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[h3]Home to Homeroom[/h3][/center]

Thomas opened his eyes with a weary sigh. Yet another nearly sleepless night. He’d been laid there listening to the background noise of the TV for what felt like hours but checking his phone told him it’d only been about forty five minutes. He didn’t want to go to school today. He didn’t want to go to school ever again but what else was he going to do? He could try getting a job in some shop but he had his doubts about whether or not even that was plausible for him. He’d be deathly bored. Almost certainly even more so than he often was at school. Besides that he’d probably find it hard to keep from being fired. He just didn’t have it in him to act what he wasn’t feeling and since he was almost constantly in a somber, slightly pissed off, restless mood he had a lot of doubts about his customer service potential. It didn’t help that they apparently valued that crock of shit even more than they did back in the U.K.

Despite his reservations it didn’t take him too long to drag himself out of bed, wake Kas up, get a shower, brush his teeth, get dressed and smelling right, eat breakfast and chat casually to his mum for a few minutes. By the time he’d done all that Kas was ready as well, so they hit the road. Or the sides of the roads at least. One good thing about living in Arrowsmith is that they were never really far from anything. School was really close, being maybe a ten minute walk. With them being Londoners, the walk took maybe five minutes.

So there they sat in their homeroom, both of them having swaggered in with a mumbled greeting of morning towards their new tutor and both having picked seats near the back.  Neither of them were all too happy about being there. Kas seemed to perk up a little bit at finding out their tutor was in his words “reasonably peng”, but even that wasn’t enough to put his usually easy-grin on his face. When asked to draw they both got down to it, though Thomas did so begrudgingly, still not quite ready to face the start of the schooling day. Kas covered his in elaborate graffiti like designs, his name being written in various styles, as well as a piece for the last gang he’d been in back in England. Finally he drew a rather detailed combat knife, a kind of finish to his grand design. He smiled at it’s completion. Thomas on the other hand basically just scribbled his name and spent a few minutes doing various patterns. Nothing too elaborate, just lines to pass the time. When the order came to tear the paper up he did so without feeling anything but frustration, annoyed that’d he’d been drawn into such a thing for such a simple lesson, one he felt like he’d learned many years ago. To be fair, he had. One benefit of being raised by an extremely damaged woman and an extremely damaging man, he learned how easy it was to hurt people, and how many ways there were to. If you were kind that meant you became aware of how not to hurt, or at least wary of all the ways you could.

Kas on the other hand had the opposite reaction, screwing his face up at the order, muttering “fuck that” under his breath and folding his doodle page neatly in half. Slipping it into his pocket apparently unnoticed he smiled, not that it would matter much if anyone had seen. No one was making him destroy anything he cared about. Not on his or their life.

Over the next several minutes they both watched as people played the two truths, one lie game. When it came to Amelia's turn they both had exactly the same reaction and that was bewilderment. Her openness about her damage was alien to them. In England you kept that sort of shit pretty damn close. People generally didn’t want to know and you for the most part didn’t want to tell them. Good for her they both figured, one secret off her chest was likely to help her in the long run.