Secondary school was a challenge. They were honest to god terrified; everyone seemed older and as soon as they stepped in…they were labeled as geeks. Connor was thankful, though, that Tom and him shared most of the same classes. Especially lunch where they could talk about Battle Star Galatica theories and talk about The Doctor as if he was real.
After adjusting to the schedules, learning how to avoid bullies, and finding new ways to get excused from gym, their first year went okay. Maybe it wasn't the worst thing they'd endured, but they sure liked exaggerating the agony of it.
It was the end of the year when they experienced their first fight. It wasn't the worst fight in history and it surely wouldn't be their last, but neither of those factors really excused the loneliness Tom felt after spending a day without him.
"Connor, come on, I really need the fiver!" Tom begged, rolling his eyes at his friend's reluctance to give it to him. "Do you want the Doctor Who book or not?"
"I do—I just mean…I can't give you this." Connor's eyebrows knitted together in frustration and he dug his hands into his pockets. Couldn't this boy get it through his head that no meant no?
"Why not? You have two in your hand right now and it'd really be nice of you to lend me something once in awhile. You never have,"
"You don't understand, Tom. You have money to throw around, I don't!"
"I'm not askin' for a hundred pounds, I'm asking for five!"
"And yesterday, my mum needed just five more pounds to buy dinner…and we didn't have it!"
Tom frowned and realization hit him hard. He'd picked a bone he never picked before and he turned around. "Uh, yeah, sorry, mate…I'll see you later, okay?"
"Sure."
Connor ignored him the next day and Tom failed his history test and for once didn't care.
Of course the next day as soon as the two made eye contact, apologies spilled out of both of their mouth's so fast that they weren't sure they heard anything except 'sorry'