‘D’you mind?’ I huffed. ‘No. Not at all.’ Callum smirked. We looked at each other and burst out laughing. I stopped laughing first. ‘Callum, wouldn’t … wouldn’t you like to be in my class …?’ Callum couldn’t meet my eyes. ‘It’s a bit … humiliating for us noughts to be stuck in the baby class.’ ‘What d’you mean? I’m not a baby.’ I jumped to my feet, scowling at him. ‘Jeez, Sephy, I’m fifteen, for heaven’s sake! In six months’ time I’ll be sixteen and they’re still sticking me in with twelve- and thirteen-year-olds. How would you like to be in a class with kids at least a year younger than you?’ Callum asked. ‘I … well …’ I sat back down. ‘Exactly!’ ‘I’m fourteen in three weeks,’ I said, unwilling to let it drop. ‘Tat’s not the point, and you know it.’ ‘But the school explained why. You’re all at least a year behind and …’ ‘And whose fault is that?’ Callum said with erupting bitterness. Until a few years ago we were only
allowed to be educated up to the age of fourteen – and in the noughts-only schools at that, which don’t have a quarter of the money or resources that your schools have.’ I had no answer. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off.’ ‘You didn’t,’ I said. ‘Are any of your friends from your old school going to join you at Heathcrofts?’ ‘No. None of them got in,’ Callum replied. ‘I wouldn’t’ve got in either if you hadn’t helped me.’ He made it sound like an accusation. I wanted to say sorry and I had no idea why. Callum sighed. ‘Come on, we’d better get to work …’ ‘OK.’ I turned and dug into my bag for my school books. ‘What d’you want to do first? Maths or
History?’ ‘Maths. I like Maths.’ ‘Yeuk!’ I shook my head. How could anyone in their right mind like Maths?! Languages were my
