The teenage boy jogged into the room, breathing heavily. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ he gasped. ‘The bus was a nightmare.’ The tutor nodded at him in response, and turned his attention back to the class.
For God’s sake, Johnny, he cursed himself. This was starting to turn into a habit.
He sat down, took out his books and a bottle of water and gulped heavily.
He felt a poke in his ribs and turned his head.
‘You okay mate?’ the ginger haired boy next to him whispered.
Johnny nodded. ‘Just thirsty.’ He grinned.
He flicked open his textbook, quickly trying to find the right page. Fuck. He swore under his breath. Paper cut. He sucked his finger. Why was it always the smallest things that hurt the most? Today was turning into one of those days where he wished he’d stayed in bed that morning.