How old are you?
She stared at me. You’ve lost weight. It was a statement, not a question.
Hey Betty, you sexy beast! laughed the Tired Boy.
Later the Tired Boy was stroppy, lolling around on the floor in the manner of a five year old, rather than the fifteen year old he is.
How old are you?
I’m tired, he whinged.
They have exams coming up. They’re limited in what they can take (English Language, and Maths) at GCSE, but in the main they like the fact that they can achieve something, even if it’s not their full potential. And let’s be honest - many of them left their full potential sitting crumpled in a corner when they started being all silly in mainstream school.
They know that. And often they want to show that they are capable, that they’re not just teenage wastes of space.
Which is why it’s so irksome when the intelligent Tired Boy prefers to idly lounge around instead of working.
Tsk.
