Chapter 17

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✈️James' P.O.V✈️

I climb into my car ready for the long journey ahead of me. Everything packed into the boot of my car. Saddle pads, grooming kit, you name it. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Everything I'm gonna need.

As I slam the heavy metal door of my black car, I put the key into the key hole. I turn the shiny key. It is cold to the touch - thanks to science. I think, I wasn't the brightest kid in school you know.

🕊Memory Flashback🕊

"Paula do you understand now?" Mrs Kirkman asks Paula. Paula nods but she still looks unsure. Inside the medium sized classroom is posters and kids work literally almost plastered to the walls, except on the windows. The posters are written in Spanish, German and French. A language classroom. A science class taking place inside it though. Physics to be exact. They are learning about heat and particles, how the particles react and move in different temperatures. With 16 desks evenly placed with small isles between them, two pupils sit at each desk but some rows are empty. Paula fiddles with her pen. She has no idea what the teacher is talking about. Mrs Kirkman, the classes teacher, has square geeky glasses and short blond hair that is cut just above her shoulders in a neat little bob. Her woolly cardigan catches on her whiteboard pen as she stands drawing a quick diagram and writing a few notes on the board, maybe so Paula can understand. Next to Paula is Stephen, a small boy with dark skin and short cut hair. He taps on the table rhythmically and sings and old African song quietly. The whole class sings along as he sings 'I got to break free', even Mrs Kirkman. It's a little class joke they all have together, all 28 pupils in the class.
"As the particles heat up, they have to break free to melt or evaporate." The teacher explains. Stephen starts off the singing. James and Destiny tap along in sink to the beat. This was a moment that everyone would cherish and talk about at graduation or their leaving assembly at the end of year 11. As Mrs Kirkman explained the particles breaking free, she mentioned that warm objects can sometimes feel cold.
"Just like the metal legs on these tables." Everyone touched the legs of the tables.
"Ohhhhh yeah!"
"Anything metal normally." She said.

The key in the slot felt cold like it did that very school day. I was in year 8 then. I was 13. Now I'm almost 19. As I drove along the road in the early dawn, I saw the last remaining stars vanish like smoke behind the trees and the flat horizon. The bright orangey yellow sun rise from behind me and lit up the road for me. Before I knew it, I had to switch off my headlights and I had to drive slowly past dog walkers, early morning cyclists and a few hackers on their horses.

As hours passed and more and more music played on the radio, trees passed, fields flew past like birds and plenty of farm animals had me guessing what animal I would see in a field next. Signs on the motorway pointed out that I had to turn off soon.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tock.

My car signals that I am turning off down onto the bendy A roads that are two lanes wide. More signs point me out to where I am heading. A big posh sign leads me down a long windy country road that's bumpy and full of pot holes. 

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