With the sun splitting the sky today I thought it was about time to share some more work in progress. I’m currently about 1800 words into a story I’m calling “The First Summer of Love”.  It’s set in the latter half of the 1980s and concerns some teenage shennanigans. I’m not sure where the story is headed yet – so far it seems to be about friendship and girls…

Anyway, here’s a little taster from the first part…

The First Summer of Love

Time stood still in the classroom. The sun shone tantalising rays through the gaps in the blinds, striping the desks with shadows. Ally looked up at the clock again, it felt as if the hands had frozen at twenty-five past for over an hour now. The dust seemed to hang suspended in the stuffy air, petrified in the amber light coming through the windows. He looked over at Nicky sitting at the next desk and raised his eyebrows. Nicky held up his maths book so that Ally could see it.

This is shite! It said.

Ally grinned.

Outside the summer was waiting for them if only they could make it to lunchtime. Nicky had spoken to him at break and asked him if he fancied bunking off.

‘What if we get caught?’

‘Be serious,’ Nicky had laughed. ‘It’s the last day of term. Half the school has already gone off on holiday. They never chase you up for skiving it – the Truant Officer would be swamped.’

Ally had mulled the idea over. Nicky was probably right, but what if his mum and dad found out?

Nicky pulled a key from his pocket. ‘We can hide out at mine for a bit – my folks are both at work until after five so they’ll be none the wiser.’

Ally still looked undecided.

‘What if we get spotted legging it out the back gates or what if some of your neighbours see us and grass us up?’

Nicky considered this for a second.

‘Alright, tell you what, we can hang off until dinner time. No one is going to suspect anything dodgy is going on if we bugger off then – they’ll just think we’re going home for lunch.

Ally marvelled at his friends’ cunning.

‘Come on,’ Nicky told him. ‘You know you want to – it’s not like you’re going to miss anything important. It’s only going to be word searches and crap like that today.’

‘Aye, right enough I suppose.’

Nicky slapped him on the back.

‘That’s the stuff.  I’ve got Frogger for my Atari. We can play that for a bit if you like. You can see if you can beat my high score.’

‘You’re on.’

They’d gone back to class when the bell rang fired up with enthusiasm and keen to get double maths out of the way as soon as possible. However, as soon as they had stepped through the door of Mr Carmichael’s class time had seemed to slow to a standstill. Carmichael was part of the problem. He was a miserable old sod. Some of the younger teachers would cut you some slack on the last day of term and have a bit of a laugh with you but not Mr Carmichael. He seemed to take perverse pleasure in making sure that “proper” work was being done right up to the last bell of the day.

‘The holidays start at four o’clock,’ he had told them once everyone sat down. ‘After that you’ve got eight whole weeks to do whatever you want, but until then we are doing Algebra problems from the textbook.’

So now they sat ticking off the minutes until the bell. Ally looked at the clock again to see if it moved any further forward. The minute hand jerked to 26 minutes past. He blew air out through his teeth and glanced down at his book again and made a half hearted attempt at solving “a + 4b + 3a – 3b”

When am I ever going to need to use this shite? He thought.

‘Sir?’

It was Nicky’s voice.

‘What is it Thompson?’

‘Can we start packing up now please? The bell’s about to go in a minute.’

Carmichael raised an eyebrow.

Nicky pressed home his offensive allowing a pleading note to creep into his voice. ‘It’s the last day Sir.’

Everyone was now looking at the front desk, hands ready to drop pencils as soon as the word was given.

‘Oh for goodness sake, alright – but I want to see a neat pile of textbooks down here on the front desk before anybody sets a foot outside that door.’

It was 12.29.

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