Eddie's My Boo

3. Brain: Activated

Richie picked up his pen and repeatedly twiddled it through is finger and thumb. He bit the cap off and started writing. This test was too easy for him. He pushed his hair away and coughed a little. His eyes were focused on the window, on the outside there were swaying trees, the leaves dropping off in the autumn wind.

"Aaalright everyone. Pens down. I'll collect your test papers now" came Miss Jordan's voice.
"Miss, I did really badly! It was too hard" a student said, sighing with sadness.
"No, no you didn't. I'm sure you've all done great". She glanced around the classroom, her expression doubtful.
Richie was shocked. I haven't finished, he thought, oh crap.
He thought of his mother, screaming at him. "You little brat! Why didn't you try harder" he imagined her saying. She would climb up the stairs, her teeth grinding.
Richie shook his head subtly, shaking the thought. "Here miss" he said, and handed her the test. He held on to it for a second, reluctant to let it go. Miss Jordans pulled it away, and glared at him. "Alright everyone, next lesson" she dismissed them with a flick of the hand and set the papers onto her desk.
Richie walked past briskly, hands on backpack straps. He sighed, his mum was going to kill him! Stanley jumped on his shoulders. "Hey! English next!" He got off and skipped to class.
Richie watched in a daze. Stanley was weird.

Richie shoulder barged people, staring intently at them. He licked his lips and swerved into class. The teacher counted him on the register as he came in. "Late, again. This isn't good enough," she said, tutting. She got out of her chair, out of breath from having to get up. She flicked the lid off a whiteboard pen, and began to write.
"Shannon, what does this paragraph mean?"
She answered.
"Close" she picked on another kid, hands on hips.

The day went by like a world famous runner, flying along the track.  Bill patted his shoulder, and nodded. He strode to the bus bays, looking up at the sky. "You're cheerful," Richie muttered in a disgusted manner. He got on his bus and shifted his weight from side to side. The seats were unimaginably uncomfortable. It was almost as if you were sitting on a bumpy, fluffy waffle.

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He turned the key into the front door. It moaned as he opened it. His mother was sitting in the kitchen, upright, mouth pursed. "H-hey mum. Is it ok if I go out today?" He asked.
His mum twisted her head electronically, and stood up. Her body was stiff and her dress was torn. "To see whom?" She asked. Richie could smell alcohol on her breath. "A friend. Stan. He wants to go over the maths homework," he said, indignantly. His head was pounding. 'Why was mum drinking?', 'she quit', 'what will she do?'. These thoughts flooded into his brain, without any sign of stopping.