September sixth. Move in day at Bloxham co-educational boarding and day school. Bloxham was a small sixth form school, located just outside of Banbury. It was a relatively isolated place about three hours north of Teignmouth, where Matt grew up, and had an emphasis on academics, sports and music. And attitude apparently, as the place boasted signs that read “A conspicuously happy school “on every corner. “What kind of fucking slogan is that?” Matt muttered to himself. “Let’s puke unicorns and rainbows! Yay! I swear, they’ve chosen this place specifically as a torture device.” Matt had been sent to Bloxham for “delinquent behaviour.” Well it wasn’t his fault Teignmouth was a hellhole drug trap. Nor was it his fault that the mayor of the city didn’t seem to give a rat’s arse for the youth of the city. Maybe if he’d been older and able to be politically active in choosing who ran the city, he wouldn’t have had to resort to pranks and rebellion. His friend Dom had warned him to just let it go, that he’d get himself in trouble and screw things up for the band. That the best he could do for himself was keep himself away from the drugs and not get involved in the mayor’s business. But Matt was hard-headed and didn’t listen and his last act of rebellion had landed him in jail for a night and the next day arrangements to be shipped off to boarding school had been made. Off to the conspicuously happy school where his anger problems would be properly dealt with. All he really needed was to be surrounded by good attitudes, people had insisted. They’ve downright murdered me, Matt thought dramatically as he flopped face down on the bare mattress of his new bed. He didn’t want to think about Chris and Dom’s reaction to the news of him being shipped off. It hadn’t been pleasant. There was disappointment but also sadness. “Don’t replace me,” Matt had said. “I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll get kicked out and then they’ll have to send me back to this hellhole.” He had to admit, he’d rather be in Teignmouth than here. They hadn’t even had the decency to send him to London. This place was bigger than Teignmouth, and there wasn’t as much of a drug problem here. But it gave the aura of suburbia and he was not a fan. He made no moves to unpack his things, however. He didn’t plan on staying long enough for that to be necessary, no matter what other people thought. But for now, he wanted to do nothing more than mope in his room with the door closed, and stay away from all those Brummies who wanted to be here.