Sybil smiled as she walked down the corridor at school smiling at the various people she knew or those who just smiled at her. She was heading to the common room to spend her free with he best friends, dawdling as she knew a set of sofas would have been easily secured by her group of friends. She was part of the 'elite' year 12s In her sixth form whom everyone idolised. They were popular, but in the cases of most of her friends they were damn right bitchy and backstabbers. It was a wonder to everyone how Sybil, kind sweet natured Sybil, would fit into such a group. Seeing her friends laughing away on a bunch of sofas she waved before hurrying over to greet them all. Rushing through the study area of the common room she passed various other cliques. There were the fan girls all sat at one table chatting about the latest plot lines in Tv programmes and films. Then there were the science geek guys sat at another table. There were the chatter boxes on another and the indie, hipster kids to her left. Then there was another boy. He was sat quietly on his own, working away. She'd noticed him before and he always seemed to be working. He wasn't part of her group, he most certainly wasn't popular. Her friends would mock him, putting on an Irish accent and then saying something crude. Sybil laughed like all the others but really it was just so they didn't mock her or try and make out she was in love with him or something.

Tom knew they made fun of him. He would see them look in his direction and then burst into laughter. He tried to pretend it didn't bother him but it did. He looked up from his politics essay at the group sat on the sofa, they were looking at him. He sighed looking back down at his work and pushed his glasses on further. There was a burst of laughter. It was his own fault really, why he chose the common room to work instead of the library he had no idea. Deciding that his politics essay was getting him no where he put it back in his bag and pulled out the accounting book for the company he worked for, the pay was shit but it was a job right?

Tom shrunk further behind his desk as His colleagues asked him for about the sixth time that month whether or not he'd come out for a drink with them now that work was over.
"I'm sorry" he said looking at his desk, "I'm..."
"Busy, right we get it" snarled Thomas, "What a 17 year old has to keep him so busy I have no idea" he mumble grumpily.
Tom rubber his hands over his eyes frustrated. It's not that he didn't want to go out with them. He genuinely couldn't. He sighed, getting up and putting his coat on. There was no point in waiting around, he had stuff to do. He always had stuff to do. He grabbed for his tatty school bag (how it hadn't fallen apart yet he didn't have a clue) and buttoned up his light coat before heading out into the harsh winds to collect his younger brother's from school and prayed that Meara had walked home with her friends and was revising. He had big hopes for her, his little genius was the affectionate nickname he gave her. He wanted her to become a nurse or a doctor, he wanted her to make something of herself. To have a good future...

Sybil hopped out of the car and hurried to the door flying past the butler with a friendly "Afternoon Carson" scurrying towards the staircase and running up it. Everyone thought she was posh and rich because they had a butler, cook, housekeeper and kitchen maid... But that was all, only a few generations a go they had a house full of staff but not any more, she didn't feel like an Earl's daughter and nor did want people to refer to her as Lady Sybil. Running into her room she grabbed her gym bag and iPod and scurried back down the stairs and out the door to the car. She was going to be late for her dance class. Hitting shuffle she closed her eyes, resting her head against the seat. She always prepared this way for dance lessons, just her in her own little world with the music blaring out. That's why she wasn't paying attention as the driver sped down the street. The rain was thick and fast now and large puddles littered the roads. The driver was her friend Larry from school, he was supposed to be in year 13 but had retaken the year because of his poor grades. He would always give her a lift on his own way home. Just then Larry saw a figure on the footpath, a figure with auburn hair and that tatty bag he'd seen around school. Smiling smugly to himself Larry swerved slightly into the large puddle on the side of the road. The water flew up in the air, soaking the young man and leaving Larry cackling evily. Sybil was none the wiser as she sat their humming along to the tunes on her iPod...

Tom sighed as he turned back in the direction of the school. Why did people have to be such jerks? Whoever the driver was he'd soaked him, but then again the swerve was intentional... Couldn't anything go right for him? Couldn't, just for once, his luck and fortune change?

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