Okay, calm, calm down. Just pick up the pencil. Look at the pineapple. How many leaves does it have? Draw those leaves. Put the pencil to the paper. Start with the oval. You can do this.

"Nicole?"

At the sound of her voice, Nicole jumped in her seat, slamming her pencil so hard to the paper the lead snapped.

"Are you okay?" Miss Hannily asked concerned, "you're sweating. Do you want to move from the window?"

"No, sorry Miss, I was just…" Nicole twiddled her fingers lightly in the air, "getting warm. It helps my, er, sketch skills."

Nicole didn't think Miss Hannily bought the story, but like the good teacher she was, she just rolled her eyes and got on with whatever was in front of her. Nicole went back to staring out the pineapple. The guy beside her, Glen Davis, was zooming his pencil back and forth like a paint roller. The girl to her left was taking tiny, spidery strokes, progressing to a long, old looking line she presumed to be the leaf.

Nicole's paper was blank.

"Life science! The art…of life! In a science. That's life science."

Rebecca got out her notepad and a blue pen from her bag, thinking she would need to take notes. She began doodling her name in the corner of the sheet when 'Jerome' (originally Mr Forth, but insisted his class called him Jerome in hopes of becoming PCA's favorite teacher. He occasionally refers to himself in the third person) let out a shrill scream.

"Little missy!" He shrieked, looking panic stricken. Rebecca looked over her shoulder, not entirely sure whether the comment was directed at her.

"What are you doing!"

Rebecca looked around uncertainly.

"Er, writing my name," she said slowly, nervously indicating the pen she had dropped as soon as Jerome had screamed, "taking notes."

"Life, is not taken in notes!" Jerome cast a dramatic hand to his brow, "Life, is spontaneous. It is uncontrollable. It is not note take-able."

She pushed the notepad of the desk, and slid the pen back into her pocket. "Jerome wonders who you are?" Jerome asked.

"Rebecca," she replied, wondering why he was referring to himself like he wasn't there.

"Is it 'Just Rebecca?'"

"No," she frowned, "it's Rebecca. Not 'Just Rebecca.' Rebecca Sinclair."

At the word 'Sinclair' Jerome's face lit up.

"Joe Sinclair's little sister?" He asked. Rebecca felt herself groaning. She hated being known as 'a Sinclair,' 'Joe's little sister,' 'Art's hot sister.' She wanted to be known as 'Rebecca.' But apparently, that was harder around PCA than getting Nicole to ace advanced physics.

"Yes," she replied, hoping her disappointment and boredom didn't come across in her tone, "and Art's sister, before you ask."

Jerome seemed a lot more content with Rebecca than he had been with the whole 'note taking' incident. As he claimed he was leaving the room to find their 'class projects,' Rebecca slid back in her seat and sunk her head into her arms on the desk.

"I wouldn't worry about him," said a soft voice, "he's just…well…'Just Jerome.'"

Rebecca peeped over her left arm. Chase was leaning over in his chair.

"I've never gotten a fright like that in my life," she laughed, "obviously notes are a sin in this class."

"As is learning, apparently," Chase smiled, swinging his chair back to his desk now that Rebecca was upright.

"You mean this elective is totally wasted? I could've done something worth time like," Rebecca began picking up the notepad from the floor, "wood shop. Or er…touch rugby. Or…um…art! I bet I could've even slid in an extra science if I was sly."

"You're an academic student," Chase mused, fluffing his mini-fro up at the back. He had never taken Rebecca Sinclair as an academic student. It wasn't likely you'd meet someone very attractive that had a brain as well. Chase had only ever met one like that, and that was Zoey.

"I take my education very seriously," Rebecca told him, "I can't wait to get out of school and become an adult. Of course, you're only a kid once, so I'm valuing this all, but once I'm out of uni, then it's straight into the real world for me. I've always had that dream since I was a kid, learn then act it out. I've not had a chance to act out my learning. Maybe I'd like to write someday. I always have these crazy romantic love stories in my head," a bright smile spread across her face, "that's probably why I've never lasted with a guy for more than a week or two. They just don't meet my expectations. I know I should probably stop dreaming," she sighed sadly, "I mean, where am I going to find a guy who likes to read Jane Austen classics and watch killer movies and play kick-ass fighting games?"

Okay. Good work Nicole. You've successfully drawn a long circle. Give yourself a pat on the back. Now you have to draw on those leaves.

Shaking, Nicole brought her pencil to the top of the oval. She hadn't been joking when she'd asked Michael how to draw.

"Okay, always draw what you see," he had said, "if it ain't there, it ain't on your paper. Always start with the basics, like distinguishable shapes. You know, circles, lines, etcetera, etcetera. Now, the detail. Some people like lots of short strokes. With your attention span in account, I recommend you use the long single strokes. That way, if you won't take your pencil off the paper and get distracted by something. Say a butterfly floating past or maybe Glen Davis sitting beside you, and you won't forget what you were doing and start on another place and ruin the whole picture. Okay, what I'm about to say is very, very important, so I need you to pay attention. When drawing still life, say, a pineapple then…"

Nicole's mind began racing frantically. What had he said! She couldn't remember for the life of her. Okay Nicole, revert back to the conversation. She was sure if she just remembered what Michael had told her, then maybe she could get through this. And there was no reason that she shouldn't remember, unless something distracted her. But it shouldn't have. She was really paying attention to Michael. well, unless something really important came along. But it didn't, not that she remembered.

"…say, a pineapple then make sure you…oh, hey Art. Pull up a seat."

Nooooooooooooooo!

Zoey began sketching a girl on the front of her notepad. She drew in long, giraffe like legs and thin, elegant arms. Realizing not all the models in the fashion show would be built like Rebecca, she began scribbling it out.

"I love that book! But didn't you feel that perhaps there was a bit too much overshadowing? I felt like there was some sort of sequel or prequel I hadn't read and was left a little confused. Especially with the constant emphasis on the –"

The door to life science swung open. Everyone looked up curiously. When Rebecca saw Logan standing in the doorframe, she rolled her eyes and quickly went back to her conversation with Chase.

All the girls in the class began fussing immediately.

"Emily, can you move over, so Logan can sit beside me?"

"Oh no, I bet my hair's a mess."

"Susanna! Throw me your lip gloss!"

Dana sat moodily in the corner.

Pathetic. All pathetic.

The girl beside her began dithering and having what looked like a epileptic fit.

"Ehmagod, ehmagod," she sang, fanning her face, "Logan Reese. Logan Reese. I didn't wear my low-cut, ehmagod, he won't know I exist…"

Dana fought back the urge to hit the girl. She knew her briefly, Melissa or something, she stayed down the corridor from Dana's new dorm in a room with another three Melissa-Clones. Logan raised his eyebrows suggestively at Dana. As Dana set him back a piercing glare (to which he laughed at lightly) Melissa began hyperventilating.

"Ehmagod, he just raised his eyebrows at me," she breathed. Dana turned in her seat.

"You idiot, it was at me," she hissed, "like he knows who you are."

Across the classroom, a completely different reaction was going on.

"He's such a poser," Rebecca pouted, "you'd think he'd have sat down by now. What's he doing?"

Chase looked over Rebecca's shoulder.

"Primping to Dana in the corner."

"Dana? He likes Dana?" she gasped, "I thought he was with Zoey."

Rebecca noticed Chase's face drain of colour.

"No, definitely, no, definitely not. Not in a million years and never, ever, ever –"

He was interrupted when Rebecca placed her long, elegant fingers on his arm comfortingly.

"It's okay," she said, "I believed you on the 'no.'"

She removed her fingers and began fiddling with her long side bang.

"Do you think I should cut this?" Rebecca asked, "Like right off?"

"No, it's pretty," Chase smiled.

Rebecca smiled and looked at Logan out of the corner of her eye. He seemed to be approaching. Frantically, her eyes widened and she began panicking.

Why!

Go away!

Her stomach plummeted when she spotted the empty seat to her left.

Please do not be the only empty seat in the class. Please do not be the only empty seat in the class. Please do not be the on-

"Hey Jessica," Logan drawled, dumping his bag on the ground and sliding into the seat.

"It's Rebecca," she replied coldly, staring straight ahead.

"Save this seat for me?"

"No," she hissed, "it just happened to be empty."

A silence followed this. Satisfied, she looked down at her paper. Suddenly, she felt something on her shoulder. Slapping it, she whipped around to see Logan nursing his hand.

"Ow!" he moaned, protruding his bottom lip like a baby. Rebecca glared.

"Okay, okay. Sorry for the long wait," Jerome sashayed back into the classroom, a bag of textbooks in one hand, the other waving about in the air, "Jerome had difficulty locating the textbooks."

He paused and stared at Logan.

"Have you just arrived, boy?" He asked, raising on eyebrow.

"No," Logan lied, casually swinging back on his chair so his shirt stretched over his six-pack perfect stomach (Rebecca looked away in disguist), "I've been here the whole time."