Friendlier classmates had said goodbye to him at the gate, and he had got on the bus, realizing with surprise that he was going to miss the shabby old building with its run-down classrooms and potholed playground.The other students had waved, even the pupils who had tormented him, and he'd waved back and tried to smile. Friday had been Danny's last day at school.
He would flash a smile, grunt a hello and leave the room. And even when he was home he would walk into a room and look at Danny for a moment before recognition dawned on him.
His father, a tall stooped man with a high forehead, was away at work most of the time. It wasn't as if they were going to miss him, Danny thought bitterly. But his mother had visited the school, and said it was perfect for him. He doubted that Heston Oaks was going to be any better-it would probably be worse. The abuse was one of the reasons, his parents said, that they had decided to send him to boarding school. Danny the Pixie was the mildest of his nicknames.
And if that wasn't enough, his face was a kind of triangular shape, with a sharp chin, and he had pointy ears. Because of an accident during an operation when he was young, his eyes were different colors-one blue and one brown. His eyes and his general appearance were the targets of constant cruel jokes. When he thought about it, he got a hard time more or less all the time at school. He imagined it full of muscled goons who were good at sports and not much else.ĭanny was too small to be good at sports, and got a hard time on the football pitch. He didn't even like the name of the school: Heston Oaks. He liked living there, and the idea of far-off boarding school didn't appeal to him. He loved their house with its creaky floors and high windows with shutters you could close at night and attics you could explore.
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