Concerning Behaviour

Content warning: substance abuse, poor mental health, neglect, domestic abuse, grooming

The boys sat on the garden wall, leaning into one another, head-to-head. They were sharing somebody else’s space, Reece’s mobile phone, and a nit, which slowly traversed the crossing-point from Euan’s brown scruff to Reece’s red crewcut. Reece’s mom would have to give Euan the shampoo, again.

‘Just one more,’ said Euan, as the progress bar on the video rushed towards its endpoint.

Ah, fine,’ said Reece, as if no was an option.

They cracked up as a kid on screen managed to outwit her TV’s parental controls with devious and digital native skill: she tucked her chin in her face and grunted, “Alexa, open Netflix”.

‘Tech’s proper daft,’ said Reece.

‘Nah, people made that. People are daft,’ countered Euan.

A notification popped up. Kayleigh: thank u for today x 🐱‍👤

Reece swept it away but not quickly enough to hide the message, or his smile.

‘Well. Look at Kayleigh sliding into your DMs,’ said Euan.

‘Fuck off,’ he grinned.

They sat in front of a two-up two-down terraced house on a roaring main road, beer cans planted in the garden’s muddy border, on the characterless outskirts of the city. Euan walked this main road twice a day with only his five senses for company. No phone. He wished he had a better backdrop for his origin story, having never left these post-industrial, pre-anything-else badlands. There really was nothing here.

The front door of the house flew open, revealing a woman in a nightie.

‘Every bloomin’ day, you two. It’s been hours. Go home to your parents!’

The door slammed before she could even hear their apologies. Reece sighed.

‘I gotta go,’ he said. ‘And so’ve you - McGuire said you’ll fail Computing if you don’t hand in that coursework.’

Euan turned his eyes to the sky. ‘Not you and all, man -’

‘Nah, she’s on your side,’ said Reece. ‘She literally said she didn't wanna fail you.’ He grabbed his friend by the shoulders. ‘Don’t mess up a good week. Just. Do. It.’

Euan made a noncommittal noise and held out his hand. They slapped palms, fist bumped, said their goodbyes.

He dawdled the short walk home. As he approached the front door, he threw a glance into the bin. Empty. He breathed.

Couldn’t do his coursework at home - he didn’t have the programme. Maybe he could plan it on paper, go to the school computer room first thing tomorrow. Before Callum took up his usual spot.

His plans were forming into something sketchy but doable, until the door opened, and stopped them dead. She’d fallen. There she lay, boneless, at the foot of the stairs. Not today. He wasn’t prepared for this. She’d had a good week.

Euan ran in.

‘Mom?’

He tried to heave her over, breaking every rule of emergency care, which no one had ever taught him.

‘I was trying … go upstairs …’ she murmured.

‘Mom,’ he implored, realising she hadn’t fallen. She just couldn’t get upstairs. Trying to hide herself away, like he wouldn’t know what was going on. Her knees weren’t up to the lie - they couldn’t take the stairs on the best of days. And this was not the best of days.

She was too heavy for him to lift. So instead, he dragged her, awkwardly thumping to the floor, one step at a time.

‘You were doing so well,’ he said.

‘He’s got me number again,’ she mumbled, head lolling onto his. ‘Texted me.’

Euan’s eyes closed. ‘You know they won’t operate until you’ve lost weight and cut the drink,’ he said.

‘I know,’ she said, a little clearer.

‘You’d have the op mom, if you could, wouldn’t you?’ he asked.

‘Course,’ she said, nodding and taking his hands. ‘Of course.’

***

The sun didn’t care if he was late to school, and his alarm clock batteries were dead, so he was late - again. By the time he made it in, form time was almost over.

His teacher handed him over an envelope. ‘For mom.’

Wondering what trip he’d be missing out on this time, Euan opened it.

Dear Parent/Carer,

I am writing to inform you that in order to improve standards and behaviour across the school, Brentham High is upgrading its CCTV system. As of 20th May, we will be adopting SafeWatch, a system powered by artificial intelligence. This will have the following advantages for our school community:

Streamlined attendance: registers will be verified automatically as students enter classrooms using facial recognition software, reducing administrative tasks for teachers.

Improved site security: staff will receive alerts about concerning behaviour around the site, allowing them to focus on teaching and learning rather than corridor supervision.

Early intervention: SafeWatch includes enhanced sound detection and lip-reading capability to provide early warnings of concerning or disruptive behaviour, enabling a swift and informed response.

Rapid containment of incidents: in the event of a serious issue, entry points can be locked remotely to contain the situation and help keep students safe.

We would like to reassure you that safeguarding your children and maintaining their privacy is of the utmost importance to us, and we have been assured that their information will remain secure and used in line with our Data Protection Policy.

We are excited for the benefits this will bring to our school community.

Yours sincerely,

Mamie Goddard

Headteacher

20th May. That was yesterday.

Callum looked up to where the old CCTV had been. The cameras had gone, but nothing visible had replaced them. He walked down the hallway to Maths - nothing there. No cameras, no mics - not even any holes in the ceiling. Creepy. What did he care, anyway? Everyone already knew his attendance was shit.

He screwed up the letter and binned it.

The Maths classroom, currently teacherless, was arranged in two horseshoes. He took his seat next to Reece on the outer row, next to the teacher’s desk. He tugged his exercise book from his bag - too hard, he knew it as he did it - and the whole thing burst out like a startled bird, loose pages flapping across the desk. Reece’s snort was cut short.

‘God, Euan, you smell that bad even your book wants to get away.’

The voice came from a boy, small for his age, wearing a side bag and a smirk.

‘Just shut up Callum, yeah?’ said a girl on the inner horseshoe - Kayleigh. She leant down to pick up the pages.

‘Yeah leave it out, you thick road man,’ said Reece.

Euan lifted his hands, middle fingers raised like a mask. He couldn’t stop himself from blushing. He’d been so wrapped up in mom’s stuff, he’d forgotten to wash his clothes. Then he’d forgotten again. And again.

‘Why didn’t you tell me, man?’ he whispered to Reece.

‘It’s not that bad,’ he whispered back.

Callum was holding his nose, theatrically flapping his hand and retching.

With every breath in, and its accompanying reminder of last night’s microwave curry, Euan pleaded with the universe: disappear me. He took off his jumper in the cold classroom.

Lanyard flying, Miss Shah rushed in, breathless.

‘Right, sorry everyone, had to sort something urgent, be with you in a tick. Just got to check the register.’ She bent over the keyboard, muttering under her breath at the SafeWatch login screen. Callum stopped the flapping, but not the smirk.

As Miss Shah was busy resetting the password she couldn’t remember, another senior teacher appeared in the door. Mr Clarke was one of those who delivered praise like it was a death sentence.

‘Can I borrow Callum please?’ he said. ‘It seems as though in your absence -’ the last words landed heavily, ‘- he’s been exhibiting some concerning behaviour.’

Callum’s eyebrows shot up, too shocked to even offer his standard denial. Mr Clarke left, knowing he’d follow.

‘Snake,’ he said quietly to Euan, as he passed.

‘Was he outside the room?’ asked Kayleigh, twisting to face Reece and Euan. ‘Y’know, listening in?’

‘No…’ said Euan, again checking the room’s corners, and seeing nothing. ‘It’s SafeWatch.’

The others didn’t react.

‘We literally got a letter about it this morning. New smart security system started yesterday. Records us, does facial recognition and lip reading and that. That’s why Miss hasn’t done the register, ‘cause it’s seen who came in when.’

He watched them both, still, as the words sunk in.

‘Yesterday?’ Reece finally asked.

‘Yeah, yesterday,’ said Euan. ‘What’s up with you two? You look shook.’

‘Kayleigh, turn around,’ called Miss Shah. ‘Right, it’s everyone’s favourite - simultaneous equations.’

Reece looked even paler than usual - like he was going to throw up all over his textbook.

‘I’m in trouble,’ he hissed at Euan, barely audible.

‘Yeah,’ said Euan, ‘It’s big trouble for your Maths exam if you can’t do simultaneous equations.’

He stared at Reece, eyes wide, and tapped his mouth.

‘Read. My. Lips. Remember?’ he said, very slowly. ‘We’ll catch up after school.’

***

Reece wasn’t lying. He should be in trouble.

Euan didn’t trust a single corner of the school, inside or outside. The equipment was invisible. At the safety of their wall, Reece explained, all the while never stopping his rapid-fire texts to Kayleigh - her scattergun replies shot with panic.

She couldn’t get any more ADHD meds, he said. Something to do with trade, off-licence meds for kids, whatever that meant. No one knew when, or if, they’d come back. She couldn’t work, couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t feel good about herself any more. But she knew Mrs McGuire was on the same medication. She kept it in her drawer. And Kayleigh’d never asked him to take it - it was Reece’s idea. He offered.

‘Oh, fuck.’ Euan put his hands to his face. ‘They’ll kick you out,’ he said.

‘I know.’

‘How come they ain’t found it yet?’ he asked. ‘They were straight onto Callum.’

‘No idea,’ said Reece. ‘First day glitches?’

‘Yeah,’ said Euan. ‘Or it looks like you’re doing something legit so they ain’t noticed. Can’t imagine McGuire wanting to admit she kept her meds there.’

‘You’re good at Computing,’ said Reece. ‘Can you get in the system?’

He stared at the cracked, uneven pavement.

‘I’m not a hacker,’ said Euan. ‘But…’

His mind flicked back to a late night, a bad one, when mom’d emptied everything in the cupboards into her craving mouth. Euan desperate, searching online for anything - any pills or potions, miracle-makers, or even a witch doctor that might cure her. ‘I might know where we can get advice.’

‘You - you serious?’ said Reece, looking like he’d been pardoned from the gallows. ‘Come on then.’

He picked up his bag, but Euan held out a hand to stop him. His chest tightened, thinking about his mom yesterday, and what today might bring.

‘You can’t come with me,’ he said. ‘I’ll explain how you do it. We can both have a go. Just - don’t let your parents catch you.’

He knew his wouldn’t.

***

Mom was in her room when Euan got home. She wouldn’t answer the door.

‘You alright?’ he called.

‘Fine, bab,’ she said. ‘You stay out there, yeah?’

She tried her best to hide her binges from him. Like the evidence wouldn’t all end up in the bin. He looked at the clock - every ten minutes, he’d come to check on her.

He’d been to check on her three times before the ancient PC was ready to go. The memory of that night was so vivid: he knew exactly what to do.

need help getting into school system, he’d typed.

It didn’t take long before the first bite.

what kind of system? know any passwords? Their replies were instant.

maybe… he’d typed, thinking back to Miss Shah’s careful, intentional typing.

It seemed easy, this. Ridiculously easy, with the guidance from his willing helper.

it’s wrong they’re spying on you like that, said The Helper. getting good kids into trouble.

And in moments - Euan was in.

Child’s play.

As a senior teacher, Miss Shah had good access. There were so many cameras Euan got bored of clicking through them all. You could easily turn the sound on and off. He scrolled back through the day. There he was, in Maths. He selected ‘Lip reading transcription’. It understood him, word for word.

you in? The Helper messaged.

yes

come back to this chat when you’ve deleted the video. £££

Euan selected a tab called ‘Concerning Behaviour’, with three sub-categories: ‘Minor’, ‘Major’ and ‘Expulsion’. No ‘Good Behaviour’ tab, he noted. Each category had its own clips, neatly pre-cropped, waiting to be judged.

And in ‘Minor’, there was Reece - stealing the medication. Clearly mislabelled. Clearly unchecked, so far. Euan hovered over the video and selected the bin icon. Delete.

Are you sure? asked a notification.

Euan paused. Selected Cancel.

Instead he chose the downward facing arrow. Download.

Then Delete.

Are you sure?

This time: Yes.

Euan felt a sob take him by surprise, hearing it before he’d known it was coming, as he realised that his friend, his best friend, his idiot best friend, was safe.

For today.

***

Reece never made it into SafeWatch. He’d been too afraid even to access the dark corners of the web where he could seek his own salvation. Instead, his mind’s eye played out the meeting, the home visit from Mr Clarke, telling him never to come back - until Euan’s email arrived. The evidence was gone.

So the power to delete the videos was Euan’s alone.

And Euan did spend more time, alone, after that day. After school Reece would chuck him a quick apology, before leaving with Kayleigh. Euan went with them once or twice. No one said don’t. But no one said stay, either.

School was quieter. The police had been seen leading kids out in the quiet times during lessons. Everyone was too busy navigating self-censorship, only stuck to waters which were safe. Generic. Dull. A petition started against SafeWatch, which Euan signed.

At night, he quietly searched for the good ones - the ones he liked - deleting any of their Concerning Behaviour.

Not Kayleigh, though.

A couple of weeks later, out of nowhere, Reece asked to walk home together.

‘Kinda miss Nightie Lady shouting at us,’ he said.

Euan hadn’t wanted to talk about Kayleigh, but nevertheless, Reese had.

‘You’ve got mentionitis,’ said Euan. Reese didn’t take the hint.

They hadn’t even made it to their wall, before Reese unceremoniously launched into the reason he was there.

‘Look,’ he said. ‘I need to ask you a favour.’

‘What is it then?’ Euan asked, already bracing himself, thinking he really should be used to being let down by now.

‘It’s Kayleigh.’

‘Course.’

Reece scuffed his shoe, avoiding Euan’s eyes. ‘She forgot about the cameras. Aisha was coming for her little sis, so … she proper threatened her.’

‘Lovely.’

‘12.30 in the caf. It was noisy, they might not have seen it. Please, mate,’ he begged.

‘Alright,’ said Euan. And then, before Reece could get another word in: ‘Can we watch your phone now?’

Reece winced. ‘Can’t, mate,’ he said. ‘I told Kayleigh -’

Euan walked off before he finished the sentence.

***

Kayleigh was suspended before breaktime.

Euan had felt Reece’s eyes on him all day. He’d seen the slow-burn fury silently consuming him. Exactly as he’d pictured it. And exactly as he’d expected - there was Reece, waiting for him on the walk home.

‘What the hell!’ he exploded. ‘You said you’d bin it!’

Euan shrugged. ‘Guess I didn’t.’

‘Where d’you get off, playing god?’ asked Reece.

‘You were fine when I was helping you,’ he said.

‘You could do something proper good,’ shouted Reece, growing red in the face. ‘Crash the system, delete everything, give other people access and all. Why ain’t you breaking it?’

Euan didn’t answer. He looked down at his shoes. His cheap shoes which had fallen apart two sizes ago. One day he might be able to buy a new pair before the old ones fall apart.

‘Can’t,’ he said, voice low. ‘I need SafeWatch.’

‘I’ll tell the police,’ said Reece. ‘Everything you’ve done.’

‘Nah, you won’t,’ said Euan.

He focussed on his anger to stop the heat rising in his throat. He hoped Reece would forgive him, one day.

‘I downloaded the footage,’ he said. ‘You, nicking the meds. So if I were you -’

He watched as realisation jolted Reese like an electric shock.

‘- I’d keep my mouth shut.’

***

When Euan got home, his mom was lying on the sofa, watching Real Housewives. She wasn’t in her room. That was something.

She smiled at Euan when he came in.

‘Alright bab,’ she said, opening her arms. ‘C'mere.’

He ran, fell into her arms: her cuddle had no strength to it. He squeezed tight enough for them both.

‘It’s gonna be alright, mom,’ and as he heard himself, realised how much he’d always wanted to say those words.

‘Oh?’

‘I’m gonna get you a new phone,’ he said. ‘So he won’t have your number no more. And -’

He stopped, swallowed hard, mouth dry.

‘- I’m gonna sort your operation out. I’ll get the money, yeah? You’ll have to travel, but I’ve found someone. You’re gonna get better.’

She just blinked, frowning slightly, mouth forming an O.

There were no smiles, as he’d been expecting. But sometimes when she’d been drinking, things didn’t go in. No matter.

An argument started up on Real Housewives. Her gaze flickered, then resettled on the screen.

He headed to the computer. He could even buy himself a phone, after all this.

The Helper was online.

today? they asked.

Euan didn’t hesitate.

now

it’s like I said, wrote The Helper. half now, you send me access details, then half when I’m in. OK?

OK

Euan still didn’t understand why the login was worth this much money. But if it bought a transplant, a second chance, the closest she could come to a cure - better not to ask. He loaded up the crypto wallet.

He watched.