Nathan didn’t mind detention when Simon was there too, even though it meant he missed kicking the footy around with his mates and his usual sneaky ciggy behind the bike sheds with Taylor.
They’d played up in fourth period maths, and now the two of them were alone in the classroom until Ms Dean returned at the halftime bell to check if they were done. Nathan would’ve been finished ages ago if it weren’t for his too frequent glances at Simon, who had slid so far down in the chair his butt was on the edge of the seat.
‘Aren’t you going to do anything?’ Nathan asked.
Simon shrugged. ‘She just said we had to finish, not that it needed to be correct. I’ll scribble down some numbers when the bell rings. I’m in no hurry.’
A ghost of smile.
Nathan closed his book.
