The Passenger — Dan Tunstall

Mikey's trainers are box-fresh Nikes. They're as white as new snow. White leather, white laces, white soles. But something on the right shoe catches my eye. It's a tiny circle. The size of a five-pence piece. It's bright, bright red. Blood. Matt's on his way home from a Saturday afternoon shopping in town. His mum sends a text to check if he's okay, as there's been a stabbing in Renton. When a strange boy takes the seat next to him on the bus, Matt starts to wonder if he might have had something to do with it.