I look across to my left where the new girl is sitting next to the window. She looks like she is actually listening to the teacher. She scribbles something in her book, then chews on the skin around her nail while she reads it over.

“Ok, we are going to split into partners today. I have a little project for you to get your teeth stuck into. It will be fun,” Mrs Aldridge says, her face alight. She clearly has a different idea of fun to us, going off the loud groan that fills the room.

“And because I think it would do you all good to be partnered with someone you wouldn’t normally pair up with, I will ask half of you to draw a name from my hat here. Whoever you pick is the person you are working with. The project is due in at the end of the week. Let’s draw names, then we’ll talk about what is required. Right, this side of the room, are you feeling lucky?” There is no answer.

She passes a manky looking fedora along the front row of desks. Hands duck in and out; small pieces of paper are unfolded. By the time the hat reaches Eloise, more than half of the names have been drawn already. Mrs Aldridge has her back to us, handing out pages of notes to the front row. El reaches in, rummages around, picks one and opens it, then wrinkles her nose in disgust and drops it back in. She picks again, opening a few, tossing them back before finally settling on one she is happy with. She passes the hat to me with a wink. I take whatever piece of paper my fingers touch, then pass the hat on to Steph. I open the scrap of paper.

Tracey Deane.

The new girl.

Eloise whispers, “I got Brian! Who did you get?”

“Tracey,” I say.

“Oh god, I got her first. Why didn’t you check and swap it? You don’t want to be stuck with the likes of her all week.”

I shrug. “It’s fine. It’s a project. It’s not like we’re hanging out. I’ll make her do all the work.”

I look over at her again. She has twisted in her seat and is staring out of the window with her back to the room. Her hair is still held back in a low ponytail, thick and curly across her shoulders. Her feet are crossed, her simple black slip-on shoes worn at the heel and dirty with old mud on the soles. She twists around and turns to look at me. I look away.

Mrs Aldridge tells us to pair up with our new partners. I feel awkward as I get to my feet. “Good luck with that,” El hisses in my ear.