Study Group
Smiffy sat cross-legged on the carpet, highlighter uncapped, slowly turning the pages of a textbook he didn't recognise as his own. His broad shoulders hunched over the book, brows furrowed in deep, misplaced focus.
Toots was on the floor beside the coffee table, pen in one hand, half-eaten biscuit in the other, a textbook open on her lap.
"And so photosynthesis is… when carbon dioxide and water combine to make glucose and oxygen in the presence of light."
Her black hair fell messily around her face, a few strands caught on her lashes. She had soft delicate features with rosy lips and bright green eyes that were now twisted into a scowl as she flicked up now and then from her notes and something else.
She was watching Danny—not obviously. Just glancing now and then. The way his head had started to dip forward a little. The way his fingers had stopped moving over the page.
Danny was slouched sideways on the sofa, one leg hooked under him, school jumper pulled up over his mouth. His dark hair stuck up like he'd just rolled out of bed, and his eyes—when open—were a bright blue. His revision book was open, but his eyes were shut.
"You're not gonna remember anything like that," Toots said, not unkindly.
He didn't move. Just mumbled, "Was listening."
"You weren't."
Wilfred was perched on a beanbag near the radiator, flipping flashcards over too fast to actually read them. He looked like he was revising for a different subject every thirty seconds.
Sidney lay on the floor with his arms stretched out like he was sunbathing, one foot tapping restlessly. His faux hawk was flattened on one side from where he'd fallen asleep earlier. He hadn't brought a book. Or a pen.
"What even is this subject?" Smiffy asked, highlighting a whole block of text that turned out to be a diagram.
"Chemistry," Toots said.
"Oh." He nodded. "I thought it was French."
Danny made a sound behind his jumper. Could've been a laugh. Could've been him drifting further into sleep.
Wilfred sneezed. Sidney kicked the back of the sofa just to feel something.
Outside, someone was shouting on the football pitch, too far off to make out words. The window was cracked just enough to let in the chill.