A tense silence fills the room as the clomp of Brother Bennett’s boots fades along the hallway. The two older boys stare at me sourly. I try my best to appear untroubled, but I can’t help squirming in my seat a little.
“So…” I say, and pause to clear my throat. “I actually go by Will, not William. Just so you know.”
“Does it look like we give a s**t?” The kid called Donald sneers at me. “But just so you know, I go by Molloy, not Donald. Got it?”
youI return his stare for a few seconds and look away. “Sure,” I mutter. “Anything else I need to know?”
“Yeah, shut your mouth and open your bag.” The skinhead, Shane, folds his arms across his chest. He nods toward my suitcase on the floor beside Brother Bennett’s desk.
“Huh?” My forehead wrinkles in a frown. “Why?”
“So we can check it, dum
