Michael didn't use to like school. He didn't cry or scream before he went, or cling on to his mum when they arrived at the school, but that didn't mean he wanted to be there. Michael felt lonely at school, even if he was surrounded by kids around his age. Michael was born in November and as a consequence of that, he had been put in a school year of mostly five-year-olds. The other kids were often spiteful because of this and the fact that he didn't have any friends didn't help.
Michael sighed as he stepped into his colourful classroom, the teacher greeting him. He hung his bag and his coat on the peg with his name sticker stuck above it on the wall. He sat down in the furthest corner of the big room, as he did every morning. There was a car play mat lying on the floor and cars were scattered all over it. Plastic storage boxes lined the wall and Michael was separated from the rest of the class by a small shelving unit. That was okay, though. That's how Michael liked it.
Michael whistled softly to himself as lined all the cars up in the car park on the playmat as he usually did; the big ones went at the back and the smaller ones were placed neatly in the front. The fire truck went in front of the fire station and the ambulance in front of the hospital. He leant back on his heels to admire his work, his whistling ceasing for a few seconds before leaning forward to play with the tiny vehicles. He whistled once again as he drove the little metal toys up and down the mat's roads, peaceful and content.
When Michael felt the presence of a person stood in the gap between the wall and the shelving unit, he didn't look up, assuming it was Miss Madeline who always came to check on him in the mornings. Usually, she tried to get him to play with the other kids, but Michael never did, content in staying in his own little bubble.
"I can't whistle but I wish I could."
Michael's head shot up like a bullet. He was surprised to make eye-contact with Delilah, the girl he had met in the park on Saturday. He frowned in confusion; he had never seen her in his class before.
Seeing that she was not going to receive a response, Delilah continued to speak. "Can I play with you?"
Michael nodded stiffly, moving over a little so that she had space to sit down beside him (that's where all the best cars were). Delilah skipped over and plonked herself down beside him, her legs crossed. As she began moving the cars, she glanced at Michael.
"You're probably wondering why you've never seen me before. I moved house." Michael nodded, her answer sufficient. "I haven't made many friends yet."
"I haven't got any," Michael mumbled.
Delilah frowned. "Don't be silly," she said, repeating something her mother had said to her many times. "I'm your friend!"
