After by Sue Lawson

concern us,’ said Christos.
    ‘Us? What does this have to do with you?’
    Maeve’s eyes flared. ‘CJ!’
    The colour drained from Christos’s face. ‘Seeing as I help pay for your education and lifestyle, it has everything to do with me.’ He pulled the pages from the envelope, his jaw rigid.
    CJ could see words had been underlined.
    ‘Wasted potential. A natural leader who misuses his talents. Lack of respect for self and others. Insensitive—’ When Maeve looked up, the hurt in her eyes made CJ squirm.
    ‘Come on, Mum,’ said CJ. ‘Callaghan picks on me.’
    Mum sighed. ‘I haven’t read out Ms Callaghan’s comments yet.’
    CJ rubbed a scratch on the table. ‘Who gives a stuff what teachers think, anyway?’
    Christos slapped the table.
    ‘Take responsibility for your actions, CJ.’
    ‘Like you’d know,’ said CJ.
    ‘CJ!’ Maeve yelled. ‘After everything Chris does for you...’ Her hair was wilder than her eyes. ‘You go on and on about not being a little kid, yet you act like one. Grow up and stop behaving like a loud-mouthed bogan.’
    ‘What, and be a hippy bogan like you?’
    Maeve recoiled as though he’d hit her.
    ‘Callum, you apologise—now,’ bellowed Christos.
    ‘I’m too insensitive to know how.’ CJ stomped out of the kitchen.

CHAPTER 13
    The entire school lined up in classes on the basketball courts—Prep at the front and us at the back. The teachers stood under the flagpole.
    Ella Bennett leant against the Prep/One classroom, holding a CD player, its cord hanging out the window. Ella hit the stop button as the last few bars of ‘Advance Australia Fair’ blasted out the speakers. This was nothing like assemblies at my old school. No prayers, no lectures about uniform or behaviour at the bus stop and no Mr Spencer stalking at the edges, like a shark circling, ready to attack if anyone even twitched the wrong way.
    Instead it was Student of the Week awards, a talk about throwing sand in the sand pit and a burst of ‘Happy Birthday’ for those dragged up the front and presented with birthday stickers and cards.
    ‘Have a lovely birthday, children,’ said Mrs Gray, watching the birthdayers wander back to their class groups. ‘Finally this morning, could Callum Alexander join me out the front please?’
    Now what?
    ‘Hurry, Callum,’ said Mrs Gray, when I hadn’t moved.
    I slunk around the edge of the basketball court and stood near Ella.
    ‘Over here, Callum. No need to be shy.’
    Could it get any worse?
    The Preps giggled. A rougher laugh rolled towards me from the back. Mrs Gray placed a hand on my shoulder, anchoring me to the spot. ‘I’m sure you’ve all seen Callum around school this last week.’
    I cringed. Why didn’t she just draw a big, fat target on my back?
    ‘Callum is staying with his grandparents for ... a while.’
    Frewen’s scoff made my skin prickle.
    ‘Would you like to tell us a little about yourself, Callum?’
    I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and focused on the asphalt. ‘I live in Melbourne with Mum.’
    ‘No shit, Sherlock.’ There was no disguising Luke’s voice.
    There was a gasp, giggles then a roar of laughter.
    ‘Settle down, thank you,’ yelled Mrs Gray, her face red.
    ‘Proud of yourself?’ hissed Ms Nugent, as she stormed past.
    She clapped her hands and bellowed. ‘Quiet. That will do, thank you.’
    Mr Agar strolled forward and blew his whistle.
    Mrs Gray raised her hand like a traffic policeman. The laughter died down. ‘On that note, I think we shall return to class. Preps first.’ Mrs Gray pushed up her jumper sleeves. ‘Luke Bennett, here please.’
    I started to walk away.
    ‘Stay where you are, Mr Alexander.’
    Luke ambled forward in his unco way, hands in his pockets and head bowed.
    Mrs Gray folded her arms. ‘Luke, I’m—’
    ‘Sorry, Mrs Gray.’ The sorrow in his voice made me uncomfortable.
    ‘It’s not his fault, Mrs Gray. I said it in—’
    Her raised hand stopped me. ‘I