"Ben Jeapes - Pages Out Of Order" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jeapes Ben) had to be revenged. He stood over Tom, using his height to dominate.
"Listen, queer boy--" "Oh do be quiet, Stevie-poos," Tom pouted and minced at him. "You'll make Evans jealous." Evans? Evans was the captain of the Firsts and surely as straight as they come. Couldn't Tom have picked a better target? But Gale was gaping, mouth open. Then he recovered and stepped forward, dangerously close to Tom and looming over him. "One last chance, Melton--" "One last chance, Melton," Tom mimicked perfectly. "Go squeeze your zits, Gale." Gale's hand shot out-- Tom's grabbed it and pulled Gale into a tight embrace. Gale bellowed and writhed to escape, but somehow Tom was hanging on to him and seemed to be whispering in his ear. Gale stopped writhing and stared down at Tom in horror. Tom released him and Gale, white faced, took a step back. "I ... you ... wouldn't!" he gasped. "Want a bet?" Tom said evenly. Gale fled. The rest of us were a frozen tableau, still awed by the extraordinary exchange. Tom seemed to have forgotten about us; he stood still, looking at his hands, then down at the rest of his body. Then he, too, left. I found him in the washroom. He was standing motionless, looking in the mirror. Not squeezing blackheads or zits, just looking. Sometimes he would move his head from side to side, never taking his eyes off his reflection. Then he saw my reflection behind him and turned round, grinning. was going to pull me into an embrace too, but he just stood and took me in as though he had never seen me before. "What was all that about, Tom?" I said. "Hmm? Oh, Gale, yes. I just mentioned a couple of names, that's all. I shouldn't have made fun of him." He smiled and actually put an arm round my shoulders, for all the world like a big brother. "He won't bully anyone again, that's what counts. I've done him a favour, really, 'cos now he's going to have to learn to make friends." That was all it took. Tom didn't want universal popularity, just to be left alone, and it worked. He could live his life his way and when it suited him he could be on good terms with anyone. He was not a violent boy and he despised bullies. He remained independent of cliques, but now it was the acceptable form of independence. He was open to everyone; he could mix with anyone if he so chose, and if he wanted to he could have been a leader of the year in his own right. One of the boys he could have led was Stephen Gale, who now practically worshipped his footsteps. Funny old world. With the Easter holidays on the horizon, I thought we should make arrangements for visiting again. "We're going to Scotland for the week before Easter," I said, "but we could squeeze you in any other time." "Ah ... yes," Tom said. "Will, would you mind if I didn't come at all? I mean, do come and stay with us, I'd really like that, but I want to be |
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