Despite being surrounded by hormone-crazed peers whose thoughts extend little beyond sex, weed and where to get a fake ID, theres always a kid in every sixth form who seems to bewell...an adult. Hes the kid with the corporate haircut and freshly ironed shirt. The kid who wears the school uniform on dress down Friday. Hes fond of eye-rolling when talk turns to fellatio and tells passing parents that their offspring can be found at the park with strange-looking cigarettes in their hands. You know, the kid you suspect is more intelligent than the teachers. In Wills case, you can add a briefcase to that. For when Wills mother falls on hard times and is forced to remove him from private school, hes hurled into the unforgiving world of the state school, a place where having any kind of ambition is tantamount to drawing a massive target on your forehead. Not only that but he wears the school blazer. And the tie. None the less, Will is made of tough stuff and continues to stalk the corridors of Rudge Hill Comprehensive, briefcase in hand, until graduation day. Briefcase: we salute you.
