Chapter 3Adrian
I really should concentrate on the homework assignments. It doesn’t do to correct them half-heartedly.
But it’s impossible to concentrate when he’s in the room. I suppose he has a certain routine, and on Friday afternoons he does maintenance in the year two classroom. Fixing chairs, repairing the dripping faucet (I never noticed the faucet dripping; but he said it was, and he should know), little things like that.
Spraying the hinges of the cupboard doors doesn’t even take a minute, and when he’s done, he turns around and sees me looking at him.
It’s not entirely my fault. He’s wearing jeans that cling to his backside, and his shirt sleeves are rolled up revealing more tattoos. His favourite screwdriver, the one he always has on him, the one with the wooden handle that
