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sitting in biology, staring out the window, thinking about how heavy her eyelids felt and wondering if she could rest them one eyelid at a time without falling asleep when she realised someone was yelling at her.
    â€˜Barnes!’ yelled Mr Poshoglian.
    Friday turned to look at the teacher. His face was red. She couldn’t imagine what he could be so angry about.
    â€˜What?’ she asked.
    â€˜The function of the mitochondria in the cell?!’ demanded Mr Poshoglian.
    â€˜Really?’ said Friday. ‘You’re a biology teacher and you don’t know?’
    â€˜Of course I know!’ exclaimed Mr Poshoglian, ‘I’m asking if you know.’
    â€˜Yes,’ said Friday.
    â€˜Then what is it?’ yelled Mr Poshoglian. He was getting seriously agitated that his one student who knew anything seemed to have contracted a sudden bout of extreme ignorance.
    â€˜Sorry, what was the question again?’ asked Friday.
    â€˜It converts ATP to ADP, providing energy on a cellular level,’ said Melanie (with Friday so distracted, there had been a role reversal in their relationship and Melanie had been paying attention in class). ‘And you’ll have to excuse Friday, sir. She’s never suffered heartbreak before, and she’s taking it very badly.’
    â€˜I’m not suffering heartbreak,’ protested Friday.
    â€˜You see, she’s still in denial,’ said Melanie. ‘She’s got a long way to go in the grieving process.’
    â€˜I’m not suffering heartbreak!’ yelled Friday again.
    â€˜Ah, anger,’ said Melanie. ‘The third stage of grieving. Let it out, Friday. I know you’re not used to dealing with emotions, but it is healthier to let them out.’
    â€˜Ladies!’ snapped Mr Poshoglian. ‘This is a biology class, not a therapy session. Save your discussions of boyfriends until after class.’
    â€˜He’s not my boyfriend,’ protested Friday.
    â€˜Well, of course he dumped you,’ said Mirabella Peterson, one of Friday’s less pleasant classmates. ‘You got him expelled from school.’
    â€˜Hot boys don’t like that kind of thing,’ agreed Tia Babcock, knowledgably.
    â€˜He is not … actually he is hot,’ said Friday. ‘That’s just a fact. I can’t argue with that.’
    â€˜Right, that’s it!’ declared Mr Poshoglian. ‘Barnes, get out! Go and see the Headmaster.’
    â€˜Good idea,’ said Melanie. ‘He’s always got chocolate biscuits. Ask him to give you one. That will cheer you up.’
    â€˜You get out too, Pelly!’ snapped Mr Poshoglian. ‘I’m sick of both of you and your teen angst.’
    â€˜Friday is only twelve,’ said Melanie.
    â€˜I don’t care!’ said Mr Poshoglian. ‘Get out of my classroom. We’re trying to study biology!’
    â€˜I would have thought that adolescent courtship rituals fell under the subject area of biology,’ said Melanie as she packed up her books.
    â€˜Get out!’ yelled Mr Poshoglian.
    â€˜Mr Posh,’ said Melanie, ‘you’re going to have an aneurysm if you don’t calm down. Although Isuppose that would be an instructive biology lesson as well.’
    Mr Poshoglian threw his whiteboard eraser at Friday and Melanie as they left. Luckily, he was terrible at throwing and the eraser just hit the fume cupboard in the corner of the room.

    â€˜Do you want to talk about it?’ asked Melanie as she and Friday trudged across the quadrangle.
    â€˜What?’ asked Friday.
    â€˜Ian,’ said Melanie.
    â€˜No,’ said Friday, ‘I realise I’m out of sorts, but I’m sure it’s nothing to do with that. It’s probably a delayed reaction to living in an airport lounge for three weeks, or discovering that I was citizenshipless. That would make more sense.’
    â€˜You keep telling yourself