Chapter 2:

I walked into my tutor base and looked around at my class. Most of them, like me, looked half asleep. Those who didn’t, were talking excitedly about their weekend antics. Something about a party. I wouldn’t know. I wasn't invited. The problem with Monday mornings was that nobody had quite got over their weekend. They were either wishing it hadn’t ended or just babbling about it non stop. Oh, and we had double English first period. That was a problem too. I sat down in my usual seat next to Taylor Henderson. He was muttering something about an English assignment.

Oh Crap. I hoped that I’d remembered to put mine in my bag the night before. I’d put a lot of effort into it , you know. It was about a girl who accidently fell in love with her best friend. I searched my bag for the plastic folder that I'd remembered putting it in and sighed in relief when i found it. The buzz of students chattering around me suddenly fell quiet.

I looked up and saw our tutor, Miss Clarke, entering the room. She certainly knew how to silence a room of teenagers. I mean, I wasnt gay, but i could tell you that Miss C was stunning. She was one of the younger teachers at our school, only about 26 years old, and that was one of the reasons she attracted so much attention among the students. The other reason was her amazing good looks. She had short spiky, jet black hair, a pale complexion and piercing green eyes. Her fashion sense was rather perky; a mix and match kinda chic, that’s how my mum would describe her. Most would just describe her as beautiful.

All the boys fancied her, the dykes wished she was queer, and the girls and girly gays just envied her. This, of course, meant that everybody listened when she spoke. The half-asleep class suddenly seemed wide awake as she called the register, each one cheerily replying \"Yes, Miss C\" when she called their names. What a contrast compared to Mr Hedges, the boring old man with hardly any hair on his head and that much nose hair that it looked like he had rodents living up his nose. The uptight so called \"English expert\" who put you in detention if you spoke without permission. The man who seemed to find it impossible to smile. What a difference. Oh, how we wished we could have HER for English.