After Tuesday, the week flies past in a flash. Each day, I sit with Molly and her friends at break, then after fourth lesson I go to Ms Hudson's room (I don't care if she's not here, it's her room) and spend my lunchtimes with the new French teacher. I've learnt a fair amount about him, actually.

He has a brother who he hates. I could sympathise with that.

He's somewhere between the ages of twenty and thirty.

His first name begins with an S.

He walks to school each day.

And he bloody loves guessing games.

The main thing I try to guess is his first name and age. He's willing to say yes or no to names but flat out refers to play along when I try to guess how old he is. It's infuriating. The first time he directly said no to my guesses, I thought I was going to find out but he ended up saying no to every number between twenty and forty.

He's also very insistent on getting me to read my French paragraphs to him (that I actually am starting to learn now). That always ends with us fliruging - which is a word I made up that means flirty arguing. Like flirty banter is flanter. Well, we fliruge. I decided it's pronounced 'fler-goo(ing)'.

I'm not really sure when the flirting started or how but it did. Or maybe I just think it's there because I totally have the hots for my teacher? Who knows.

Anyway. It's Friday now. Molly and I are going ice skating tomorrow. Which I am dreading for various reasons. One, it's our first date as a 'couple'. Two, I have never skated. Three, if she can't skate and I turn out to be half decent then she'll expect me to hold her hand on the ice. Four, if she can skate she'll want to guide me round by hand. Five, I have to go out of the house. Six, -- I'm going to stop listing reasons now because we'll be here all day.

It's probably a bad thing that I'm considering running around outside tonight with a cold, wet flannel on my head in just shorts and a thin t-shirt. What makes it worse is that I got the idea from a TV show.

I sigh as I enter the French room. Mr Holmes was already there, at his desk with a pile of books in front of him. He has the pen pressed to his lips, where he'd been sucking on it (something he does that's resulted in one or two wet dreams) but he moves it further away and looks over at me as I enter.

"Long day?" He asks.

Friday was one of the only days I don't actually have French so this is the first time I've seen him.

"Eh" I shrug "Just not looking forward to the weekend"

Mr Holmes frowns and turns more towards him. "Why's that?"

Oh, God. Not this. This is the thing teachers do where they think that you'll tell them about your life when they ask and use a friendly tone. Although, I suppose this is a tad different seeing as we are trying to be friends.

In the end, I just shrug again and walk over to the desk that sat at a 90 degree angle to Mr Holmes' desk. It was the closest seat to where he sat and made it easy for the two of us to sit and talk. Not that I talked a whole lot. Although sometimes I'd caught myself talking a lot more than I usually would...

Mr Holmes leans forward, placing his pen on the book in front of him that he was currently marking.

"Why aren't you looking forward to the weekend?" He asks, far too kindly. He didn't sound like himself.

I groan "Seriously, stop talking to me like I'm five and don't know how to hold a pen"

"I hope you could hold a pen at the age of five" Mr Holmes says with a chuckle, an amused smile on his lips.

I stare for a moment, trying to think of a suitable comeback besides 'of course I bloody could'. When none comes to mind, I pull my lunch tub from my bag and mutter "Idiot"

His stupid, and probably very kissable, lips spread into a wider smile and he leans back, the pen returning between his lips as he looks down at the book.

Neither of us say anything as I nibble at the sandwich I had, occasionally eating one of the berries that sat in a section of the tub, and he marks the books, sucking on his pen as his eyes scanned page after page.

"So" he asks casually, as he marks something on the page "any plans this weekend?"

This guy...

"Yep" I answer, popping the 'p' and leaving my answer there.

His eyes flash up to me and I can see the annoyance there. Good.

"Are you going somewhere with your friend.. Molly, is it? I see you two talking a lot before every one of my lessons. She doesn't seem like the type of person you'd get along with..." Mr Holmes puts his pen down again.

I narrow my eyes. I bet that Ms Hudson told him I have no friends (which is true, but I hate how much he knows).

I purse my lips, debating. That promise to Ms Hudson was constantly in the back of my head. Friends tell each other things, don't they?

"I am, yes"

"Going somewhere fun?" Mr Holmes' eyebrows raise, as if shocked I answered.

"Ice skating" I nod.

That causes him to frown. "Then why aren't you looking forward to it?"

I shrug, again. "I suppose because it's a date and I don't really want to be going on a date with her and am only going because I'm selfish and want at least one friend"

That causes Mr Holmes to pause. It wasn't much but I bet he feels like I just dumped a whole load of information about my feelings on him. He's gotten used to me being silent and closed-off, so now he looks like I shoved something up his arse... and now I'm imagining things I shouldn't be, great.

But you can't blame me. He'd look gorgeous with something shoved up his arse.

Licking my lips and pushing the thoughts away, I pick up my sandwich again and wait for his reply.

"I, uh,..." Mr Holmes continues to frown before clearing his throat. He looks kind of flushed.

"And" I add, kind of liking how I've rendered him speechless "I'm considering running around in my underwear at midnight, in the back garden, with a flannel on my head in an attempt to get a cold"

Mr Holmes' eyes finally raise and meet my own. "Do it" He says, no emotion in his voice.

I frown "What?!"

"Do it. If you don't want to go... Get a cold and then you can stay in and practice your French"

I didn't even think about the time this was taking out of my learning time for French. No doubt, Molly has all hers memorised already.

"You're telling me to get a cold so I don't have to go on a date?" I ask, just to check.

Mr Holmes nods.

Isn't he just the best example? Teaching impressionable kids like me that it's okay to lie and deceive your friends.

"Fine"

His smile widens. Stupid, pretty git, I mentally seethe the words. He needs to be taught that he doesn't get to be so happy about being controlling. Bet I could take him down a notch, if given the chance to shove him face first on a bed.

His face falls for a brief moment as he watches me but the smile soon comes back. I guess I glared at him without realising. Shrugging, I go back to my lunch.