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pounding on the front door. The loud exchange of angry and indignant voices, and the volume being pumped up even higher on the stereo. I flushed the toilet and put my forehead against the seat while the cistern filled back up with a series of burps. There was an angry scream, and the soft sound of fist hitting flesh. Another neighbour learning the hard way.
    He didn’t have to worry. At this rate we’d be moving on soon enough.
    I slowly walked back upstairs. My clock showed the time as being after two o’clock. There was noise, and I was agitated, but the tiredness gripped me even stronger, and I chased it down into sleep.
     

chapter three
    Daina 2004
    My lip was swollen, and a bruise shadowed my cheekbone. I tried to cover it with foundation, but the bottle was almost dry, and even adding in a few drops of water and shaking it didn’t provide enough to offer any real cover.
    So I walked into a door. Who was even going to ask?
    There were three strangers asleep in the living room. I tiptoed past them, and then slammed the front door behind me as hard as I could, and ran down the driveway.
    The tear in my skirt flapped gently against my knee as I walked down the cycleway at the back of the school. There must have been a rain shower overnight, and occasional drops from the tall oaks that lined the path dropped on my head.
    I could probably “borrow” a stapler from first period social studies if I could get into the room early enough. Until I could find the time to locate a needle and thread, emergency repairs would have to do.
    A fist in my back alerted me that Michelle or one of her cohorts was right behind me. I didn’t bother to turn. If my mother ran through her current tenancy in as short order as she had her previous one, then I could at least get rid of one problem.
    It would take another couple of months to run through a normal eviction proceeding, but last night sounded like it was close to drawing the attention of the cops and that would speed everything up.
    ‘Hey bitch, looks like someone appreciates you as much as I do,’ Michelle lilted as she walked past, ‘Next time get them to do something about your nose, why don’t you. Could use a lot of work.’
    I slowed down so I wouldn’t be right behind her, and walked over to sit on the wooden bench nearest to English. After form room I could get my skirt sorted, and then at lunch I might even be able to sneak into the home economics block to properly fix up my skirt. I snorted at myself. Dream big, sister. If I was truly lucky I could score some make-up from the year eleven personal presentation optional, and fix up my face.
    ‘Hey, do you have a calculator handy?’
    I turned to see a girl sitting next to me. She was part of a group of four, I knew the redhead was Susie Moore, but I hadn’t learned the other’s names yet. The one who’d spoken had the beautiful tan of Samoan skin, and dead straight black hair that looked natural. Unlike the friend to her left who looked like she’d gone full emo with black eyeliner, lipstick and nail polish to boot. The last girl had mousy-brown limp hair. Just like me.
    I rooted around in my bag for my pencil case. It was stained from years of use, and the zipper got stuck halfway down where one of the teeth had melted in the sun, but at least it held everything I owned securely. I pulled it open and wriggled out a small plastic calculator that my mother had got free from the bank. The logo was still clearly emblazoned on the front, even though half the keys had worn away.’
    ‘Cheers, big-ears. Mine ran out of juice.’
    I smiled at her turn of phrase. Juice was a word that I’d only heard in mum’s collection of seventies VHS tapes, not from an actual person.
    ‘You’re in Mr Nippon’s maths class right?’
    I nodded, yes.
    ‘What did you get for number three? I can’t work out quadratics to save myself.’
    ‘Eight,’ I answered from memory. I’d done the homework yesterday, during afternoon break.