"We only have five minutes until the end of the lesson. Next week I would like us to start on 'The Great Gatsby' and 'Paradise Lost'. Please raise your hand if you've read these books before."

If Rafe rolled his eyes any harder, they'd be lost in the back of his skull. Of course Norah put her hand up, perfectly straight, her back elongated and proud. The second hand was raised by the school's golden boy, captain of his football team and the school prefect, William Manuel. The third hand belonged to a transfer student from Thailand whose name was as unreadable as it was unpronounceable.

The teacher let out a sigh of disappointment before starting her rant. "Right, I will give you no assignments for the whole week so you have time for the books! I implore you to read them and reread them! I want you to know them off by heart! You'll be writing your exam on this, for god's sake. We cannot start analysing literature until you've all read it. Your mocks are only around the corner!"

There was a collective groan. The already flustered teacher went a deeper shade of red with frustration.

"Right," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "The bell will ring any minute, please come up to get your marked homework and make your way out."

One by one the class emptied, as each student walked up to collect his or her work. Like every other day, as Rafe noticed, Norah was putting away her things in a very specific order.

First came her cherished book, Milton's 'Paradise Lost' that she carried around everywhere. He wouldn't be surprised if she snogged it several times a day. She always glided her hand over the cover to remove any dust and looked at the cover for two seconds before putting it away in her bag.

Then she would put each paper neatly into a plastic wallet, her pens and pencils always methodically tucked in different compartments of her pencil case. Rafe looked down at his own school bag, which had numerous amounts of crumpled paper piling in the bottom, one pen, a calculator, and an apple that looked like it was growing a life of its own.

"Earth to Rafe," his teacher said, snapping him out of his thoughts. Norah had left already, as did the rest of the class. He approached the desk with reluctance and saw his homework had a lot of red ink.

"I'm not happy. Your performance is below average, and I know you can do better than this. I cannot give you a good predicted grade or a good reference, and looking at your list of universities, you're aiming high. I won't even mention the fact that you haven't even started looking at the application process yet."

Rafe let out a sigh and kicked invisible dust on the floor. He wished he was on his family's yacht having truffle pasta and a bottle of Cervaro della Sala. His stomach growled, and he wanted to cry at the idea of eating in the pub or instant noodles tonight again. The school canteen food tasted like despair.

"I suggest you find a tutor, Rafe," she said, snapping him out of his delicious daydream. "Maybe that will help you. Mr. Hyam does extra lessons on Thursdays after school. Or study in groups. You're a popular boy--" she said looking down at one of the desks. It was vandalised with a red pen with the words I want to have sex with Rafe Ferreira.

As a joke later Jonah wrote in a blue pen underneath in reply, He has gonorrhoea.

"—I'm sure there'll be people willing to study with you," she finished frowning at the desk.

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and Rafe was grateful for the intervention.

"Hi Norah, did you forget something?"Mrs McGrath beamed at her favourite student, who stood by the doorframe and couldn't figure out whether it was all right to come in.

The teacher gestured for her to come, but hadn't dismissed him yet.

"I just wanted to submit my personal statement draft. For uni. I know we're supposed to give it to Miss Gray, but I'd like you to have a look at it if that's okay," she said.

For a girl who had such a mean demeanour, her voice was clear and soft.

Since the incident on the first day of school, they hadn't said a word to each other. Only a couple of glares here and there. Oh Madonna, Rafe thought as he looked on the sheet of paper that was being passed to his teacher. She'd already written her personal statement, and that was only due in December. Did this girl have a life?

"I'll have a look, Norah, and I will have this ready for you by next week. Oh, and can I borrow your homework, which I gave back today," she asked the girl who nodded her head in reply before rummaging in her bag.

Miss McGrath took the paper and handed it to Rafe. "This is what an answer for an A grade looks like. I'd like you to study it, use it as a model answer and revision sheet. Is that all right with you, Norah?" The girl nodded in agreement.

Rafe was dismayed and annoyed, but he tried his best not to show it in front of his teacher. "Yes, Miss," he said through his teeth, and looked at Norah for any signs of smugness.

She looked equally uncomfortable.

"Okay, you're free to go. Both of you," the teacher said. "And Rafe, make sure you give her work back once you're done with it."

They left the classroom in silence and went in opposite directions.