The Test

"Class 11M, all of you get up from your seats and stand at the front so I can designate a seating plan."

There was a chorus of groans and protests, followed by a reluctant shuffling of books and bags.

"Gabe, stop drawing on the desk, and stand at the front like everyone else," snapped our teacher, Mr Stump. It was the second year in row, we'd had him as our form teacher, and he was well aware of our personalities and friendship groups, "And Alex, you too. I'll have to make sure I separate you two this term, now get up unless you want to sit at the edge of my desk."

Not wanting to cause any trouble after my conversation with the headmaster, I rose from my chair and stood among the crowd at the front.

Mr Stump sat back down in front of his laptop, calling names and pointing at places in the room. He was reading from a small diagram he'd made using Paint or something, with our names marked on the desks where he wanted us to sit.

There were twenty-six pupils in my form, and our seating arrangement involved sharing a large desk in pairs.

"Alex Suarez?" he called, "You're in the middle row, second desk from the front. And sitting next to you is Victoria Asher."

Alex strode over to the desk, choosing to sit on the left hand side, looking fairly pleased with the seat he had been put into.

Mr Stump continued to list names, giving places to the rest of the class, placing each person in my circle of friends to sit with somebody else. I was the second last name to be read out, but there was no reason for it, because my desk was be the only one vacant.

"Gabe Saporta, you're in the front corner, on the far right," he told me, "You'll be sat beside William Beckett. I expect you to make him feel welcome."

I saw Alex across the classroom, snickering at me. "Ooh, new kid," he mouthed in my direction, "You're stuck with him until Christmas, dude."

I rolled my eyes in response, and went to my own place, to join William who had rushed to his seat the moment he realized he had been given one.

He appeared to be disinterested in greeting me, extremely engrossed in scribbling viciously in a small, tattered notebook. His posture hunched over, in a slightly self-protective manner, and his tiny frame was swamped by a hand-me-down maroon school sweater.

"Uh, hey?" I said, cautiously, "I'm Gabe. I'm supposed to show you around, and stuff."

The boy's eyes averted from his writing, and he turned to me and smiled, his eyes scrunching up a little and his cheekbones rising prominently. He nodded gratefully, then lowered his head once more.

"Don't worry, you'll get to know this place pretty fast," I continued, "Anyway, you alright?"

He flashed me the same grin, this time showing a glimpse of his slightly pointy teeth, and nodded without speaking. His facial expression and mouth movement replicated gentle laughter, but no sound came from his mouth. I had to admit that it was, to put it bluntly, fucking adorable.

"I suppose you're shy on your first day?" I tried to spark a response.

William nodded again, in the same manner he had before, except in a more apologetic manner.

I realized Mr Wentz wasn't kidding when he described William as dead quiet.