A Wonderous Land

Chapter One: Geography Trip

The coach rumbles along the motorway, grey smoke tumbling out of its exhaust pipe. Snatches of loud music, chattering voices and the smell of sweat rise into the clouded sky, floating out of the window.

"Johnathan get down off that seat! Alicia what are you doing with those headphones that is a safety hazard! BENJAMIN! Leave Harry alone for goodness' sake this is a bus not a wrestling ring!" A tired-looking teacher stands at the front waving her arms and trying to wrangle the class into their seats. "CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION!" She screams, and the bus finally falls quiet. A snigger comes from one of the boys, and he is immediately fixed with a glare. "Yes, Joe? Is there a problem?"
"No, Miss Mills. Nothing." He looks down, smirking at his hands. Miss Mills rolls her eyes at him, but continues anyway.

"Now, we're nearly at our fieldwork location. As you all know, this is going to be an important part of your coursework for your Geography GCSE and I want you all to take this seriously. I've put you into pairs so that you can actually get things done, and I'm going to read those off now. I will be checking the groups so don't even try to change the person you're with." A groan rises up from the assembled teenagers, and she stands, waiting for silence. "Now that you're all done, I'm going to read off the pairs. Johnathan, you're with Felicity. Joe, you're with Laura. Harry, you're with Chelsea..." The list goes on for a while, each pair being followed by two people looking at each other with either disgust or glee. "Amy, you're with...Phoenix"
"Miss, how is that fair! All the other girls have to go with a boy, why does Amy get to go with her?" Laura shouts from the back, voice filled with mocking anger. Silence descends over the bus, as everyone turns to see how Phoenix will react.

"Laura, we don't tolerate that kind of behavior at this school. E...I mean Phoenix has made it clear that...they don't wish to be perceived as a girl and we should respect that." The teacher's voice is cold, but unsure. Phoenix barely raises their hazel eyes from their phone, nodding at the teacher and not deigning to turn around to glare at Laura. Dark hair falls over their eyes, curls sitting on tan skin. Amy, sitting across the aisle from them, turns to give them an awkward smile. Her blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail which falls over her shoulder. Her grey eyes sparkle and her pale skin is covered in freckles. Phoenix ignores her.

The bus rumbles into a parking lot, doors hissing open and a swarm of children spilling out.
"Everyone, line up here in your pairs! I want you all back here in no more than two hours. You have the worksheets, I want those complete by the time you're back. And properly complete! Yes, that means you Harry!" Amy and Phoenix stand together, Amy with her hands pushed into her pockets and Phoenix's eyes fixed on the worksheet held in front of them.

"So, I assume you're going to go off with your friends as soon as Miss looks away? It's fine, I can do the work by myself." Phoenix's voice is dry and tired, and they don't make eye contact as they speak.
"No... I think I'm going to stick in the groups we're meant to be in. I'll, uh, get in trouble if I get caught having moved. And...I actually want to get the work done." Amy sounds apologetic, as if she doesn't want to admit this.
"Huh. Didn't take you as the type to choose Geography because you actually liked it. Most people pick it because it's easy."

"Did you?"
"No, I'm actually interested in the development of LEDCs and the way our society responds to natural disasters. Um. Yeah, not just because I wanted to skive off. You avoided the point."
"I didn't really choose it for reasons as good as that. I didn't really know what I wanted to do and, well, a few of my friends had chosen it so it seemed as good a choice as any." Phoenix nods, expression slightly disapproving.
"Well, we might as well get going. This sheet isn't going to fill itself in."

"Oh no! My shoes are muddy!" Amy lifts her feet out of a patch of mud, brown strands clinging to the ground.

"Well you did choose to wear those shoes. The letter said to wear shoes you didn't mind getting dirty." Phoenix remarks dryly, looking down at their own boots, which are strong and thick-soled, and definitely more practical than the flimsy things Amy has on her feet.