Third period was English, but their teacher was off, and there were no substitutes free, so the set one year elevens were allowed to have a free study period.

"Yes," Kelly muttered triumphantly as they walked down to canteen. "I can get my essay done. There was no way I could've finished it while everyone else was pissing around with a substitute."

Kelly and Isis went on ahead and Tarrow walked with Triston, who was slower on his crutches. They sat down on the sofa in the corner of the room.

"Right," Kelly said, throwing her bag down on the table and rifling through it. She yanked out her English book, slamming it down and opening it. She grabbed a pen and clicked it madly, staring at the page like she was trying to set it alight.

"Christ, Kelly, chill the fuck out," Triston sighed, lowering himself onto a chair and sticking his leg out gingerly.

"Why are you so stressed out about this?" Isis asked, sitting lightly on the sofa and folding her legs up under her like a cat. Tarrow sunk into the cushions beside her.

"Because I'm awful at English! I don't get it!" Kelly whined. "This is gonna take me ages!"

"C'mon, it's not that hard," Triston teased, grinning. "You do speak English, Kelly- you shouldn't struggle with this language." He looked around and sighed. "Tarrow would you chuck me my bag?"

Tarrow glanced around and reached over for it.

"Here you go, bloody Tiny Tim cripple boy," he said as though it was a huge effort to pass the rucksack over.

Tarrow wapped out his phone and started swiping through Instagram.

"I feel like you guys must get so pissed off at me because I post so much rubbish," he said.

"I barely ever post anything anymore," Isis replied, getting out a book. She of course had finished the English essay already.

"I haven't used it since I nearly bloody died," laughed Triston dryly.

"Fair enough," Isis mused. She checked her watch. "Shit, I've got a music lesson." She shoved her book away and got to her feet, sighing dramatically. "See you at lunch."

"See you Issy," Kelly called.

"Catch you on the flip," Triston shouted over his shoulder. Then he turned back to Tarrow; "well I think I've got a good enough reason for not using Instagram, seeing as my phone also got smashed up when I did."

"You never did before that!" Tarrow argued. "You're so boring."

"I am sick," moaned Triston tragically, "of being bullied by you for not being present on social media. I refuse to conform to social norms!"

Tarrow grinned.
"Well you never post anything you morbid cunt!"

"Would you two soggy bitches shut your goddamned mouths?!" Kelly shouted. "I'm trying to write my fucking essay!"

"Kelly!"

It was Mrs Buckler. Kelly blushed furiously and said quickly,

"Sorry Miss, I just got a bit frustrated!"

"Don't let me hear you swearing again!" Their form tutor said sternly. "Now come here."

Triston and Tarrow went "wayyy" quietly as she got up and walked sulkily over to her.

"Aww, Miss, you're not going to give me a detention, are you?"

"I was just going to introduce you to Lloyd. He's just moved here," Mrs Buckler said, frowning but also letting laughter into her eyes. "I thought you might be able to keep an eye on him, seeing as you've both got maths after lunch and I thought you might be able to give him a hand. Maybe I made the wrong decision, though."

"No! No, Miss, I'm sorry," Kelly said. "You didn't!"

"Aw, alright then," Mrs Buckler said with a wry smile. "Here he is. Lloyd? This is Kelly Schrine. She'll make sure you know what you're doing."

"Hi," Kelly said, grinning at the boy who approached.

He was tall, wearing black jeans and heavy boots, and a sky blue sweatshirt. His skin was fair- almost as pale as Kelly's, which burnt like paper and was freckly all year round- and his nose was long and sharp, sandy hair and eyebrows bushy, but it was his eyes that were almost spell binding: his left eye was wide and a startling shade of teal. The right was closed and a thin, neat scar ran over it. His ears were pierced. His lips were thin. Half his head was buzzed and the other was shaggy in thick hair.

When he shook Kelly's hand his grip was strong.
And then he spoke, and his voice was fruity and loose, with a sharp Australian twang.

"Gooday Kelly," he smiled.