Imaginary Threads

"Is it off?" the teacher asked.

Aster nodded, glum.

"Show me."

Aster tapped the screen, which stayed blank, and pressed a couple of buttons for good measure.

"Good. Pop it in the tray then."

It clacked against the others, and the teacher moved on, thrusting the tray at the next student.

"Come on," she said. "Phone off and in the box, you know the drill."

Aster kept her face a study insullen obedience. Her smile was only on the inside.

The device she'd handed in.to Miss Dunnings was the new phone her dad had got her. She didn't like it. It wasn't a very new model, and he'd put a lot of restrictions on it.

The other one, the one her mum had given her, had no such restrictions. And this little beauty was hidden in the bottom of her bag right now.

The girl behind her leaned over and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Is it true your mum went mental and locked some guy in your spare room?"

"No," she shot back, "Where did you hear that? We had squatters in the house while we were away, that's all. It's all been sorted out now."

"Right. When you say, while we were away, do you mean when you had to do a runner because your mum-

She stopped. Their form tutor had finished collecting in all the phones, and was calling for quiet.

+

Later, at break, she sat on the edge of the planter with two others from her year, sharing a carton of hashbrowns from the canteen.

"So you're living with your dad again, now?" said Erika.

"Yeah."

“Is he normal now?”

Aster snorted. "Define normal."

"Well, I don't know. You said he did all kinds of weird stuff before. Like wearing all the hats and scarves in the house, or juggling eggs Any silly random thing you asked."

" I think if I told him to juggle eggs now, or wear more than one hat, he'd just look at me funny."

"Sounds more normal to me, Erika popped the last bite of crispy potato into her mouth, and licked her fingers.

"So what actually happened?" she asked. "With your mum?"

Aster became very interested in the cuff of her sleeve.

"She left. That’s all."

"And she didn't lock a man in your- "

Aster picked at imaginary threads, scowling.

"No," she said. "That's mad. Some crazy homeless guy broke in while we weren't there."

"That's not what I heard," Angel said, grinning. "I heard it was your mum's boyfriend. Heard he was pretty hot, too, before your mum messed up his face."

Aster couldn't understand why there were so many bizarre invented details to the story. It was quite wild enough.

She stood up, brushing crumbs from her skirt.

"I've got to go. I'll see you in English."

Once she was several paces away, the tears came. She rubbed them away roughly with her fascinating cuff. There were no footsteps hurrying do catch up with her. No voices calling out for her to wait, or saying sorry. Aster didn't know if that was a relief, or the source of another shard of sadness slicing through her.

+

The toilets were no good. Always crammed at breaktimes. The library was no good either. Too quiet, and too many people at the same time.

Aster didn't head for the English stairs, but instead went down the science corridor and turned right. There was a row of lockers down here.

In the summer four or five girls from the upper school would be squeezed in there, giggling, eating crisps, or reapplying eyeliner. Today, it was too cold. The radiator was broken, and the nearby door was constantly open.

Aster pulled her jacket tighter around herself, and settled in the tiny space. within moments, she had the phone out of it's case. She made sure it was on silent, and then opened the browser. She paused. She had no idea what to search for.

"man locked in spare room, news"

Would that do it?

The page was show to load, and before it did, a new message popped up on the screen.

> Aster, is that you?

It was from Dad. Aster swiped it away.

>Aster, it looks like you're searching something that could be upsetting/inappropriate. Would you like to discuss this?


How did he know? Aster swiped this away as well.

>Aster, we will be having a conversation about this. I encourage you to make the right choice: put your phone away. Rest assured, I will know whether you make the right choice.

Aster tapped "Reply" and jabbed at the keys.

-why are you talking like that? U sound stupid

> Thank you for catching that. You're used to a certain tone, and I should have held to that. Let's move forward with precision.

Aster threw the phone back in her bag as if it had burnt her, got up, and stalked back down the corridor towards the English stairs. The bell rang.