As soon as the lesson has ended, students begin filing out of the Religious Studies classroom - but not me.
I stay at my desk, pretending to write something in the margins of my workbook, praying against all hope that everyone will just leave me the hell alone.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that Ezra hasn't left yet either. He's still sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair, studying me. I can't see his face from this angle but I already know that he's smiling that irritating smug grin of his.
He's loving every second of this. Bastard.
Ahead of me, I see Sister Evelyn carefully close her heavy King James Bible, before picking it up off the lectern and tucking it under one arm, a stack of worn and faded books from the shelf behind her tucked under the other. I feel her
