Free Zelah Green by Vanessa Curtis

us.
    ‘Get upstairs,’ says the Doc. ‘And let everybody else enjoy their breakfast.’
    ‘Don’t worry, I’m going,’ says Caro. ‘Bunch of losers.’
    She pulls the Manson T-shirt off and shoves it back at Sol on her way past.
    He gives a growl of frustration and slams out of the kitchen.
    ‘Just another day of peace and love at Forest Hill,’ says Lib.
    Alice is trying not to cry so we all eat cake instead of scrambled egg and make a great playof enjoying it. Except for Alice. She pushes a sliver of sponge around her plate and brushes a single crumb on to her lip from the side of a fork prong.
    ‘Honestly, she’s a little devil, that Caro,’ says the Doc. ‘Did you see the look on Sol’s face? He saved up to buy her that T-shirt.’
    ‘It’s my fault,’ I say. ‘I mentioned her parents.’
    Lib laughs.
    ‘Yeah, and if you hadn’t said that, she’d have still blown up at something else,’ she says. ‘We’ve all got issues in here, but Caro likes to be a drama queen.’
    I wonder what Lib’s issues are. Ever since I arrived last week she’s been friendly and upbeat. I don’t want to risk upsetting anyone else so I keep quiet.
    I’ve got worries of my own, anyway.
    Therapy at eleven.
    *
    I leave the breakfast table before the Doc so I can do one hundred and twenty-eight jumps on the top stair without her seeing.
    The plan backfires. Sol comes out of his bedroom in a black bomber jacket and stares at me.
    Flirt Alert
. That’s a new one.
    ‘Erm, sorry,’ I say, squeezing up against the wall so that he can get past. Sol slips by. He’s thinner than I thought, and shorter than all the girls in here. All the power is in his dark eyes and scowling expression.
    As Sol edges past me I get a whiff of shower gel and tobacco.
    He runs downstairs without looking back.
    ‘Get a grip,’ I say to myself. My cheeks are hot. ‘He’s just a boy. And he doesn’t even talk.’
    I start my jumps again from the beginning because once they’re interrupted it doesn’tcount, but little images of Sol’s olive skin and soulful brown eyes keep flashing up and interfering with my counting.
    In my head Sol’s grinning at me, one of his rare grins, and closing in on me, all the while pinning me to the wall with those amazing eyes.
    I’m being all girly and shy and flirtatious, flicking my hair about and chewing the ends of it.
    In the end I have to start all over again three times before I get to the end. The tender soles of my feet rasp against the hard insides of my trainers and I’m out of breath.
    I haul myself upstairs by placing a tissue in my hand so that I can touch the banisters.
    As I pass Caro’s room I can hear Josh’s gentle low murmur interspersed with Caro’s high-pitched, indignant rant.
    The door is shut, but outside in the attic hallway are shreds of cream-coloured paperand tiny red paintbrushes snapped in two. The wooden box lies like an upturned storm-tossed boat outside my room.
    I wrap a tissue round my right hand, pick up all the brushes and bits of paper and put them back in the box; snap the lid shut and put it outside Caro’s room.
    Then I head for the sink to scrub the sourness of the morning off my face and hands.
    The Doc is waiting for me in the therapy room.
    There are no sinks in here, nothing except the pale carpets and wooden furniture.
    I relax. Maybe we’re just going to chat today.
    ‘What a morning,’ says the Doc. ‘Not the happiest birthday we’ve had in this place.’
    As if to illustrate her point there’s a shriek of rage and a muffled slam from upstairs.
    The Doc gives me a rueful smile.
    ‘I think you’re settling in well, Zelah,’ shesays. ‘The others certainly seem to have taken a shine to you.’
    ‘Except for Caro,’ I say. ‘She hates everyone.’
    I think of the morning when I saw blood dripping down from her wrists, and shudder.
    ‘Caro isn’t as angry as you all think,’ says the Doc. ‘Anyway – let’s get back to you. How did you feel