Sam hated going in the car. In fact, he hated going outside the safe confines of the house at all. It was always warm and cosy inside and everybody who ever came in showed great interest in him; it made Sam feel like there were people who cared for him. Every time his mother broke the bad news to him that she was going out and they couldn't leave him alone in the house, a wave of anxiety would come over him. They would probably be 'popping to the shops' for several hours and the only treat he'd get at the end of it would be the cheapest available chocolate bar.

He looked out the window at the scenery rushing by. Tall skyscrapers that towered over the roads were all that really stood out to Sam. Everything else was so similar. They passed by other cars which all looked the same and hundreds of people were always walking around the city streets but they travelled too quickly for Sam to get a good look. With no exciting view to look at, Sam sighed and returned to his most hated task; trying to block out the sound of the world.

That's what was wrong with going outside. It was loud and noisy and smelly and none of the people were nice to him. The low rumble of the car engine and the noise that the air rushing past the vehicle made were evil noises trying to invade his head and all he wanted to do was sit and think quietly. He couldn't think properly when there was too much noise. He'd need to learn how to very quickly.

This situation was an excellent example. It had occurred to Sam on many occasions how strange a car was. It was a metal box with wheels that moved at incredible speeds when you pushed a pedal and then it stopped if you pushed another pedal. It struck him as incredibly peculiar and he wanted to figure out how it worked but every time he started thinking about it, the noise blocked his thoughts and now he was just left feeling unsatisfied. Maybe he'd look it up later but maybe that was too easy.

"Excited Sammy?" his mother asked. She was concentrating on driving so she didn't properly focus on conversation. She'd already asked him that yesterday.

"I suppose it's good to try new things," he responded, attempting to sound excited, however that sounded. It was allegedly an exciting day. His parents had finally decided to stop using tutors and they'd put him in a real school. It was a slight gamble on their part, entering him into A-levels without him even sitting GCSE's but both he and his tutors had felt that he had come far enough to take on the challenge. He relished a good challenge but perhaps this was a step too far. Only time would tell.

When they eventually made it to Goldenrod High School, Sam wasn't particularly impressed. It was a boring brick building with no exciting features to report. It was like a cuboid with windows and doors had fallen from the sky and somebody had figured it would make for a good school. He didn't really know what he'd been anticipating but a big grand portico would've looked nice. He didn't have long to dwell on that thought though, as he felt a satchel swing over his shoulder, his mother gave him a goodbye kiss and then he was alone. It was him against the school.

He slowly made his way inside, following a tour guide, or a teaching assistant, or whoever it was, he hadn't been paying much attention. The corridors were filled with people and they all had two eyes and all of their eyes seemed to follow him. He'd never felt such pressure in his life. As he started to sweat, Sam decided to focus on the task at hand, which was walking down this corridor without tripping and making a fool of himself. He looked at the badly tiled floor and concentrated where he was placing his feet. The last thing he wanted to do was to give the people a reason to laugh at him.

They were all whispering about him, some louder than others. He could only catch fragments and snippets of their conversations but he managed to piece together the general gist of it. It seemed that somehow a lot of people vaguely recognised him which he found odd given that he'd never been to this school before. He heard them mention his name a lot and apparently someone named Kevin would be very pleased to see him back. Unsure of what that meant, he decided not to worry about it.

He took a slight detour to the lavatory although he didn't really need to go, he just needed a moment to himself. He splashed his face with water and looked in the mirror. He scratched at the funny scar he had on his head. For years he'd wondered what it was and why his head had funny lumpy bumps on it that nobody else seemed to have. That could've definitely been a talking point had he not grown out some short, jet black hair. It wasn't a lot but it just about obscured the scar unless you knew where to look. He took a deep breath and locked eyes with his own reflection.

"Alright then Sammy, let's do this. Let's take on school."

*

Mrs Hughes always enjoyed these lessons. She didn't even consider them to be real lessons. No teaching involved whatsoever she simply had to hand out the test papers and then she could sit back and watch Skitty videos without anyone knowing. Just as she was about to start the paper, there was a knock at the door. It was one of the new teaching assistants and a shy looking boy of around sixteen.

"This is Samuel Baker. He'll be joining your class."

"Ah yes, I remember having a conversation with your parents. Please come in and sit down, there's a spare seat at the back." Sam slowly shuffled his way through the desks and sat at the seat that Mrs Hughes had pointed to. "How much of the course have you studied so far?"

"I don't really know. I just know some maths," the boy shrugged.

"Well then perhaps this will be a good baseline test for you. Do as much as you can and then we'll review your performance." She waited until the class had settled and everyone was ready to start before announcing the beginning of the test. "You have one hour and thirty minutes. You may begin."

Smiling to herself as the frantic scribbling commenced, Mrs Hughes settled down into her chair and opened up her laptop. It was good to have a break from teaching the... less than intelligent children that attended this school. After responding to a few important emails, it was time to quietly watch some amusing videos that her cousin had sent to her. Hughes' enjoyment was cut short by a raised hand in the corner of her eye.

It was the new boy, Sam Baker. Probably just something he didn't understand. Hughes tried to ignore it but it bugged at her mind and it wasn't really doing her job properly if she didn't answer any questions that he might have.

"Yes?" she eventually said, looking up from her laptop momentarily.

"Sorry Miss, it's just what are we supposed to do when we've finished?" the boy mumbled.

"What?" Hughes replied, thoroughly confused. They'd barely had five minutes.

"What do we do when we've finished?"

"Check your work thoroughly."

"And then?" Mrs Hughes got out of her chair and made her way over to Samuel's desk. Clearly, there was some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe he'd completed the first question and thought that was all he had to do; after all, he was completely new to school and tests.

"Perhaps you don't quite understand Samuelthat you need to..." her voice tailed off as she picked up histest paper and opened it. There was no misunderstanding here. The test paperthat should've taken eighteen times longer to complete for someone with a lotof school experience, let alone a boy who'd never sat a test paper before,was... well, perfect. Hughes didn't need a mark scheme to know that much. Hisworking was clear and precise. The methods he had used were elegant with nopotential for improvement whatsoever and there was no such thing as a tinymistake. She was holding a test paper with a perfect score and it had beenfinished in five minutes. Just who was Samuel Baker?