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Jorge is leading us to his classroom, or that's what I'm assuming. It's not really the first thing on my mind.

My stomach is still fluttering with a million butterflies, I'm guessing little pink ones, after what Newt said to me. I give myself a little smile, looking at the floor as we're walking so no one sees the pink tinge arriving in my cheeks.

Newt was adorable. And I think it would be stupid of me to admit I didn't like him. I mean, Olivia and Lyra realised immediately.

I don't know if I believe Olivia when she says Newt likes me. I don't see why he would.

His words echo in my mind again:

Don't worry. I'm there for you.

Now my whole body was screaming, which I wouldn't even have thought possible.

Someone ends up walking next to me. I catch a bit of blonde hair, and my body tenses.

"You want to tell me what my brother said to you?" I let my body relax. It was just Olivia.

"Yes please! I'm dying to know." Lyra suddenly appears out of nowhere on my other side, nearly clapping from excitement.

"I'll tell you later." I decide. I wasn't risking other people overhearing.

Lyra makes a groaning noise. "You're physically killing me."

"I hope not." I say quickly, glancing at her. She's just laughing at me.

"Alright, everybody shut up!" Jorge suddenly shouts, and I jump up in shock. I watch Thomas mouth to Olivia 'icon'. She just shakes her head and smiles. "You can enter now, niños." He stands outside the door and looks at every child as they enter the classroom. When it's my turn to pass, I sneak a glance at him, who's staring at me with a penetrating look. I look down immediately. I hated staring eye-to-eye.

I enter the classroom. It's just a standard one, with tables and chairs and a teachers desk at the front. Nobody's sat down, however, they're all stood at the back, so I head over to join them, finding a place in between Olivia and Lyra.

When everybody is in the classroom, Jorge enters and stands at the front. "Split yourself into niños and niñas." Is all he says, and then he takes a seat behind his desk.

"Girls and boys?" I ask no one in particular.

"Sí." A girl says behind me somewhere. I turn around, and I see that the person who spoke was a girl with short cropped hair, with similar features to Jorge. "Name's Brenda." She sticks out her hand.

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