Excerpt: Egghead

It started with a door. A pretty unspectacular one. It separated Mr Simons science classroom from the hallway. It was 50 per cent glass, fifty per cent wood and one hundred percent unremarkable. Alan was very comfortable with this door. They understood each other. The door was always open – and Alan always expected it to be open. The doors position – around a corner in an enclave – meant that a kind of athletic style wide-angled swing was required to get out of the corridor and into the classroom with maximum trajectory. Alan was very good at this. He was a good runner, long legged and long armed, and in his mind – monkey-agile. His entry into Mr Simons room was usually greeted with a cheer from the back row or a tentative high five from one of the more reticent kids in the front row. Alan never said no to a high five. He would high five anyone. He knew what it felt like to be left hanging, and he wasn’t the sort of kid to leave a brother hanging.