The line-up

In the darkness of my bedroom

I switch on the computer

and bring up photos

from my school online.

I find the class portrait of year ten

arranged on three tiers

in front of the Science block –

uniform-neat,

girls: knees together,

boys: collars down.

Manx and I are up the back

on the far left –

neither of us smiling.

Patrick is front and centre

between Rachel and Harriet.

Ella is in the middle row

her hair tied back,

her chin lifted just enough

to show she doesn’t approve

of this cattle call.

And Angelo in the middle row

is deliberately cross-eyed,

tongue out –

the class gargoyle.

I stare at the faces as

a storm bird calls in the garden

and is answered by thunder.

I count off the students

with only one parent at home:

six out of thirty,

including Manx

and Rachel.

I close the screen

and decide

it’s the only time

I don’t want to be like my friends.