Chapter 1: Room 101 1 Room 101 The whole thing was totally humiliating, starting with the room. Room 101. The kindergarten classroom at Bright Future Academy. There were three of us, each awkwardly squeezed into the tiny, nubbly plastic chairs. Up in the front, there was Annika, the girl who looked like she had been blessed by a dozen fairies at birth. You know the type. She had tipped her chair backward at an alarming angle so that the ends of her long hair, the color of polished mahogany, hovered inches above the floor. Crossing her long legs on the edge of the desk, she aggressively cracked pumpkin seeds between her teeth. Behind her, hulking in the corner, dressed in a paint-splattered black shirt and black jeans, was Crud. He was a huge kid with wild dark hair and a jaw like two fists on either side of his face. There were all sorts of rumors about him. People said that he had been kicked out of his last school for trying to strangle his science teacher. And that he ate kittens. Each time he shifted his weight, his chair squealed in pain. Then of course there was me. Nell. I stole a glance at Annika, who noticed and returned the stare with her cat-green eyes. She slipped another pumpkin seed between her perfect teeth and cracked it in half. Sighing, I looked away. Of all people, why did Annika have to be in this club? I checked the clock on the wall. Its hands were blue oars held by tiny sailors in a red boat that was painted at the clock's center. 3:40. This thing was supposed to have started ten minutes ago. "This is the worst," I whispered to the white ferret in a cage on a little table. Someone had put purple doll-sized pants on the ferret. Probably one of the kids in the class. On the back of the pants was red-glitter script saying Sassy Pants . "Your pants are also the worst," I told the ferret. It stared at me with a peevish look on its face. Then it turned its back, giving me a full view of its sassy pants, before disappearing into a paper-towel roll. The classroom door swung open, and we all turned to watch The Viking burst in. He was new at the school, newer even than me. An eighth grader, like Annika and Crud--a year older than I was. He had a name, of course, but I didn't know it. In my head I'd always called him The Viking. Not because he was a big muscly kid or anything. I mean, he was tall, but on the thin side. I called him The Viking because he always wore a Viking hat to school. Not the kind with the horns. Real Vikings didn't wear those, anyway. His was a green cap with brown fur around its rim. He had egg yolk-colored hair that hung down to his shoulders, and his eyes were a pale blue with pinched pupils that looked as though he had been staring out to sea too long. A red Twizzler was sticking out of his mouth. He removed it and asked, "Is this detention?" Annika had been watching him with undisguised interest. Now she replied in her raspy voice, "It's called the Last Chance Club." She rolled her eyes at the name. "You know... they make you do community service work instead of being expelled. So you'll become a better human being. Supposably." "Suppo sed ly," I muttered. The Viking popped the Twizzler back into his mouth and sat down at the chair nearest him. He looked around the classroom, his eyes lingering on Annika. Shocker , I thought. His gaze moved to Crud, his eyebrows lifting at the sight of such a monster, then to me. I glanced away, but the next moment I heard his chair scraping against the floor as he dragged it next to mine. He sat there for a moment in silence while I pretended he didn't exist. "So what's your story?" he asked. I glanced at him. He was watching me--I mean, really studying me, which hardly anyone ever does, except my father. It was very annoying. "I don't have a story." "Yes, you do," he said. "And you know what else?" I hesitated, then said, "What else?" I tried to make my voice sound bored. But to be honest, I was very curious. Because the thing is, I do have a story. Annika knew my story--or part of it, anyway. Up until now, I had thought that she hadn't told anyone at school, but maybe I was wrong. "I bet your story is a doozy, that's what," The Viking said. "So let's hear it." I felt a strange mix of relief that he didn't actually know my story, but also irritation that he wasn't wrong. It was a doozy. He leaned in close to me, waiting. In my peripheral vision, I could see Annika watching us. I heard the hard crack of another pumpkin seed. I forced myself to look at him directly, to focus on the tiny white spot of light reflected in his pupils. It's what Kingsley taught me to do when an opponent accuses me of cheating. "Go away," I told him. He started to say something else, but to my relief the door opened again, and a tall, square-faced man stormed in. Excerpted from Hither and Nigh by Ellen Potter All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. 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