Night School

‘Who can tell me why we’re dissecting a frog rather than some other poor creature?’ Jerry asked, looking at the class over the top of his glasses. ‘Why do we torment these innocent pond-dwellers? How about you, Allie? Do you know?’


Allie felt the colour drain from her cheeks.

‘I … I guess …’

‘Because a frog’s anatomy is much like man’s.’ The voice, deep and pleasing, came from behind her.

‘Mr West,’ Jerry said, glancing without warmth towards the speaker, ‘is correct as usual, although he could wait his turn. The anatomy of the frog is somewhat similar to human anatomy …’

Allie turned around in her seat to see who had saved her, and instantly recognised the boy from the common room yesterday. He was staring at her with those big, dark eyes, but his expression startled her – he looked almost resentful.

With a puzzled frown, Allie turned to face the front.

Science was not her best subject, and so she tried not to think about ‘Mr West’, and focused instead on Jerry’s lesson about frogs.

She didn’t look back again.

‘You took loads of notes,’ Jo said as they were walking out, ‘I’m so psyched that you’re really into science. I need a friend who’s a science geek.’

‘I’m not that into it,’ Allie said honestly. ‘I just think I’m going to have to work to catch up. This class is way ahead of my last school.’

‘This is a really hard school,’ Jo said. ‘But it’s fun too. Although it does have too many freaky rules.’

‘Totally,’ Allie said.

Pretending to straighten her bag strap, she asked casually, ‘Hey, who was that guy who saved me from the frog question? Jerry called him “Mr West”.’

With a knowing look, Jo lowered her voice confidentially. ‘Carter West,’ she whispered. ‘He is totally hot. But he’s a mess. So you probably shouldn’t.’

Allie was so intrigued she didn’t bother to deny interest. ‘How is he a mess?’

‘He’s constantly in detention. Thinks he knows everything and everybody else is shallow. He’s infuriating. Half the teachers hate him, and the others treat him like, I don’t know, he’s their kid or something. And he’s a notorious womaniser. He gets what he wants and then he’s not interested any more. You’d be better off working that Sylvain thing you’ve got going.’

Allie blushed. ‘I don’t have anything going with Sylvain.’

‘Well, I think he’s got something going with you.’ Jo elbowed her.

‘Actually, I heard he has a girlfriend in Paris.’

‘First I’ve heard of it.’ Jo seemed genuinely surprised. ‘Who told you that?’

‘The red-headed girl. What’s her name … Katie?’

‘Oh, Katie.’ Jo’s voice dripped with contempt. ‘Christ, she’s such a bitch. Don’t listen to a word she says. She’s always had a thing for Sylvain and he’s never been interested in her at all. She must really hate the way he’s just fallen for you.’

Allie kept her expression blank but inside she was churning. So Katie had lied. Well that was it then.

Game on.

The day was a brain burner of new classes, new teachers and new classmates, and of finding out the truth about just how much schoolwork she needed to do. She had Zelazny for history, which she’d thought would be a nightmare, but to her relief, aside from a brief hard stare when she first walked into his classroom, he treated her like everybody else.

Her next class was Isabelle’s English seminar, and as she walked in the first person she saw was Sylvain, leaning back on a desk, his long legs stretched out gracefully. He was talking to the boy beside him when she walked in, but she noticed that he stopped almost immediately and turned to watch her as she walked up to Isabelle.

‘Hi Allie.’ The headmistress smiled. ‘How’s your first day going?’

‘So far so good,’ Allie said, only lying a little.

‘Good.’ She handed Allie a course schedule. ‘We’re reading Robert Browning today. Are you at all familiar with his work?’

During her lunch break, Allie had read the Browning in her text book. ‘I’ve read “Life in a Love”,’ she said.

‘What do you think of it?’

Allie fidgeted. ‘It was all right.’

Isabelle tilted her head to one side, looking unimpressed. ‘Is that your full review?’

Allie hated poetry, but now seemed like a bad time to mention it. She leaned on the edge of a desk as she fumbled for the right words. ‘To be honest … it seemed a bit … you know, stalky.’

For a second the headmistress looked as if she was going to argue, but then she stopped herself and handed Allie the class syllabus. ‘Fair enough. Sit anywhere you like.’

The desks were arranged in a circle, which somehow made choosing one more difficult. After a moment’s hesitation, Allie picked a seat at random. When she sat down, she saw that Sylvain was still watching her. She raised her hand hesitantly, and he smiled at her before turning back to the boy beside him.