The next day was Thursday, and Charlie was starting school. He didn't want to. He wanted to learn and he wanted space from his grandparents, but school seemed like such a big, complicated thing. How could he ever be ready for something like that? He fiddled with the stiff collar of his button up uniform shirt as his grandma led him to his homeroom classroom.

"You'll be fine," she assured him. "If you choose to apply yourself, I'm sure you'll do very well. Your mother was so intelligent. If she hadn't let herself get distracted by the wrong things she could have done anything she wanted."

But instead she had me, Charlie supplied in his mind. He knew how disapproving his grandma had been about that, how she had believed choosing to have Charlie was what had destroyed his mum's life. He remembered. He kept his head down and stayed silent until they reached the classroom and she said her goodbyes.

Inside the classroom was a chaotic mess of sound as students talked to each other, raising their voices to be heard over everyone else, and the bright fluorescent lights made Charlie squeeze his eyes shut against their glare. He found a desk in the corner and curled in on himself, doing his best to hide from the turmoil, but a few minutes later he felt a hand tap his arm. He made a grumbling sound and flinched away.

"Dude, move," a voice said. "This is my seat. Find somewhere else."

Charlie stood and moved a few seats down, but before he could sit a girl stuck out her hand and waved him away. "This seat's taken."

Charlie bit down on the inside of his cheek. How was he supposed to know which seats were truly free? He went and stood in the corner of the room and waited as the classroom filled up, then quickly claimed one of the few empty desks near the front of the classroom when the teacher walked in.

The teacher pointed his pen in Charlie's direction as he settled in behind his desk. "You're new."

Charlie wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a question, but he nodded anyway.

"Name?" the teacher asked.

"Charlie."

"Uh huh," the teacher said as he wrote that down. "And last name?"

"Brooks," Charlie said without thinking. That was his father's last name. He doubted that was what his grandma had registered him under. "Or, um, Wallace?" That was his grandparents last name, the last name his mum had used.

The teacher eyed Charlie for a moment before jotting something down. "Well, I'm Mr Mason, your homeroom teacher. I hope you enjoy your first day here."

Charlie just stared back for too long before murmuring a barely audible, "Thank you." Was that the right thing to say? It didn't feel right.

The teacher's attention shifted away from Charlie after that as he began doing roll call and then reading the morning notices. Charlie did his best to pay attention to what the teacher was saying, but the words that flooded his mind didn't fall together to form anything meaningful.

Once homeroom was dismissed, Charlie was left with a list of his classes and a map of the school and was expected to use the two to somehow end up where he was supposed to be next within the space of five minutes. It was an impossible task, but he knew without asking that nobody in his homeroom would share his next class. He'd done badly enough on his geography placement exam that he'd ended up in a grade eight class.

By the time Charlie found the right building and then the right classroom within it, twenty minutes had passed and the grounds were quiet, everyone else already in class. All eyes were on Charlie as he entered the room, the teacher's included as she waited for him to be seated. Ms Milligan, according to Charlie's schedule.

"You're late," Ms Milligan said once Charlie had found somewhere to sit. He'd wanted to hide near the back, but the only free spots were in the front row. Ms Milligan's grey flecked brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun and the pattern of wrinkles on her face suggested she spent a lot of time scowling, just like she was now.

"I couldn't find the room," Charlie murmured. He'd spoken quietly, but his voice carried in the silence of the room.

"Then you should have asked someone for directions," she told him. "Open your book to page thirty three. Before you interrupted we were..."

Charlie flipped to the correct page in the book, but he couldn't follow what Ms Milligan was saying. She was right, Charlie should have asked for help, but from who and how? People always acted like these things were easy, but they weren't. Not for Charlie.

Ms Milligan pulled down an unmarked map of Australia over the blackboard and began calling students up one at a time to put markers on certain cities and landmarks. Charlie startled when his name was called.

"Sydney," Ms Milligan said, holding a marker out to Charlie.

Charlie froze. He knew where Sydney was. Didn't he? He was fairly sure he did. But what if he was wrong? It was one of the easiest locations, a major city. What if he got it wrong in front of all the other students? Ms Milligan waved the marker insistently in Charlie's direction and Charlie shook his head rapidly.

"You're telling me you don't know where Sydney is?" Ms Milligan asked.

Charlie gave an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders in response. His throat had closed up. He couldn't form words.

"You should at least try," Ms Milligan said, but Charlie just shook his head again. He shoved his knuckles in his mouth and bit down. Ms Milligan sighed loudly. "Eliza, can you find Sydney for me, please?"

The rest of the class passed in a blur. Charlie drew patterns in his notebook, checkers and spirals, keeping part of himself moving so that he wouldn't find himself chewing on his knuckles every time he got distracted. By the time class finished, Charlie felt lost. He stood outside the classroom and looked between his schedule and his map, completely unable to make any kind of sense of them. He didn't notice the girl leaning over his shoulder until she spoke.

"It's just the next building over," the girl told him, pointing.

Charlie stared at her, stunned, for slightly too long before following her finger. "Oh."

She nodded, her eyes drifting to the building before cutting back to Charlie. "Well, good luck."

And then she walked away. Charlie stood there staring at her as she walked away for several long moments before his brain kicked back into gear. Right. He had English next, and now he even knew more or less where he had to go. He hurried in the direction the girl had indicated.

Charlie made it to class before the teacher and found a spot near the back. The room was still half empty of students, but it was filling up quickly. Despite the gaps in Charlie's knowledge, he'd made it into a grade ten class for English. The teacher who had explained his exam results had told him he had a good grasp of the basics.

Charlie hoped to go unnoticed in this class, but as soon as everyone had settled down the teacher, Ms Lawson according to Charlie's schedule, pointed to Charlie and gave him a smile.

"Charlie, right?" Ms Lawson asked, and Charlie nodded. "Would you like to introduce yourself to the class, Charlie?"

For a moment Charlie just stared, wide eyed. How did you introduce yourself to a class? Charlie wasn't even sure how to do it to one person. It had been a question, though, he realised. One for which 'no' was a possible answer. He gave Ms Lawson a firm shake of his head.

Ms Lawson laughed, though Charlie didn't see how his response had been funny, and picked a book up off her desk. "All right, let's get started then. Here, you can borrow my copy of the assigned reading book until I can get a hold of a copy for you."

Ms Lawson didn't call on Charlie to answer any questions like the other teacher had, but she did keep him on edge by constantly drawing attention to him. Explaining things to him in particular to get him caught up as the class discussed the latest chapter in the book, telling him that he could catch up with the reading in his own time. It was kind, friendly, considerate, and Charlie could barely focus on what was going on around him because of how nervous the attention made him. He wanted nothing more than to be forgotten.

When the bell rang for lunch, Charlie wasn't hungry at all. At least it would give him time to find his next classroom so he wouldn't be late. After he did that, he didn't really know where to go or what to do. He had an hour for lunch and no one to spend it with.

Charlie was wandering around looking for somewhere quiet to sit outside when he heard the first few notes of a song played on an acoustic guitar amplified across the school grounds. Something tightened in Charlie's chest as he headed towards the sound, seeking out the source of the comforting music.