Mrs Gallagher stood at the front of the classroom, adjusting her rimless glasses on her pigeon like nose.

"Now everyone, as you know you're halfway through your last year at high school. Next term will be gruelling and filled with study for all your subjects, not just English."

I looked over discreetly at my best friend Noah, rolling my eyes. He half-grinned in reply.

We had been getting the same speech from every single one of our teachers since the term had begun a week ago. What she said next however, I had not been expecting.

"For the rest of your school year, we will be having a university student helping out in the classroom. His name is Spencer Cardell and he'll be starting tomorrow. I hope you'll all be civilised people during his time here. With that, have a good afternoon."

The room was filled with the sound of scraping chairs as students rushed out into the freedom of the afternoon and their homes.

Noah jogged up next to me, grinning slyly. "So if this guy is in Uni, he shouldn't be much older than us …"

I punched him in the arm. "Shut the fuck up, Noah," I grinned.

"Come on buddy, get in there!"

"I told you about … that, in the hope that you wouldn't be an ass about it."

He put his hands up in defeat as we reached our locker. "Okay, okay. God, don't get your knickers in a knot."

I rolled my eyes. "Unlike you, I'm not into that sort of thing."

Noah collected his books out of his locker and dumped them in his bag, not bothering to zip it up the whole way. He straightened and slapped me on the back.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun fantasising what the Uni kid will look like."

As I looked at his retreating form I had to admit, with his untidy light brown hair, bright blue eyes and athletic five foot ten figure Noah would be classed as sexy in my book. If he were into guys, I would totally tap that.

I grinned as I thought about what he would do if he knew what I was thinking. Most likely he would threaten to castrate me with a spoon.

I stuffed more books into my already over-flowing bag and trudged out to my battered Nissan pulsar. I waited impatiently to get out of the car park, fiddling idly with the CD player. Once I had reached the freeway I put down the windows and cranked up the music.

I reached home in ten minutes, parking on the worn grass, dying from lack of rain. I looked up into the cloudy sky. Hopefully this winter would send us some rain.

I unlocked the front door and was greeted by my ragdoll cat, Sherlock who rubbed against my ankles.

"I'm guessing dad isn't home," I murmured. Things had been tough since mum had died a little over a year ago. Dad had taken on a second job to keep up with the bills and even though I had offered to help with the money from my job at the local café, he refused any money I gave him.

I flung my keys onto the table and shut the door, dragging my bag to my bedroom and then collapsing onto my bed. I try to remember what day it is. Thursday. That means work.

I groaned, easing myself off of my bed.

I hated Thursday's. Thursday's meant no free-time at all. I had an hour and a half to do any homework I could and then starting at six I had four and a half hours to deal with impatient customers.

I got my English homework out of my bag, seeing as that would probably take the least amount of time to complete. All we had to do was read a short story and write down any words that we didn't understand.

I rolled my eyes. This was year ten stuff. I was able to finish it in around fifteen minutes and was left with nothing to do, so I went out into the living room and watched television for an hour, Sherlock curled up on my lap.

When I had fifteen minutes to get to work, I walked into my room and grabbed my uniform out of my wardrobe, black pants, a black button-up shirt. I looked into my bathroom mirror, judging my appearance. My dark brown wavy hair was probably in need of a trim, it was past my ears and my dark blue eyes had faint dark circles underneath them. Looking at my reflection, I knew I wasn't an ugly guy. I just wasn't conceited.

I chuckled at that. I was good-looking, nice and gay. I guess that girls are pretty much right in most cases about guys in that respect.

I quickly fed Sherlock a bowl of Whiskers and then left the house.

I arrived at work ten minutes late.

"Adrian, what have you been doing?! Your shift started ten minutes ago! You're lucky I'm not docking your pay for this!"

I tied the apron he handed me around my waist, not bothering to explain that it was traffic, not my inability to tell time that caused me to arrive late.

My boss, Jeremy, was a complete asshat and there was no point.

I left the kitchen and headed out into the main café area.

I walked over to a guy who looked two or three years older than me, who hadn't been served. He was sitting comfortably in a booth by himself, quietly reading a book.

"Hey, can I get you anything?"

He looked up and my eyes widened slightly. Man, this guy was good looking. His dark brown hair, the same colour as mine, was combed back messily, keeping it away from his chocolate brown eyes. High cheekbones and a soft jaw made him look innocent. He smiled slightly at me. "No thanks. I'm fine."

I bit the end of the pencil I was holding.

"I'm not trying to be rude or anything, seriously, but you should probably get at least a coffee or something, because my boss is a complete asshat and if he sees you here with no food or drink he will most likely kick you out or force you to buy something."

He raised a dark eyebrow. "You mean like exactly what you're doing now?" He grinned.

I grinned back. Was this guy flirting with me? In all honest I had no clue. "No you see," I replied, "I'm asking you politely."

He put his book down, smiling. "Well, I better buy something then," he took a quick look at the menu and then looked back at me, brown eyes staring into my blue ones. "Can you get me a cappuccino please?"

I gave him a lop-sided grin, "coming right up." I walked back behind the counter and I swear I could feel his eyes burning into my back.

I quickly made the coffee, fumbling a little bit as I did.

I was definitely flirting with the guy. It was kind of an unconscious reaction when I saw a good-looking one, but was he flirting with me? I shook my head; he was probably just being nice.

"Taylor! Get your head out of your arse and keep on working, there are hungry customers out there, I'm not paying you to stand around and stare at coffee makers!"

I rolled my eyes as I grabbed the cappuccino and started walking towards the customer. "Oh, bite me," I muttered under my breath.

I put the coffee in front of him and went to walk away when he said: "Taylor, huh?"

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Taylor. Good name."

"Oh," I smiled. "Taylor's my last name. My name's actually Adrian."

"Even better," he grinned and then lifted up the coffee. "Thanks."

I nodded. "No worries."

I walked halfway back to another table that hadn't been served when I looked back and saw him with his head in one of his hands and blushing profusely eyes, concentrated on his book. I pursed my lips and blushed as well, before turning back to the table and asking them what they wanted.

The rest of my shift was uneventful; the only notable thing was that the guy I had first served was still sitting at his booth, reading his book. I was thinking about going over there and saying something when Jeremy came up behind me and yanked the tie of my apron loose.

I yelped, startled as the apron slid off me.

"Your shift is over. I'll see you on Saturday. This time, don't be late, or else I'm docking your pay."

I nodded, taking one look at the guy reading and when he didn't look back up, I left.