Page 4 of The New Girl

Ruby sighed and stared at her mermaid pen. Safa tried to calm down. She needed to keep her frustration in check, or she’d never make friends. She had to remember that these girls hadn’t experienced or seen what she had. They hadn’t had to leave their country and friends behind. They took their peaceful lives for granted.

The bell rang for break. Ruby got up and rushed towards the door.

‘Ruby? Haven’t you forgotten someone?’ Miss Ingle said.

Ruby turned around slowly. She beckoned Safa to follow her out. Two other girls walked with them down the corridor towards the front door. They introduced themselves as Denise and Clara.

Safa stopped to grab her coat.

‘You don’t need that,’ Denise said. ‘It’s warm today.’

Warm! Safa had been freezing walking to school earlier.

‘She’s from Syria, for God’s sake – it’s roasting over there.’ Clara told Denise.

‘I do find it cold here,’ Safa said.

‘Cold, rainy and crap,’ Denise added. ‘If I lived in a hot country, I don’t care what was going on, I’d stay and have a tan all year round.’

‘You don’t tan, you burn,’ Ruby grinned at her friend. ‘We all do.’

Clara’s face reddened. ‘For God’s sake, guys, she ran away from a war.’ Turning towards Safa, she said, ‘Please excuse my ignorant friends. They don’t watch the news.’

‘It’s OK, I’d never heard of Ireland before I came here,’ Safa admitted.

‘You sound like the queen when you speak – so posh!’ Denise said. ‘Do all your family speak English?’

‘It’s just me and my mum here. She doesn’t speak much English so I translate for her, but she’s been getting lessons, so she’s improving.’

‘Are you an only child?’ Clara asked.

Safa nodded.

‘Me too! Great, I was the only one in the class until now. It’s just my mum and me at home too.’

‘Hi, dork.’ A teenage girl strutted across the yard to them.

‘What are you doing over here in the junior school yard?’ Ruby hissed.

‘Relax, I need to borrow money for lunch.’

‘I only have two euros.’

‘That’ll do.’ The older girl held out her hand. Noticing Safa, she asked, ‘Who’s your new pal?’

‘This is Safa. Safa, this is my sister, Orla,’ Ruby mumbled.

‘Your cool, drop-dead gorgeous, almost-sixteen-year-old sister Orla.’ Orla blew a chewing gum bubble out of her mouth. ‘Are you the refugee I heard about?’ she asked.

‘Yes, I’m from Syria.’

‘Cool. Is that your natural tan or are you wearing fake? It looks real.’ Safa struggled to understand this older girl. She spoke so quickly and chewed gum at the same time. It was hard to follow what she was saying.

She didn’t look like Ruby at all. Ruby had brown hair and green eyes; her sister had dyed blonde hair and blue eyes. She was wearing lots of make-up around her eyes that made her look a bit like a clown.

‘Leave her alone, Orla. It’s her first day,’ Ruby said.

‘I need to know if that’s fake, ’cause if it is, I want it.’

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