He nods. Then he looks me up and down, batting his long eyelashes. He doesn’t fix me like Shane does. His eyes don’t go that far. It’s more like he’s summing me up, or taking a snap. Flash. Caught on camera.

‘Rob,’ he says, not smiling.

‘Miss said your name was Robert.’

‘It’s Rob,’ he says, cranking up those eyelashes again.

‘My name’s Rob.’

All morning I watch him. His thick brown hair sticks up on the top of his head, making him look even taller. He’s tried to arrange the front of it in a greased curl, like my Dad’s in old pictures. A dry bit pokes out the wrong way, but it still looks good. He’s got flawless skin. A few faded freckles on his long, straight nose. A thin gold chain is draped around his neck. He plays with it a lot, twisting it round and round while he looks out the window.

Last lesson that day is History.

I slide in opposite Rob. We’re doing Enclosures, which is all about how the countryside was divided up so it looks like a patchwork quilt. I thought the hedges had always been there. I didn’t know they were planted to carve up the fields, for money.

Rob twirls a pencil. It’s one of those ones with a big rubber on the end. He lets it slide through his fingers, catches it and twirls it again. He’s good at that.

Halfway through the lesson, he leans over. ‘What have you got for question six?’

‘I’m still on two,’ I say.

He grins. His cheeks dimple. ‘Good pen,’ he says, gesturing towards my pink plastic fountain pen. I look down at it.

‘I’ve got one like it,’ he continues, rummaging in his sleek metal pencil tin. He brings out a purple one, just the same. Then he says, ‘You should have it. It goes with yours.’

I laugh. ‘No thanks.’

‘Go on. Look. I’ve got loads more.’ He tips his case towards me. Shiny multicoloured pens are all lined up. ‘You should have it.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Really. Take it.’

I wonder what he wants.

‘It’s yours. If you want it.’

I reach out for the pen. He smiles like he’s given me the crown bloody jewels.

All month, I have Rob in my sights.

One drama lesson I pick him as a partner. The theme of the lesson is ‘trust’. I don’t usually notice stuff like that, themes of lessons, but today I know I have to make the most of it, so I listen to what the flowery-scarfed teacher says.

‘Pick a partner and ask them to do something that you’d only ask someone you trust.’