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.