"Bailey?"

"Here."

"Bates?"

"Here, Sir."

"Brown?"

"Here."

There was a momentary pause that was almost unnoticeable to those not waiting for it.

"Cornish?"

"Here," I smiled. He gave a brief smile back, merely a twitch of the lips but there none the less. The roll call continued as though no such moment had passed. The whole class must have noticed it. Mr Walker was known for being easily swayed by a cheeky smile and a willing attitude.

"So, boys, did everyone finish their essays, yes, good. Alright then I'll collect them from you now."

There was the noisy shuffling of papers and of the usually elusive stapler as we passed our papers to the front, most of them in an unreadable scrawl, scratched hastily into the paper only a matter of hours ago.

He set about giving us a rather menial task, simply to give him the class time to mark and ensure he was able to go home early. I thought it strange that the teachers at Leythe were the only ones with any sort of connection to the outside world. It was heavily frowned upon by the school but on occasion a teacher would take pity on some of us and drive us to the local chip shop at weekends.

The class went by relatively quickly as we sat reading. One of my favourite parts of class. There were no class bells at Leythe, you just somehow had to know where you had to be and when.

"Mr Cornish, a word please."

I liked Mr Walker from the first day he had taken over our class. He was young and quite handsome as well as being witty and kind.

"Yes Sir?"

I shifted my weight to one foot and fluttered my eyelashes in a well practiced manner.

"I've marked your essay," he said as he held it out to me across the desk. "Have a seat," he went on severely. My stomach jolted a little. I did as I was told and sat at the table nearest his desk. He surveyed me over his fingertips from his hands joined under his chin.

"You're a clever boy Tim," he smiled.

"Sir?"

"Your writing has a very natural flair to it. Have you ever considered studying English?"

I stared down at my shoes.

"No, not really. I haven't thought of it much."

"Hmm," he hummed to himself and shifted back in his chair.

"Well," he said cheerily. "Perhaps you will have a think about it."

"Yes Sir."

He gave a brief nod and furrowed his brows, deep in thought.

"Now to the real matter at hand," he gave a tentative smile.

I smiled at him in return and he gave a half grimace and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Tim, I need you to tell me what's going on."

I couldn't process his request fast enough and so there was a silence that dragged on for quite some time.

"Pardon?"

"I want to be able to help you Tim, and I can only do that if you tell me what is going on between you and the other boys. Is it bullying," he asked in a voice of genuine concern. I almost wanted to laugh out loud but I was too shocked for my body to allow that.

"I...no Sir," I replied.

"For a boy who doesn't play sports you have an awful lot of bruises," he said quietly.

I tried to swallow the horrible, aching lump that had formed in my throat and the room suddenly seemed a lot smaller than what it had a few minutes ago.

"That's...it's just from messy around," I replied with a grin. "It's nothing like that."

I saw his eyes dart to my neck around my shirt collar and I could feel my muscles tense up automatically.

"Messing around," he repeated, looking doubtful. "Some of the boys appear to be quite..protective of you, in a way," he mused. "Are they your friends," he probed.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Very well," he replied sadly.

"Anyway, I have something for you," he continued with a smile at me. He really was quite handsome. He searched through his desk drawer to find a small copy of 'The Red Pony'.

"There is a new book shop that's opened in the town, I go there on Wednesday afternoon's when I get the chance. I tend to buy so many books that carrying them to the car can be a bit of a nuisance so I was thinking of asking a pupil to come along with me. If you have the time I'd appreciate your help Tim. Your opinion would be a great help to me."

I stroked my thumb over the shiny new cover of the book and smiled, a sense of pride within me.

"Yeah, okay."

He nodded gently.

"You can read any of the books that I buy on the condition that you write me an essay on them, does that sound fair to you?"

"Yes Sir."

He stood to open the classroom door for me.

"Good, I expect your first essay by the end of the week," he gave a genuine smile with a nod towards the book in my hand. I laughed.

"Yes Sir," I said as I left.

"Oh and Tim?"

I paused in the doorway.

"What?"

"Good work."

I smiled at him, probably in a way that I hadn't smiled at anyone in quite some time.