I don’t really know why I didn’t just make an excuse and turn back , it was not as if he had kidnapped me at gunpoint, though I hadn’t even been in first class before and was slightly curious to see how the other half lived. As we approached the front of the plane, I saw one of the flight attendants look me up and down appraisingly. I wasn’t exactly dressed like the rest of the passengers in business class, with my favourite band t-shirt , jeans and worn purple converse, but neither was my escort, though I don’t think anyone noticed as he carried it off with such confidence. Gesturing to two enormous, comfy looking seats, we were approached by a tall, smartly dressed man with a dazzling toothpaste smile.

“Ah Mr. Snow, can I get you anything?”

“Just a coffee for me please Gaspard.” Hmm it seemed his manners had at least improved from earlier.

“And for the young lady?” Gaspard addressed me flashing his pearly whites, like a shark going in for the kill.

“Um, I’m not sure. What do you suggest?” I replied, trying to not make it too obvious I was a refugee from economy class.

“Champagne?” He suggested with a sly wink. He totally knew.

“Well mystery girl, am I ever going to find out your name?”

“I don’t know your name either.” I said, pointedly avoiding his warm brown gaze.

“Oliver Snow.” He said with a cheeky bow, “And you are…?”

“Kim.” I said simply, copying his bow. He had a smile playing at his lips.

“Just Kim?”

“Coburn.” I muttered glaring back at him. He smiled back defiantly, mirth dancing in his eyes. A few moments later, Gaspard returned with our drinks.

“Enjoy!” he announced, directing another wink at me, before prancing off to attend to a portly French woman.

“I wanted to apologise for this morning before now, but first your teacher came to collect you, then you ignored me at the departure gate.” I felt the colour rise in my cheeks, maybe I had over-reacted a bit. He carried on when I didn’t reply. “ I was in a crappy mood, but I shouldn’t have snapped at you, especially now that I know you’re a fan of ‘The Fatal Aristocrats.’.”

I looked down at my t-shirt stunned, than up at him.

“You like ‘The Fatal Aristocrats’?” I was only shocked as I had never met anyone else who had heard of them, let alone liked them.

“Of course.” He replied as if it was the most ridiculous question he’d ever heard. I lay back in my chair, which actually went fully back like a bed. I couldn’t believe I had finally met another fan of my favourite band and he had to be this guy. Fair enough, he had apologised for earlier, yet there was still something about him that infuriated me. Maybe it was the scruffy hair, the assured bordering-on-arrogant swagger or the mischievous glint in his eyes when he spoke, I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

“I dabble in music myself actually.” Oliver said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Oh really?” I sat up to face him, amused by his revelation. “What do you do? Play the triangle?”

Oliver chuckled softly, ignoring my cynicism.

“Vocals , piano, didgeridoo” I giggled at the last one in spite of myself. “So, How long you going to be in Paris for? School trip isn’t it?” Having had a good few gulps of champagne by now, I was feeling quite relaxed, even in spite of present company.

“Just a week. Wait, how come you’re not in school? it’s not even the holidays.”

“Lets just call it an unofficial holiday.”

“Ooh you’re ditching class, you big rebel.” I said sarcastically, shaking my finger at him. He smiled back, raising an eyebrow.

After that we got on the subject of school. I wasn’t too surprised when I found out he attended Menzies Park, one of the most exclusive and expensive boarding schools in the country. That would explain the private lounge and business class seats. When I told him about St. Richard’s he listened intently, he even looked interested. I was just sipping the last of my champagne, when he leaned forward so his lightly-tanned face was only inches from mine.

“Kim, I was just wondering if…”

“Miss Coburn, what on earth do you think you’re doing!” Interrupted the raspy voice of Mrs Newton.

“Um..I.” Before I could conjure up a brilliant excuse for sitting in business class with a strange boy , drinking alcohol at ten in the morning, I felt my self being lifted to my feet and dragged off back down the aisle.

“Wait a minute!” Oliver called out, getting up from his seat.

“And you young man!” Newt growled, coming to a halt. “Are to stay away from Miss Coburn or I will be forced to involve the cabin crew!” And without another hesitation, I was hauled away to rejoin my classmates.