"You're the girl who loves her step-brother, aren't you?"

"Yes." Natalya paused. "I'm in love with him."

Her words caused the three boys before her to snigger, glancing at one another as then marvelled at this oddity. It was bad enough to have such feelings, but to admit them so shamelessly was funnier still. No shade of embarrassment came to Natalya's face as she bluntly answered the questions addressed to her, and despite being the subject of the conversation, she seemed disinterested and unoffended. She pretended that these intruding classmates had no impact on her; that they weren't disrupting her lunchtime reading. She pretended that she was still absorbing every word on the text before her, even while her the trio hung round her like crowing vultures.

Sometimes her classmates questioned whether she really didn't know that she was being laughed at. Maybe she couldn't recognise things like that. She hardly seemed like the emotional type. Or perhaps this was all some elaborate joke; maybe she was trying to keep advances away by insisting that she loved a family member. Ultimately, she was just peculiar.

"Do you want his cock?" one dared to ask, his cheeky smile widening as he glanced to his friends and enjoyed their amused and gawping faces.

"Of course." She said it without pause, eyes fixed on a single word in her book.

"Fucking hell!" Disbelief. They laughed giddily at this strange girl and her strange honesty. They were about the continue their interrogation when an interruption came.

"Hey," came a firm and slightly scolding voice, "don't speak to her like that. Find something else to do."

Erzsébet was quite the admirable pupil; unlike Natalya, she had plenty of friends. She was talkative and cheerful and warm. She even smiled politely to her peers as they dispersed. They would leave, seeing as she had asked, but that wouldn't stop them laughing over Natalya in private. That wouldn't stop them from informing the rest of their friends, letting the information become muddied along the way: 'I heard she wanted to fuck her brother. Her biological brother!'

"You shouldn't talk to them," Erzsébet advised more quietly, unable not to feel a little startled by Natalya's eyes staring at her, fixed on her own. She stood before her, and although noise and movement occurred around them, to be under this girl's intense look was to be dragged into her insular community of one. "Don't they bother you?"

"Why would they?" There was a challenge in Natalya's voice. Why would someone like her be bothered by people like them? Why would she ever, even once, allow herself to be distressed over their howling laughter? Them, in their safety of their pack and group seemed more vulnerable than her, confident in her loneliness.

But this was the same loneliness that concerned Erzsébet. It didn't seem natural to her that someone should be alone all the time. When she saw Natalya, she almost always wondered if she was lonely. She wondered who she spoke to. What went on in her head. While everybody moved in the canteen around them, bustling by and buzzing with noise, Natalya sat in stony silence. She seemed to always bring books with her; she would sit with textbooks, academic looking, worn paperbacks, books written in the foreign, unfamiliar Cyrillic alphabet, and intently read, her fingers leisurely turning each page when necessary. She shoved earphones in her ears and settled in this tiny world she was able to create for herself. Even now she had earphones in. One hung down so that she could listen to this Other before her - this external world apart from her. Foreigner. An alien.

"They would bother me," Erzsébet offered, smiling reassuringly to the other. "I wouldn't like to have people laughing at me. Especially over something personal."

"People don't laugh at you. You don't need to worry."

Erzsébet paused. She distinctly felt that she was unwelcome here. She had her own friends; she could go back and tell them how prickly Natalya was to be around, how aloof and indifferent and hostile she seemed. They could laugh because it was most likely all an act.

Erzsébet only felt bad for her.

"Can I sit here while I eat lunch?"

"You can sit where you like."

Erzsébet understood that this was the closest thing she'd get to an invitation. Once she sat down, she smelt the smoke on Natalya's hair and clothes; her nose wrinkled slightly at the penetrative stench. She didn't comment. Instead, she invaded and conquered the table. Natalya's book and accompanying bottle of water were soon outnumbered by Erzsébet's plastic containers of homemade foods; the scent of cooked meat and rich tomatoes and garlic sprang from the opened tupperware.

"So," she began, smiling warmly, "you have a crush on your step-brother?" She said the words more gently than those boys had, although she had to admit that it was unusual.

"Yes."

Natalya glanced to her with suspicious interest. Why was Erzsébet prying? They shared a few classes together. But why did she seem genuinely curious? What was she trying to gain? Natalya's heart quickened anxiously. It was easier if people were simply outright with their rejections and mocking words.

"What made you fall for him?"

Nobody had ever asked. For a few moments, Natalya was quiet, but not dumbstruck, looking down at her fingernails as she thought.

"He's handsome," she said, glancing back up. "Handsome and kind."

He wasn't always kind. She didn't know why she called him kind when he had said some very unkind things to her, when she was too direct and hung too close. He didn't want her near him when she was too expressive. He had once told her that her only redeeming feature was her undeniable good looks - make the best of them, Natashen'ka. She frowned to think about it - him.

It was true that Natalya was attractive. There was something graceful in her nonchalant movements; the flicker of her eyes was slow and leisurely, her gaze impassive, and her mouth small and dainty, despite the swear words and sharp insults it produced. She had a slim nose, slim wrists, slim fingers, and a complextion like the full moon illuminous in a winter sky.

"Are you upset?" The question was cautious.

Natalya straightened and shook her head. Then, chin resting in her hand, she eyed Erzsébet. "You have a boyfriend. Don't you?"

"Uh-hm." And now she relaxed. She smiled more easily, and Natalya watched this. Erzsébet paused before speaking, unsure if talking about her own romance would make Natalya feel unsuccessful and jealous. But she seemed expected to speak. "Roderich. D'you know him?"

"No."

"He's got brown hair, and glasses, and he plays a couple of musical instruments. He's pretty cute - I think so at least. Roderich Edelstein." She said his name with softness that Natalya envied.

"Oh."

Perhaps Erzsébet shouldn't have elaborated. But now her affections were showing; the soft, tilted smile wouldn't evaporate immediately, even beneath Natalya's glacial gaze, or the implied disapproval of her monosyllabic expressions. Nevertheless, Natalya was failing to make Erzsébet uncomfortable, and this was why she continued regardless.

"He's smart, too. I think he's a little misunderstood sometimes. Kinda like you, perhaps?"

"Misunderstood?" Natalya repeated, her back straightening a little at the nudging accusation. "Incorrect."

She was correct and Erzsébet was incorrect; she was herself and Erzsébet was other. But despite her earnest response, and her solemn black and white reasoning, she had made Erzsébet laugh.

"What?" Natalya demanded, a little testily. Usually she could understand why people were laughing at her.

"The way you said it." Erzsébet's smile was still broad on her face. She had a wide mouth, Natalya noticed. It wasn't unpleasant. "Incorrect," she imitated, "like a computer, or something."

"Oh." It was softer this time, released gently with a sigh.

There was a small pause. Erzsébet had her head down as she ate some of her meal; she glanced up to nudge the stew she had in Natalya's direction, but apparently Natalya didn't want any. Erzsébet would have pressed if she knew her better.

Instead she said: "So, you're Russian, I heard?"

"No." There was some indigence. "I'm Belarusian." Pause. "And I'm on a scholarship, unlike the rest of you." Now disdain.

The international schools of richer Central Europe were not cheap; Natalya had originally come from a small flat in Minsk. She had never wanted to come and had never wanted the scholarship for her gymnastics, given to her on the basis that she would perform for the school. If it hadn't been for her mother's insistence, she would still be in Belarus. Whether she would be happier there or not was a different matter. In Belarus, she had also been strange - but at least it had been home. Home, with the fluid mix of the two native tongues. The harsh state; the streets named after Lenin in the modern towns, and the rural countryside. The blocks of grey, beige flats, the small interiors. The distrusted, yet not so distant West; an alter ego which Natalya now reluctantly felt that she occupied.

She hated the food here. The language they spoke; the attitudes they had.

"Hey, hey," Erzsébet laughed, "I'm not rich either. I got some money cut off because of my test scores and I live with my grandparents across the border. I spend my life on trains back and forth from this place. You must board here, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you like it?"

"No."

"Do you miss your family in Belarus? Your step-brother?"

"My step-brother is studying in Moscow. He's a Russian," Natalya informed. She disclosed his nationality solemnly. "I don't miss him anymore."

"But you love him still?" Erzsébet asked, obviously confused. She would have assumed that a large part of love would be missing someone while they were absent, even as the ache became more familiar. She would miss Roderich, if they were separated.

"Yes." Natalya shot her a look. "Weren't you listening?"

Part of Ivan's desirability was his unattainability, which Natalya assumed was normal. Many young people adored pop stars, or film stars. People older than them, continuing their own lives, unattached, almost unreal. When Ivan was near, he wasn't all that special. He was still unattainable, due to his status as step-brother, but he was also very much a mediocre person. Up close, sometimes his fingernails were dirty. Sometimes he said cruel things, and most often to her. Sometimes he laughed too loudly, or acted like a juvenile, or got acne, or walked round the house in just boxers and a dressing gown - up close these things were actually very unappealing. A lot of the time, Natalya didn't like him very much at all. How he spoke over her, and was unkind to her, and how she was the subject of his jokes which he always found so funny.

But she maintained that she loved him. Somehow, it made her feel safe, and she had never once tried to find a more suitable replacement.

"Of course. I'm sorry."

Erzsébet wouldn't question it, although Natalya seemed to contradict herself. Instead, she ate her lunch and offered Natalya her friendly smiles and safer tidbits of chatter. What lesson do you have next? Do you like it? Which teacher? Easy, mindless things that lasted until the shrill bell sounded, instructing the pupils to their lessons.