An Excerpt.

It was fall, and I was stuck transferring into another school. Again. And it was a public school; it was my very first time transferring to a public school. But it was easy.

The last month had consisted of many idiotic public schoolers trying to catch up. Hmmp. As if they could. Before, watching them struggle with variables was fun. Now, it was getting a bit old. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and living was easy. Not to mention boring.

My boring day was interrupted when I learned that we were getting our exams back.

Those public-school idiots were still whispering after the bell rang.

“Yo, the old teach told us the class average was under 70!” one said.

“Really? I heard it was less than 60 this time!”

“C’mon! That’s impossible! That kid’s in our class!”

They were talking about me, obviously. That was my initial thought.

“You mean Ken?”

“Yeah, I mean Ken! Everyone else is lucky to get away with passing grades!”

Hmm… Okay, they weren’t talking about me, then.

A while later the teacher entered the class. Ugh. She’s always late. Ms. Merrier lugged a stack of papers and smacked them onto the table with a thunk. Then, she started calling out names.

“Rosier.”

“Here!”

“Come get your test, Rosier!”

“Oh.”

I yawned. Merrier had a habit of piling the tests from low score to high score, so it was best to be called last. In other words, there wasn’t a chance in hell that my test was coming soon.

“Boucher.”

“Sampson.”

“Adams…”

I blocked Merrier’s voice out, and switched to nibbling on my pen. My name will come last, I said to myself silently. My name will come last.

Without knowing the age, gender, ethnicity (yes, that matters), or other attributes to the main character, what does the voice make you think? Is it developed? In what ways can I improve the voice?