Young.
Summary: Milky and Woody meet aged 11.
Chris picks at his uniform, it's well fitting but for the blazer which is only slightly too big. His mum determines he'll grow into it, especially with the self defence classes he's been going to at the community hall. He's glad for the classes because high school was rough, his elder brother hated it. At least he knew how to defend himself. He was an easy target too, short and black, especially round here. It's not that everyone was a racist but almost everyone would follow a leader. First days were awful and staring nervously in the bus window reflection wasn't helping. It was the first time he'd taken the bus to school, he walked to primary school with his siblings and uncle who'd then walk on to the factory. He was apprehensive when a bunch of lads got on the bus and went and sat at the very back of the top deck. He was sat near the stairs as to avoid trouble with the teens that did that.
It didn't take long for another group of high school students to hop on the bus. Chris watched them out of the corner of his eye, subtly. A thin boy with black, short hair got on. He seemed to be a first year too, big blazer over a nicely fitted uniform. He had long spindly limbs and a thin face. He sat down behind Chris, his backpack slung onto the second seat as the kid thunked back, his head twisted to the side to stare out the window, Chris could see him in the reflection on the glass. However, that also meant he could be seen.
"What are you looking at?" The boy asks, but it surprises Chris because instead of a surly attitude the other boy says it teasingly. It's good-natured too.
"Sorry" Chris apologises, he knows it was rude to stare. The other boy smiles so Chris twists in his seat to look at him properly.
"Don't do that, nowt wrong with just looking. No harm done, ey?"
"No... I'm Chris."Chris introduces himself and, because he'll soon be a man, offers his hand.
"Richard. But call me Woody, Richard's a bit stuffy." Woody takes his hand with a firm shake. Chris nods and smiles curiously.
"Why Woody?"
"Last name is Woodford." Woody groused but Chris didn't think it was that bad. "What about you, what's your last name?"
"Michaels" Chris volunteered since Woody seemed alright, and was the first person to talk to him. He hoped they had some classes together.
"Are you in your first year?" Woody asked, leaning forwards a bit.
Chris nodded and repeated the question. Woody nodded too and they spoke about how different it would be to primary school. As it turned out, they got on rather well. Woody's parents were equally as loving and attentive as Chris's but unlike Chris, who liked the attention, Woody hated it. Woody was an only child so maybe he hated it because it was always focused on him. Woody hated PE, except football, because he thought it was pointless whereas Chris preferred it to other lessons. Both agreed school was horrid though and that they both planned to leave as soon as possible.
They kept on talking as they got off the bus, and they tried to find the hall together. With a bit of fussing and quiet swearing they found it and ambled in for the new students assembly and to be sorted into form groups. Unfortunately they were separated. Woody got Mr Taylor and Chris got Mrs Conway.
It didn't matter though, they had similar time tables and they could always meet up at break and dinner so Chris had no fears of being lonely anymore.