The Tutor

Chapter 4

Rafe looked at the clock again. Much to his dismay, the long hand on the clock hadn't moved an inch. Time seemed to stretch into eternity in this town. First half-term was coming up, and it already felt like he'd spent half of his life here.

The days were as long as the pasture fields he saw on his way to school. The hours were endless. Ten more minutes until the end of the lesson. He thumped his foot against the leg of his desk restlessly. He looked around, most of the class was finished the surprise quiz and also eyeing the clock.

The only one who was still furiously scribbling away was the geek sitting in front of him. She had her head bent in concentration; the only sound in the otherwise silent classroom was the fast and violent scratching of her pen. The sound taunted him. He barely squeezed out three sentences of utter nonsense and here she was still writing as if thirty minutes was no time atall.

"Time is up everyone! Please put your pens down now. During your exam, if you don't put your pen down once the moderator tells you to, you could get marks deducted, so please don't risk it," Miss McGrath said to the class, but it was clear that the message was only for the one person in class who was still writing.

The teacher went around to gather the papers from everyone. She stopped next to Nora.

"Nora, we still need to work on your timing. It's your only setback," she explained, taking the paper from her.

As soon as the teacher stood in front of him, her face produced a disapproving scowl when she saw five pathetic lines of words on his paper.

"Rafe, I must have a chat with you at the end of the lesson," she said, taking his paper. Rafe heard Luke laugh at his expense, so he gave him the finger in response.

"We only have five minutes until the end of the lesson. Next week I would like us to start on 'The Great Gatsby' and 'Paradise Lost'. Please raise your hand if you've read these books before," Miss McGrath addressed the class.

Of course, Nora put her hand up, perfectly straight, her back elongated and proud. If Rafe rolled his eyes any harder, they'd be lost in the back of his skull. The second hand was raised by the school's golden boy, captain of his football team and the school prefect, William Manuel. The third hand belonged to a transfer student from Thailand whose name was as unreadable as it was unpronounceable. Rafe sat looking lazily around the classroom for more raised hands, realising that he didn't even buy the book yet.

The teacher let out a sigh of disappointment before starting her rant. "Right, I will give you no assignments for the whole week—"

A cheer erupted.

"Shush! —so you have time to read the books! I implore you to read them and reread them! I want you to know them by heart! You'll be writing your exam on this, for god's sake. We cannot start analysing literature until you've all read it. Your exams are in March!" Miss McGrath was tinted pink by the end of her passionate rant.

There was a collective groan. 

"Right," she sighed, running a hand through her hair and composing herself. "The bell will ring any minute, please come up to get your marked homework and make your way out."

One by one the class emptied, as each student walked up to collect his or her work. Like every other day, as Rafe noticed, Nora was putting away her things in a very specific order.

First came her cherished book, Milton's Paradise Lost that she carried around everywhere.

He wouldn't be surprised if she snogged it several times a day. She always glided her hand over the cover to remove any dust and looked at the cover for two seconds before putting it away in her bag.

Then she would put each paper neatly into a plastic wallet, her pens and pencils always methodically tucked in different compartments of her pencil case. Rafe looked down at his own school bag, which had numerous amounts of crumpled paper piling in the bottom, one pen, a calculator, and an apple that looked like it was growing a life of its own.

"Earth to Rafe," his teacher said, snapping him out of his thoughts. Nora had left already, as had the rest of the class. He approached the desk with reluctance and saw his homework had a lot of red ink.

"I'm not happy."

He resisted the urge to ask whether it was with him, or with life in general.

"Your performance is poor, and I know you can do better than this. I cannot give you a good predicted grade or a good reference, and looking at your list of universities, you're aiming high. I won't even mention the fact that you haven't even started looking at the application process yet."

Rafe let out a sigh and kicked invisible dust on the floor. It was a hot day out and he wished he was on his family's yacht having truffle pasta and a cold bottle of Cervaro della Sala. His stomach growled, and he wanted to cry at the idea of eating in the pub or instant noodles again tonight. The school canteen food tasted like despair.

"I suggest you find a tutor, Rafe," she said, snapping him out of his daydream. "Maybe that will help you. Mr. Hyam does extra lessons on Thursdays after school. Or study in groups. You're a popular boy—" she said looking down at one of the desks. It was vandalised with a red pen with the words I want to have sex with Rafe Ferreira.

As a joke, later, Jonah wrote in a blue pen underneath in reply, He has gonorrhoea. 

Not funny at all. 

"—I'm sure there'll be people willing to study with you," she finished, frowning at the desk.

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and Rafe was grateful for the intervention.

"Hi Nora, did you forget something?" Miss McGrath beamed at her favourite student, who stood by the doorframe and couldn't figure out whether it was all right to come in.

The teacher gestured for her to come but hadn't dismissed him yet.

"I just wanted to submit my personal statement draft. For universities. I know we're supposed to give it to Miss Gray, but I'd like you to have a look at it...if that's okay," she said.

For a girl who had such a mean and tough demeanour, her voice was soft. He hardly ever heard her speak. In fact, since the incident on the first day of school, they hadn't said a word to each other. Only a couple of glares here and there. Oh Madonna, Rafe thought as he looked at the sheet of paper that was being passed to his teacher. She'd already written her personal statement, and that was only due in December. Did this girl have a life?

"I'll have a look, Nora, and I will have this ready for you by next week. Oh, and can I borrow your homework? The one I gave back today," she asked the girl who nodded her head in reply before rummaging in her ridiculously neat bag.

Miss McGrath took the paper and handed it to Rafe. "This is what an A grade answer looks like. I'd like you to study it and use it as a model answer and revision sheet. Is that alright with you, Nora?" Though she pretended that Rafe didn't exist in that room, he felt reluctance on her part, but she nodded, nonetheless.

Rafe was hoping the annoyance wasn't written all over his face. "Yes, Miss," he said through his teeth and looked at Nora for any signs of smugness.

She looked equally uncomfortable.

"Okay, you're free to go. Both of you," their teacher said. "And Rafe, make sure you give her work back once you're done with it."

They left the classroom in silence and went in opposite directions.