From the depths of my jacket, as if from the depths of Plato’s cave, I wondered whether he was going mad, with his mania for impenetrable language. Much later – really a long time later, once he’d become a great chess champion, and I was watching him on TV, about a thousand moves ahead of everyone else – I often thought that he still had that same air of madness about him.

“What do you mean?” I asked him.

“I know what I mean. So do you. The difference is that you haven’t realized it yet.”

His big face, puffed up like popcorn, split into a wide smile. It gave me confidence.

But I didn’t have time to think about all that, because all of a sudden I saw the mop of Marie’s hair go by. Her empty eyes were fixed on the noticeboard. Thank goodness she couldn’t see it. People were crowding around it, laughing and joking. Just then the bell rang, and they all started drifting off towards their classes. I let myself be carried along by the crowd, doing my best not to be noticed. I watched Marie counting the steps to the staircase, concentrating hard. Meanwhile I was counting on my fingers. We just had to hold out for five more weeks. I realized she was confused by the scrum, which was jostling her around like a spinning top. I hurried over to her, hoping I wasn’t lining myself up for a public slapping.

“Careful,” I whispered, “the staircase is in the opposite direction!”

“Your voice sounds odd. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’ve got a sore throat, so I’ve wrapped myself up in my jacket like an Egyptian mummy.”

“Did you do the geometry?”

“Yes. I’ve got two copies. I’ll keep the one with a mistake in it. Here you are.”

“What’s all this business about photos pinned on the noticeboard?” she asked as we were heading upstairs. “I can’t work out what’s going on. Everyone’s laughing all around me and I’d like to share the joke!”

So then I really did say the first thing that came into my head.

“Oh, it’s just some nonsense… Van Gogh took a picture of the biology teacher kissing the music teacher in the lab…”

“Hmm, that’s odd, I wouldn’t have thought they’d make a good couple.”

Just then I got recognized in the corridor. But my enemies confined themselves to muttered comments, since they wanted to remain attached to their ears, and the others eyed me with respect, knowing the speed of my fists. Shame wasn’t doing me any good at all just then. The maths teacher opened the door for us and gave me a wry look. She’d put some new thingies in her hair that made a big difference, even better than a facelift. I smiled vaguely at her.