Ah, shit. I’ve failed another exam. Parents won't be happy. They’re probably expecting it, though.

I was on break and I broke the news to Tim who sat across me.

“Why don’t you try an apprenticeship?” Tim said through a mouthful of burger.

“I hate manual labour.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing here at McDon’s?”

I gazed ruefully at the ceiling. He had a point. It just wasn’t one I wanted to hear.

How old am I again? Twenty-one? Most people would be on their last leg of university at this age. I’m still at least a year from graduating at best. But I really shouldn't think of a best-case scenario. Two years to graduation is probably what's realistic for me.

“Have you ever failed a subject twice?” Tim asked.

“No,” I replied, “I always pass the second time.”

“I got a friend who sucks at studying more than you. He failed the same subject three times. He got called into a meeting and got told to set up a study plan,” Tim said.

I had to grin at that. “Glad I’m not him.”

Sometimes I wondered if working at a fast-food chain was all I had to look forward to. Heating up burgers, faking a smile, seeing other employees eventually leave for better jobs. It’s a mundane way to live. At least it paid the bills, I guess. Part of my parents’ bills, that is.

My shift wrapped up as it always did, with simple goodbyes and a promise to return. The bus stop was a short walk. I sat down and waited; it was bloody hot.

What am I going to do with all the failed grades? It’s clear that I’m not interested in what I’m studying, and I’ll put in as much effort into finding a job in a related field. Dad always told me to stick with it if I don’t have a plan. I want to tell him how wrong he is. Maybe tonight at dinner.

The bus came and then I was home.

I flicked on the air-con and settled into my room. My house wasn’t anything spectacular; just an ordinary suburban three-bedroom home with a fence and a yard. My own bedroom was very much the same. I had no fancy decorations. A simple wooden study desk, bed, wardrobe, laptop. I know I’d be disappointed if I was a burglar.

There was nothing to do except to wait for my parents to come home, so I played games on my phone. Then I napped. I awoke to the sounds of my parents chatting and I made my way to the living room.

“How was work, Ben?” Dad asked from the couch, eyes flicking away at his phone.

“The usual,” I said. “I got my exam results and I failed again.”

“The usual, huh?” Dad said, looking me over through his wide-framed glasses.

He sighed but didn’t look all too disappointed.