It was the last week of February, and four weeks into first semester. Tristram was fifteen years old and in year ten at Bairnsdale Secondary College. Most of the time he was a happy student who did well at school. Today, however, he was petrified.
Dear Lord, give me courage…
Dear Lord, give me courageThe English class went on about him with its usual raucous hum, oblivious to the spectacle that he was about to create.
Mrs. O’Malley blinked reproachfully at her students. She was a plump, neurotic woman on the brink of old age and a nervous breakdown. Her appearance hinted at what she used to look like in her youth and what she would look like as an elderly person. Her hair was long and exhausted and not quite blonde anymore. Eyes once wide, blue, and vivacious, were now dull, petulant an
