Bolton sighed as he sat down in the empty canteen, a plate of toast in his hand. He'd been in the school gym since 7AM, throwing punch after punch at the boxing bag until he couldn't concentrate anymore. When the school bell had started to ring to signal the start of morning lessons, he had decided to take a break. That was why he was sat in the canteen, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Bolton wasn't the type to be nervous. Today seemed to be an exception. It was a big day. Not just for him, but for Mr Cleaver. It was his time to show off what he had been taught. If he won the UK Championships, it would mean so much to both of them. He couldn't let him down.

Whilst he felt ready for his match, he was still incredibly nervous. It was one of those situations where doing his best wouldn't be good enough. He needed to do more than his best, he needed to win. He had a lot of people relying on him to make them proud today. Janeece, his Mum, Mr Cleaver, Mr Lawson, Miss Mason. The whole school was rooting for him and he was determined to win.

Of all the people he owed this win to, it was Miss Mason. She had supported him from her first day at Waterloo Road. She had listened to him and given him a second chance. If it wasn't for her, he would probably be on the streets or behind bars right now. He certainly wouldn't be doing his A-levels or competing in the UK Boxing Championships. He could never repay her for what she'd done for him. If he could win and make her proud, then that was enough for him.

But what if he didn't?

What if he lost the match?

What if he wasn't good enough?

The thought made him feel sick. He could already see the look of disappointment on Mr Cleaver's face. He'd been pestering him most of the morning, criticising his every punch, sighing like he just wasn't good enough.

What if he wasn't?

What if he was physically ready, but not mentally? The mental aspect of boxing was just as important as the physical. What if he just wasn't quite there yet?

He wished he hadn't been so caught up with the situation between him and Earl. It would have given him more time to focus and prepare. Whilst he was relieved it was over and that he'd made his statement and signed the affidavit, he wished he'd not been such a coward and had done it all a long time before now. Then maybe he would feel more prepared for what he was going to face this afternoon.

He wished he'd gone to sleep earlier last night too. He probably wouldn't feel as tired as he currently did. But even though he'd gone to bed at 11pm, his mind was racing and sleep had eluded him.

He sighed as Mr Cleaver sat down in the chair opposite him.

"You should have been back in the gym 20 minutes ago"

"Sorry, Sir" Bolton mumbled

Mr Cleaver sighed.

"What's the matter, Bolton? Are you nervous?"

Bolton shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

"Look, Bolton, nerves are a good thing, mate! As long as they don't affect your performance" Mr Cleaver reasoned

Bolton nodded quietly.

"You have to have this fight won in your head. If you doubt yourself, you're going to lose"

"I don't have any doubts" Bolton shot back defensively

"Are you sure about that?" Mr Cleaver challenged

"Yeah, I'm ready"

Mr Cleaver scoffed.

"Bolton, if you think you're ready, then you're not ready! All I'm seeing here is nerves! The second you step into that ring, you've got to convince yourself that you are ready!"

"I will be" Bolton told him plainly

"Yeah, you will be. You are the best young fighter in the UK, right?"

Bolton didn't answer.

"Yes?" Mr Cleaver prompted

"Yes, I hear you!" Bolton huffed

"Good. You've got the speed, you've got the agility, and you've got the strength. It's just your head. It's the mind that separates the great fighters from the good fighters"

Bolton nodded.

Mr Cleaver sighed. He needed Bolton to win this match. Before, he had been convinced that he would. Now he wasn't so sure. He couldn't have Bolton losing. It would damage his reputation. He needed to do everything he could to ensure it. He placed his hand on the bottle of pills in his pocket.

"Bolton, do you remember when I told you about the injury I had ten years ago?"

Bolton nodded.

"I was facing the biggest challenge of my career. I'd lost a lot of confidence and everything depended on this one race. So, I did the training and the preparation and, it was a second before the start... and..."

"What happened?" Bolton prompted

"I bottled it... I was focussed on the prize, not the task ahead of me"

Bolton smirked.

"For real? You bottled it?"

"Yes. Do you see what I'm saying? You are so close, you can smell it! The only thing that's stopping you is you!"

Bolton sighed. He knew he was right. Everyone was rooting for him. Everyone believed in him. He just needed to trust and believe in himself.

"I only got about two hours sleep last night" he admitted

"That doesn't matter. Mate, this is the biggest moment of your life! If you win, that's it- you've got the lot. But if you lose... it's no prospects, no..."

"I don't want that" Bolton mumbled

"Great athletes in any sport always have nerves. But they get help"

"How do you mean?" Bolton frowned

"Well, they use... science- perfectly legal medical science"

Bolton watched as he placed the bottle of pills on the table. He didn't understand.

"These work by triggering the pituitary gland in the brain to release endorphins"

Bolton's brow furrowed even further. Biology had always gone straight to his head.

"It's the chemical the body produces when you exercise. It's kind of like a natural pain relief. So they'll help you with your concentration levels. They'll keep you calm and focussed" Mr Cleaver explained

Bolton eyed the bottle of pills suspiciously. He wasn't entirely convinced. He trusted Mr Cleaver's words, and he needed all the help he could get to calm his nerves. But was this really the right way?

"You take two of these and in twenty minutes, you'll feel different"

"Twenty minutes?" Bolton checked, still a little sceptical

"Trust me, Bolton. You'll feel invincible"

Bolton sighed, taking the bottle into his hand. If he wanted to win, he'd need this. He had everything else; it was just his mind that needed sharpening and focussing. If these could help him, it would be worth it. He couldn't let anyone down. If he didn't take them and he lost, he'd regret it for the rest of his life.

He unscrewed the cap, tipping two of the small, round tablets into his hand. With an encouraging nod from Mr Cleaver, he swallowed them with a glass of water.

...

It was another ten minutes of waiting before Rose finally stepped into the office. Rachel watched as Tom stood up, swallowing the lump in his throat. Tom had been right, Rose clearly wasn't aware of the situation she was now in. No one who was being evicted from their home would smile like that.

The younger woman frowned at the two of them, wondering why the Head Teacher and her next door neighbour looked so worried. Her mind started racing, her heart plummeting into her stomach.

One of the kids had done something. She knew it. She was never called up here for any other reason.

She didn't know why but her money was on Denzil. It was his first day back and it wasn't unusual for him to act up when in a new and unfamiliar environment. She'd hoped he would settle on his own. He had been nervous to come back, but she was adamant that he would be fine and that he was ready. This was the next step forward for him. Clearly she'd been wrong.

"Has Denzil got himself in trouble already?"

"No, Rose. Why don't you come and sit down?" Rachel suggested

Rose nodded quietly, taking the seat next to Tom. She was still nervous, but at least for now, Denzil was behaving. That left the potential for one of her other kids to be in trouble. It had to be Sam. Marley was too grown up to misbehave.

Rachel cleared her throat before speaking.

"Rose-uhm- there's no easy way of telling you this... The Council are evicting you"

Rose frowned at her.

"How do you know? Who told you?"

"I saw them this morning. They were boarding up the front door" Tom explained, showing her the piece of paper which had the eviction notice printed on it

Rose shot him a glare. This was his fault. He'd wanted to push her and her family out for months now.

"Are you happy now?" she snarled, snatching the eviction notice out of his hand

She looked down at the piece of paper, her eyes widening in panic. Just when she'd thought it couldn't get any worse.

" 'All valuables and possessions have been removed from the property', where's all our stuff?!" she cried

Rachel could only shoot Rose a look of sympathy. If she knew what she could do to help, she would do it in an instant. The Kelly family had been through enough the last few weeks. Being homeless a few days before Christmas was the last thing that they needed.

"There's a phone number on the..." Tom mumbled, trailing off as Rose silenced him with a glare

"A number? A number? YOU PUT MY FAMILY ON THE STREETS!"

Rachel stood up, pulling Rose away as she started erratically hitting Tom.

"Rose, calm down! Tom is trying to help you!" she reasoned

Rose scowled at her.

"Help?! Don't make me throw up! He's been phoning the Council, signing petitions and all sorts! You wanted us to be kicked out!"

"I am not responsible for getting you evicted! But I regret what's happened and I want to help you and your family!" Tom argued

Rose scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Tom is offering to take you to the Housing Association, Rose. He'll put in a good word for you. Come on, it's worth a shot!" Rachel added

Rose shook her head in disbelief.

"Look, come on. They'll cover for you in the kitchen. Staying around here isn't going to solve the problem" Tom huffed, making his way out of the office

Rachel offered Rose a reassuring smile.

"Just give it a chance, Rose, yeah?"

Rose rolled her eyes before following Tom out the door.