Grades in Flames [boyxboy]

Chapter 1

Hello, everyone! This is my first time writing a story like this, so excuse me if it's a bit sloppy/cliché at times. I'm writing for practice so, please, do leave some constructive criticism.

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DOUGLAS

I was sat in the head Headteacher's office, again, after I was called out of my lesson. I wasn't fazed in the slightest—I just figured that I'd probably done something naughty again. I mean, I've been sent here so many times over the past 5 years that my ass has been perfectly dented into the couch in her office.

I glanced around at everything but the middle-aged woman in front of me. I knew this office like the back of my hand: the garish blue curtains which were brighter than the sun (and my future) that they were trying to block out, the same, dull grey carpet that could be found in every other classroom, the plastic filing cabinets, the modest, wooden desk she usually sat at, and...Ooh. A new stapler—that wasn't here yesterday, I thought, and also thought about saying out loud, but I wasn't prepared to have the shrill lecture I was being given to be replaced by an even shriller, louder lecture.

To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure why I was here. The only thing I'd registered in the past 5 minutes (apart from the new stapler) was the boy sitting next to me. Normally, I wouldn't have noticed him since he was so quiet but it was slightly hard for my eyes to just pass over him since his hair looked like a traffic cone—in colour, not in shape. I was confused as to why he was here as well; I wouldn't peg him as the type to get into trouble. However, he wasn't in my class so I didn't really know what he was like. The only thing I remembered about him was making him do my maths homework a few times back in year 9. I didn't keep it up, though; he'd just go along with it without any sort of amusing reaction—I got bored of him.

"...And that's why I've decided that it would be more beneficial for you to have a peer tutor. Now, I've already discussed this over the phone with your mother and we've both agreed that Elliot will be tutoring you in and out of school until you've improved enough to be able to pass your maths and science GCSEs," Mrs Wilson seemed to conclude, brushing her short, dyed-blonde hair behind her shoulders.

I jumped to my feet in protest. "What?!" I hadn't exactly been listening the whole time, but I didn't think that this would be the reason I was called into the Headteacher's office.

I glanced over at Elliot and grimaced. He just looked so... meek. The words 'Elliot will be tutoring you in and out of school' kept echoing in my mind. "Are you serious? Aren't there, like, any girls that can tutor me? I'm sure that I'd be much more distracted by Elliot—since we're both boys—and would learn nothing since me and him would spend the whole time talking because we've obviously got... so much... in common..." Looking at his deadpan face, I could hardly finish with the same steam I started off with. I didn't need Mrs Wilson's reply to confirm that my bluff had failed as soon as it had started.

"This is serious, Douglas. Your GCSEs are four months away. This isn't some kind of game anymore; you need to grow up. If you don't do well, you are going to mess up the rest of your life," she said heavily, staring directly into my eyes.

Out of desperation, I made a last-ditch attempt to try and save myself from my predicament, "How'm I s'posed to spend time around this melt?"

Elliot said nothing, which he seemed to be good at so far. Mrs Wilson didn't understand my slang—God, Elliot'd probably be the kind of person to call it 'short language' instead—but could deduce enough from my tone to know that it wasn't a good thing.

Mrs Wilson inhaled slowly, trying to control her anger. The smile she put on was faker than the plants in her office. She turned to carrot-head next to me, "You can leave now," she said, and when I tried to stand up as well, she added, "Not you, Mr Davies." If her voice were a person, it'd have a vice grip around my throat.