Free Extreme! by J A Mawter

said, ‘In this day anyone can set up an email address and call themselves by any name. Yours, Mrs Burridge. Mine. Or Mio’s.’ He did not look at Mio. ‘My daughter says she did not send these emails and after having read them I’m inclined to agree.’ Mio started to feel a little hopeful.
    Mrs Burridge stood up, her chair scraping in her agitation. ‘That’s what every parent says about their child, Mr Shinokazi…’
    Mio’s father made no effort to correct the error. The insult to his name was too great.
    Mrs Burridge continued, ‘From recent experiences at our school, we have found that every student is capable of sending hate mail.’
    Mr Shinozaki was leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed.
    Surely he hasn’t gone to sleep? thought Mrs Burridge.
    If she’d looked closely she would have seen the imperceptible nods of his head and known he was listening. But all she gave was a cursory glance. Mio almost giggled when her headmistress leant forward and tapped her father’s sleeve in an effort to wake him up.
    ‘ Ara! [Oh!]’ Mr Shinozaki pulled back in shock—one should never presume to touch another in this way—but as he did so he knocked a glass of water into Mrs Burridge’s lap.
    ‘Aaaaghh!’ screamed Mrs Burridge, scrabbling to get to her feet, with all the decorum of an ostrich.
    Mrs Shinozaki’s eyes sprung open, but she remained in her seat, saying nothing.
    Mio didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. This meeting could now officially be declared A National Disaster Zone. Later, when the Freewheelers listened to her tale, they roared with laughter, doubling up again when Bryce did a Mrs Burridge impersonation, but sobering quickly when Mio added, ‘I’ve been put on probation. One more incident and I have to leave The Met.’
    ‘Leave The Met?!’ exclaimed Clem. ‘They can’t make you.’
    ‘Oh, yes they can.’ Mio sighed and sank onto a bench. ‘There’s enough evidence against me.’
    ‘What evidence?’ growled Bryce. ‘Some stupid emails.’
    ‘Stupid would be good. Abusive and threatening are not so good.’
    Darcy slouched against the wall, his hands tapping in frustration. ‘Which brings us back to the question…Why would anyone do such a thing? What’s their motivation?’
    ‘Jealousy.’
    ‘Hate.’
    ‘Revenge?’
    Darcy whacked his fist into his palm. ‘Revenge for what?’
    Mio broke the ensuing silence. ‘The only thing I can think of is the petition. Someone doesn’t want me to go ahead with the petition.’
    ‘Skaters!’ said Darcy. ‘Dirty, rotten, scum-of-the-earth skaters.’
    When no-one replied Darcy got to his feet. ‘I’m going to take that petition to the council meeting tomorrow if it’s the last thing I do.’
    Clem placed her hand on her brother’s shoulder. ‘And I’ll be with you.’
    ‘And me,’ said Bryce.
    ‘Me, too,’ said Tong.
    Mio looked around at her friends and held out her hand. Four hands plonked themselves on top.
    Freewheelers!

Chapter Twelve
    That afternoon the kids headed back to their Van. To Mio, it now felt more like a sanctuary than a meeting place. She smiled as she took in the familiar surroundings—the TV table, the milk-crate seats, the battered old suitcase for storing stuff—and she felt safe.
    ‘Everyone sit!’ announced Bryce when the last of their bikes had been secured.
    ‘Why?’ asked Darcy, lowering himself onto a crate. He was getting taller now and his legs didn’t tuck under like they used to.
    Bryce laughed. ‘’Cause I don’t want you to keel over with shock.’ He reached for his backpack, teasing, ‘Guess what we’re having to eat?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Something we haven’t had for a very long time.’
    ‘Flutternutters?’ asked Clem, who was extra fond of the peanut butter and marshmallow spread.
    ‘Further back than that!’ And with a flourish Bryce pulled from his bag…
    Baby food!
    With complete seriousness, Bryce handed each person a tub of pureed apple and a spoon