"Which...?"

I quickly interject as I perch myself on the corner of my desk and fold my arms over my chest. "All of it. You still haven't handed the first questions in and you had two chances to complete them and two weeks in total." She winces and opens her mouth to make excuses, but I hold up my hand to silence her. "You're an intelligent girl, this I know. I've looked at your work from last year before it started to slip." She opens her mouth again, but immediately clamps it shut when I continue. "I feel as if you aren't making an effort in this cla.s.s. Would you like to drop out?"

Her eyes widen with fright. "No... No! That's not even an option. I need this A level."

"Sit," I tell her, pointing to the table opposite my desk. She does so, placing her bag in front of her and wrapping her arms around it. I'm making her uncomfortable, which isn't my intention. b.o.l.l.o.c.ks. "Then what's the problem? Is the work too hard? We go through the material in cla.s.s; you have the notes..."

She gulps and pulls her plump, perfectly shaped lips into her mouth. I watch them pop back into place, glistening with moisture, and my mouth goes dry. I shake that off immediately and grasp at my thoughts from prior to her seemingly seductive motion. "It's honestly not that it's hard. It's just..." I watch her forehead hit her bag and her red hair spills over her shoulders and neck with the force of the movement. "I'm so scared of failing that I keep forgetting to try."

What? "What?"

"It's complicated. Can I just promise to do better and..." she points to the door. "Go peacefully."

"No." Her head snaps up and her mouth falls open at my refusal. "You can finish your work now, under my supervision, and then you can go."

She narrows her eyes with anger, her shock gone and irritation in its place. "It's lunch time."

"I didn't notice," I remark sarcastically and move around my desk. "You have two choices: you make a start on the work you haven't done right now and during lunch for the rest of the week, or you leave my cla.s.s permanently."

"That's so unfair!"

"I'm giving you a chance. I'm also sacrificing my own lunch hour."

Her eyes roll as she mutters, "Like you have anything better to do."

"You're seventeen, not twelve. Surely you know by now that teachers don't merely exist when in your presence. Of course I have better things to do than to babysit a child who refuses to learn."

Groaning with frustration, she pulls her notebook from her bag along with a pen and slams them on the desk petulantly. "May I eat whilst I work?"

"Feel free." I pull out my own work and slide to a more comfortable position on my desk. The scent of fresh bread and lettuce makes my stomach churn uncomfortably and my mouth water uncontrollably.

Eloise smiles smugly as she scatters her work along the desk and pulls at the foil wrappings around the items in her lunch with her left hand. Whoever made her lunch should be the G.o.ddess or G.o.d of lunches. f.u.c.k if I'm not hungry.

Is that humus? Who the h.e.l.l brings carrot sticks and humus?

She slides the tub towards me and nods towards it. I refuse and keep my eyes on my work. I'm not about to take food from a pregnant teenager, although she seems to be doing little more than nibbling. Maybe she feels awkward eating alone. Females can sometimes be weird like that.

I take half of her baguette without further hesitation and her lips twitch with a secret smile. Seconds later she joins me and we both enjoy the blissful sandwich together in silence. So crunchy and tasty, not too much ham but just enough. I barely bite back a moan of contentment and utter bliss at the flavours that burst on my tongue.

Eloise This work isn't as hard as I initially thought. All of the answers are in the textbooks that were handed out first lesson. I presume the work will get harder as the year progresses, but I'm grateful for the easiness of it at this point.

Mr Price was correct in saying there's actually no wrong answer. There's only fact and opinion when it comes to history and with Google at our disposal, there's little left to be discovered that hasn't already been researched.

I finish the first work sheet that I failed to hand in, in just forty five minutes. Without wasting another second, I slide it onto his desk and nod to the clock above the door.

He nods. "Go. Enjoy the rest of your day."

"You too." I mutter without feeling, because I'm still annoyed that I missed my lunch hour because of him.

"Thank you for the sandwich."

"Glad you didn't choke," I respond with a sickly sweet tone and saunter from the room as his sharp bark of startled laughter sounds around me. He has a nice laugh. A very nice laugh.

Hayley, my forever loyal friend, finds me after a quick text and I'm surprised to be smiling at her usual airhead att.i.tude. She's not dumb by any means, but she certainly is quite silly at times and I think G.o.d pa.s.sed her along when giving out the brain b.u.t.ton for logic.

"Dolphins aren't reptiles?"

I laugh and shake my head. "I'm not even going to bother to answer something you won't bother to remember."

"It's a legitimate question. I thought all animals in the ocean are reptiles?"

"So how do you explain snakes?"

She gasps. "Snakes are reptiles?"

I close my eyes and pray that somebody opens a locker or a door for me to walk into. It doesn't happen, typical. "I'm praying that stupid isn't contagious."

Hayley pouts and nudges me with her elbow. "You said that I'm never stupid, only special."

"Well then I'm praying that your kind of special isn't contagious."

She huffs, but is immediately distracted by her flavour of the month. I barely escape a three way when their colliding bodies fall in my direction. Awkward and gross. I'm all for cute public displays of affection that are heavy in the romance department, the kind that makes you feel all mushy and warm inside. I'm just not a fan of face munching.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and smile immediately at the sight of Garrett. He hugs me tight and I inhale the scent of his no doubt expensive aftershave. "It's been a while."

Nodding, I lean back and look up into his dark brown eyes. "Yeah, I've been busy. I'm sorry."

"No problem. Allow me to escort you to our English cla.s.s?" He pulls away and holds out his hand. I quickly glance at Hayley and decide to leave her and Riley where they are, which is still sucking face against the wall.

After taking Garrett's hand, we walk to our next lesson, smiling and chatting like old friends rather than new ones.

"Sit with me?" He whispers, leading me past my normal table to his usual at the back. Hayley doesn't seem to mind getting stuck with Riley when she finally makes it. This I'm grateful for. Garrett is smart; maybe he'll let me copy his work.

Isaac New neighbours are currently moving in. I should offer them a hand, but I have too much to do. The school wants to set up a Halloween party for the year elevens and lower and unfortunately Katherine volunteered my services without asking. I know it's a ploy to get us both more time together, especially now that I've told her I'm busy for the next week at lunch time so that I can help students with their work. It's kind of a lie, because I'm only aiding one student in particular.

Speaking of said student, I think I've figured out who the father is to this unborn invader that she's carrying. I saw her and that male student walking hand in hand towards their next lesson. One can only hope that if he knows about her predicament, he'll stand by her no matter what she decides. There are too many young mothers struggling with kids their partners abandoned.

If that was me, as much as I'd hate the situation of being tied to one woman for eternity, I wouldn't be able to abandon my child. It's wrong. If it's a part of me, then it's my responsibility.

The sound of a text coming to my phone startles me from my thoughts. It's from Katherine, the tenacious colleague of mine.

Katherine: When can we get together to start preparations for the party?

Isaac: We'll talk tomorrow. I'm helping my new neighbours move in.

The lies just keep pouring out. What on earth is wrong with me?

I need to get laid.

If only I had actual friends in town that I could go out and share a drink with. I just remembered how much I hate it here and the need to escape again is almost overwhelming.

Maybe dating Katherine wouldn't be such a bad thing. Perhaps I'll enjoy myself and if we do part, we'll be forced to part amicably for the sake of having to work together.

I'll think about it. I have too much to do to put it under proper consideration at this point in time.

Stuart hands me a coffee, looking as tired as I feel. I thank him and take a seat at the table by the window. My eyes scan the carpark outside, where students linger by their cars waiting for their friends to arrive.

"The kids kept us up all night last night. All f.u.c.king night," Stuart grumbles, rubbing his eyes once more. "Sure I love them, but b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l they can be hard work."

"Rather you than me." My hands grip my coffee and my body relaxes into the padded chair. "Is it worth it, though? It must be, seeing as people always seem to have kids eventually, despite the horror stories."

He nods, his lips twitching with a smile. "Of course it is. I can't imagine life without them anymore."

"That's a good thing?"

He laughs, but it quickly turns into a yawn. "I'd never wish them away." We sit in silence for a moment. I try to imagine having his life and no doubt he's imagining having mine. "I know we haven't really spoken since we got back, but I'd just like you to know how sorry we all are to hear about Judith." My hands tighten on my cup at the sound of my mother's name. "If there's anything I can do, please let me know. Judith is an amazing woman and she's been there for a lot of us over the years."

"I appreciate it." I clear my throat and drain the rest of my cup before standing. "I'm skipping out on lunch today. I've got a couple of students that need a bit of encouragement."

"Christ, you must be dedicated if you're giving up your lunch hour!"

Yeah, I suppose I must be. "It's complicated. I'll speak to you later."

"Oh... Katherine has been asking me about you, by the way."

I stop and look at him over my shoulder. "In what way?"

"She's just trying to get a feel for you. She likes you and has asked if you feel the same. Apparently you give out mixed signals."

I blow out a breath and run my fingers through my hair, which is still slightly damp from this morning's shower. I should really get a haircut. My blond hair, when longer than two inches, always starts to curl with the most childish ringlets. "I'm considering it."

"You should. She's a good woman. A little overbearing at times, but pa.s.sion is never a bad thing." He winks and smiles as I shake my head and walk away.

Eloise I hate Mr Diplock. I hate, hate, hate him! Why does he always give me such a hard time? It's not fair. I'm doing the work, I'm paying attention... so why does he hate me so much?

And now I don't even have my lunch hour to unwind. I have to go to Mr Price and do my work. Just great.

Why am I the one being targeted?

Dragging my feet beneath me, I sluggishly make my way towards his cla.s.sroom at the far end of the hall. He still has a few students inside, so I wait by the door for them to leave before entering.

Mr Price stretches his body as he wipes down the white board with a damp cloth. I lean against the wall on the inside of the room and wait for him to notice my presence. I'm not being a pervert or anything, but his a.r.s.e looks so good in those black suit pants. It's so round and firm.

He starts whistling a tune I don't recognise as he cleans the board and when he's done he turns towards his desk, so he still doesn't notice my presence. I smile, wondering how I could make him jump, and then decide not to as it would probably just make things awkward.

As he tidies up the paperwork and books on his desk, I clear my throat and watch his startled eyes come to mine before a charming smile lights up his face. "Good afternoon, Miss Blackburn." I love it when he calls me that. I don't know why, but it makes me tingle a little in the pit of my stomach. "How are you today?"

"Grumpy, hungry and tired." I respond honestly and saunter to the table closest to his desk, the same table I sat at last time.

"Eat, work and cheer up."

"How will working on anything make me less tired and grumpy?"

He shrugs, smiling again. That's so nice to look at. "It won't, but it'll stop you from moaning and then I won't have to listen."

"You suck as a teacher," I grumble, pulling out my notebook and waiting for him to give me the work.

He places a sheet on my table and taps it with his finger. "This is probably easier than yesterday's."

"So why not give me this yesterday and yesterday's today?"

After levelling me with a look that clearly says 'shut the h.e.l.l up', he takes his own seat behind his desk and rests his feet on the surface, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes.

Seriously?

"I don't hear writing," he points out, his eyes still closed. He's not wrong. I'm too busy staring at his socks. He's wearing odd socks. One is dark blue and the other black. I can only see them because his legs are at an angle that have forced his trousers to slide towards his knees an inch.

When he opens his eyes to investigate and notices me staring, his eyes narrow on my face. "We don't all have mother maids, you know."

Snickering, I write my name at the top of the sheet and read through the first question before releasing the quip I was holding back. "No, but at least I have a sense of fashion."

"There's no such thing as fashion in this town." He tugs on his trousers, trying to hide his socks, but gives up and sits upright before facing me. "You've got a choice of three stores, all of them appalling."

"My mum goes to a different city every week. I don't think I've ever shopped in this town in my life. That's not including the time I needed a new memory card." I grimace. "Did you know that the only place in town that sells memory cards is that weird little store on the corner of Laurel Avenue?"

His brows. .h.i.t his hairline and he leans forward slightly. "Seriously?"

"Yep. Most people just order stuff online nowadays, but you'd think they'd have memory cards in the superstore."

"That's ridiculous. Plus that shop on the corner of Laurel... what's it called?"

I look up to the ceiling in thought. I know this... I'm sure I do. "Bastian's Corner?"

"That's the one." He scrunches his nose up with disdain. "The guy that owns it..."

"Bastian."

"Right, he's so..."

"Creepy?" I finish and he laughs before nodding. "Yeah, Hayley came with me and he asked her on a date. He's mid-fifties I think."

Mr Price shakes his head, suddenly looking boyish and slightly excited. "No, he's got to be older. He had grey hair when I was your age."

"And he's not dead? Shouldn't he be at least eighty then?"

His mouth drops open. "I'm not that much older! This was only twelve years ago."

"Ah, back when I was in nappies," I joke, my tone wistful. "Those were the days."