The smell of the cigarette hung in the air on that cold, crisp morning. Sneaking round the back of the school bike shed, he saw David, Samuel and Jessica leaning against the wall – trying their best to act nonchalant in the face of certain discipline for their actions.

A small wave, trying to maintain an air of cool (as if anyone really knew what cool was these days), and he joined them, taking the cigarette quickly out of Jessica’s hands – drawing deep on it, tasting the artificial strawberry of her body shop lip balm, followed by the sickening hit of nicotine and tar. David, as usual was lost in his own thoughts – usually Latin or Greek, but Samuel was chatty – some people had no respect for Monday mornings.

The distant sound of the bell pulled them all to their senses, and they slipped carefully back towards the school, each one preparing for the classes they were going to have to endure teaching that day…