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"Do you want to meet Ginger later?" Will asks when we're sat in our maths class, waiting for Mr Peters to arrive.

"Your dog?"

"That's the one," he confirms.

I smile as I doodle on my page. "Sure."

"Sweet. I've told him all about you."

I recoil my head and finally glance over at Will, noticing the grin that pulls on his cheeks. "You've told your dog about me?"

"Yep. Gotta keep him posted."

When my laughter comes out a lot louder than intended, I cover my mouth and try to stop my shoulders from bouncing. The whole class stares as I struggle to keep my laughter in. Will, on the other hand, has no problem with allowing everyone to hear his racket. He laughs even louder than me with no shame coating his face.

"Settle down," Mr Peters bellows, strolling into the classroom where he sets his briefcase on his desk. His eyes trail over the class, seeming much softer than they usually are.

Will scoffs and lets a scowl take over his face.

"Get ready for the most boring hour of your life," Will mumbles.

I hide my smirk with my hand, trying my hardest to not irritate Mr Peters, especially after I found him crying last week. Although he's moody and he picks on everyone, I can't help feeling a little sorry. Who knows what goes on in his life? Either way, it's no excuse to punish us.

Usually when Will makes a comment or quietly insults Mr Peters, I ignore it. Usually it's because I'm in a low mood and have no effort to simply crack a smile. Today, however, I feel on top of the world. I feel the best I've felt in a long time.

It won't last. This has happened plenty of times before. So much to the point that I know for a fact it will pass by in a day or so.

"Here are your test sheets. No talking to anyone. No cheating. No phones. If I see any of these, you will immediately fail," Mr Peters lectures us as he hands out the sheets.

"Careful, Sir. William might flip the table," Flynn taunts from the back of the room when Mr Peters reaches our desk.

Will slowly turns his head to face Flynn. If looks could kill, Flynn would be on the floor. "You better shut your mouth."

"It was a joke. Chill."

He fake laughs in response. "You're so funny."

"I know I am."

"I cannot wait till we're out of this class. I'll kick your-" Will begins to say, but Mr Peters clears his throat loudly before the threat can be finished.

"That's enough, boys."

Will slumps back in his chair and scoffs, visibly pissed off by Flynn. They've constantly been arguing back and forth all year.

"You okay?" I whisper.

Will pulls a smile on his cheeks, performing for me. "Peachy perfect."

"Ignore him. He's just trying to wind you up."

Mr Peters returns to our desk when the class is silent and focused on their sheets. He crouches down to be level with Will, and I'm so positive that he's going to lecture him over what was said. I hold my breath and prepare for Will to put up a fight and get kicked out of class.

"When you get upset, step outside and take five minutes to yourself," Mr Peters whispers, making sure our other classmates can't hear.

My lips part in shock that Mr Peters is willingly helping Will. I begin to wonder if it's because of the chat I had with him last week. But surely it can't be? No teacher would actually listen to a student who's telling them how to do their job. Would they?

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