Free Goddess of Gotham by Amanda Lees Page B

‘I’m trying to become invisible,’ she mumbled.
    CeeCee rolled her eyes at LeeLee. ‘Invisible, right,’ she snorted.
    ‘Never mind invisible,’ said LeeLee. ‘You just get on in there. And remember, Kumari, don’t say nothing to no one except your teachers.’
    ‘It’s anything,’ corrected CeeCee. ‘Don’t say anything to nobody’
    ‘Whatever,’ said LeeLee. ‘Good luck. See you later.’
    And with that they turned and headed towards their High School. It was only two blocks from the Rita Moreno Middle School but it might as well have been on the moon.
    ‘Can’t I come with you?’ Kumari yelled after them.
    ‘No way’ shouted LeeLee.
    ‘We’ll be rooting for you,’ called CeeCee.
    Oh, great, thought Kumari.
    There was nothing for it but to follow the crowd, now down to a trickle. Up the steps and through the doorway, head up and eyes forward. Past two men sitting at a desk, idly chewing as they
chatted. Kumari caught a glimpse of some kind of badge. Oh no, not more policemen. On and on she walked, down corridors and up stairways. Picking a likely-looking group, Kumari stuck with
them, only finally coming to a halt when they entered what she took to be a classroom.
    Everyone was slouched behind a desk. Most were laughing and talking. Someone flicked a rubber band across the room. It landed inches from Kumari. She bent down and picked it up, wondering if she
should return it. She looked about for a seat. Not a single one was vacant.
    OK, thought Kumari, now think of something.
    She shuffled her feet, feeling conspicuous. And then she spotted the blackboard. Excellent! No one else had yet written the quote for the day. Here was something she could do to look
busy. It was what the RHM expected. Each morning before class back home, Kumari would chalk up an appropriate quotation. That way, they could discuss its meaning and the wider implications. Surely
her teacher here would appreciate her effort? School was school after all and teachers were pretty much the same, right?
    Nervously, Kumari picked up the chalk. She could feel eyes upon her. The odd snigger erupted as she wrote. Looking up, she eyeballed them. Face upon face, staring back. Some confused, some
amused, some downright admiring. Then, as one, their eyes flicked to the door, their expressions swiftly changing. Kumari followed suit. A man carrying a pile of books stood there. A man with his
lips all screwed up as if he were sucking spaghetti.
    Kumari rather liked spaghetti. It was one of the few things Ma cooked that she considered edible. But sucking spaghetti was not a good look. Especially when accompanied by a scowl. The man
marched over to the desk and dumped the books on it.
    ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
    His eyes scanned her careful efforts on the blackboard. A man should first direct himself in the way he should go. Only then should he instruct others.
    ‘Today’s quote,’ said Kumari.
    The man glared at her as if he could not work out what she was. Kumari noticed how his nostrils flared. That must be what was making his moustache twitch. That and the little muscle that jumped
at the corner of his eye. Really, this man was so uptight. It couldn’t be good for his heart.
    ‘You need to calm down,’ she said kindly.
    ‘Calm down? Why you . . . ’ the man took a deep breath. Several, in fact. And then, very quietly, he said, ‘Get away from my blackboard, kiddo.’
    Kumari could hear the silence that fell. It was as if they were all waiting. Although for what she could not imagine. She must have made some kind of mistake.
    ‘I’m sorry’ she said. ‘But you really do need to calm down. It’s not good for you, you know. I mean, your face has gone all red.’
    Someone tittered in the background. A strange noise emitted from the man’s lips. A sort of wheeeeeeeeee sound, like a kettle building up steam. His fingers clenched and unclenched. He
appeared to be finding it hard to breathe.
    ‘Twenty years,’