice to the . . . disabled .
    Josie carefully avoided the eyes of a girl we passed who stared at us in shock. My brother nodded slightly to her, as if he knew her, but not very well. I’d never seen her before. I nudged Josie.
    ‘She’s from my school,’ she whispered, as if the girl could still hear us even though she was some way behind now. ‘Didn’t they try to make you go to a . . . um, special school?’
    ‘Oh, they tried,’ Silas cut in, and for the first time in my life I almost didn’t want him to speak for me. ‘They recommended some really good schools: one for the deaf, one for school phobics, one for kids with behavioural problems. None for kids who are mute – there just aren’t any. But our mother wanted her to go to a normal school.’
    ‘What did Rafi want though?’
    And that was the question my mother never asked. She always knew better than me of course.
    ‘To go to the same place as me,’ Silas replied as if that should be obvious.
    He was right. That’s what I had wanted. Had he asked me or had he just known? I couldn’t remember now. But the loneliest time of my life was when he went to upper school and I was left alone in the prep and didn’t see him all day except for the bus. At least now I didn’t have to have lunch alone. I didn’t want to think about how it would be when he left after next year.
    I never thought about the future at all if I could help it. I suppose then I didn’t believe I had one worth thinking about. I mean, I knew I wanted to be a writer, but that was a dream – I never saw myself as any older than I was at that moment. There’d be nobody to speak for me when I grew up so I didn’t allow growing up to be real to me.
    I hadn’t noticed the group of boys coming round the corner, but they certainly noticed us. A burst of male laughter made me turn my head in their direction. There were five of them. I recognised Lloyd immediately from the photo. Josie went rigid beside me as she spotted him.
    Lloyd raised an eyebrow at her and gave a mocking wave.
    ‘Just ignore him,’ she