For When You're A Man (under reconstruction)

Back To Business

I'm probably going to be up to my ears in economics catch up work but if I lie low, I can probably avoid some stares.

I flipped through the parts of the specification that I would need to go over on my phone and Lottie was seated in the middle row. Clearly, she was new to the bus life because it's common knowledge that the middle rows on the top floor of the bus should be reserved for the early morning crazies but I digress. I appreciate the effort of her of coming from the Isle of Dogs to Peckham because usually, it's the other way around. And people don't tend to return.

Her green eyes were glued to the window. Probably at the bin bags that had burst open right outside the African foods store. It would be a shock if you weren't used to it I suppose, but I kind of like that it scared people away because it keeps the plantain chips permanently stocked.

She probably thought I lived in the nice part of Peckham with all of the Hipster restaurants or something. If she did, I never would have corrected her. I prefer not to remind people every second that I was the scholarship boy. 

She had no reason to take a bus to school because her Dad usually drove her in his vintage mini-cooper but I was glad that she was here, even if it was a little disorientating for her.

I rested my head on her little shoulder which was more for emotional comfort over physical. She really went out of her way for me. 

"It hurts a lot," I breathed out finally.

I was thankful that she didn't say anything, I could do with a little silence right now. She knows I hate sympathy.

"See you at rehearsal today, Juliet," I said as she got off to go to maths (the building was so far from the sporting grounds that there was no point going an extra bus stop).

"Bye Romeo's understudy," She said with a smile in her eyes.

But first, swimming. 

Swimming is my sanctuary whenever I need to escape. When I'm thinking about doing another stroke, the coldness of the water or if I'm going fast enough, I have no time to think about anything else. 

The only thing is, my hair gets exceptionally brittle after so I have Biola put it in braids before I go. Of course, that warrants the odd 'gay' comment in the changing-rooms along with those stupid gestures but most people think Lottie and I are in love with each other so I don't get it often. 

I'll admit that my corrections haven't always been as firm as I would have liked because if they think Lottie and I are together then they are less likely to clock that I'm not wired that way.

Jason came up to me and squashed me in a big, unwarranted hug. He's lucky that I love hugs otherwise I would have hurled him back into the pool because he got my school shirt sopping wet.

"We missed you! You and Lott should come over today," He said, Jason didn't really ask things - he just said them. But with his super wide HQ smart TV and his superb anime selection choices, who was I to say no?

He and Lott had better put on a musical or some anime and not their stupid true crime documentaries. You are a strange specimen of human if you go on Netflix to watch a documentary. 

"I'll bring the snacks," I said with as much energy as I could muster.

***

There was a change in the seating plan to get each of the Houses to interact more with one another  (yes we have Houses, I'm still getting used to it too).

If there's one thing that will ruin this day that I'm trying to make normal, it's a seating plan change. I can only tolerate around half of the people in this class and they were all on my old table.

This is the one time I will allow sympathy, I need my seat to remain virtually the same.

And then I saw it. 

My exercise book placed next to the biggest twat that ever graced the corridors of Hawthorne Independent Institution for Toffs, Tories and Charity Cases. 

Sebastian Woods. 

An obnoxious pornstar name if I've ever heard one. So arrogant and infuriatingly attractive to the point that it makes him repulsive. But he is still undeniably fit. 

I sat down and audibly exhaled.

"You have five minutes to discuss your thoughts on the 2008 economic crisis." The teacher said.

I put on my best false smile and treated this as an acting exercise.

"What did you think about the banking crisis?" I asked, trying not to roll my eyes at his obnoxious way of sitting that took up way too much space.

"I know your type," he muttered cryptically.

I raised my eyebrow in curiosity.

"The self-righteous special-snowflake type of scholarship prat who thinks that everyone here is a classist, privileged arsehole but uses all the benefits that our parents pay for. The type of shithead that thinks that he has the hardest life in the world whilst everyone else in his neighbourhood still goes to a shithole school." He said, with this gleam in his eye as he registered the wariness in mine.

"First of all, I've never done anything to you Mr I'm-everywhere-on-the-prospectus-because-they-needed-diversity. And secondly, it's easy to think critically about class interactions when you have the security and privilege to do so. Not all of us can relate to that. Just stick with your people and don't bother talking to me." I retorted, pushing up my glasses that had slipped down in anger. 

Part of me was slightly impressed with his clever tongue that managed to hurl out a million insults in a five-second time span but a much larger part of me wanted to rip out his pretty eyelashes and feed them to him.

"What were you talking about here boys?" Mr Greene said, clearly proud of his decision to put the only two black people in the class together because they'd automatically get along swimmingly.

"We talked about how the socioeconomic classes drastically changed as all of the newly middle-class finance workers suffered greatly and we got a bit passionate," I said quickly before Sebastian said something irritating.

He just smiled and nodded and we began the lesson. 

After it ended I rushed out as soon as possible. I wished on everything that there would be another seating plan change soon.