It was a chilly morning. Norah tugged down the sleeves of her cardigan to keep her hands warm and wondered briefly if Rafe knew what ten o'clock sharp meant. It was ten thirty. For a person desperate to learn, he didn't look like he was in a hurry.

As she immersed herself back into her book, she heard loud but idle footsteps from the bottom of the stairs.

Sure enough, the Italian sauntered up, and after a quick scan of the empty library, he grabbed a seat opposite her. He looked dishevelled, unshaven, and tired. How he still managed to look this good was a mystery Norah would never solve.

He dumped his books, a crumpled piece of paper, and a pen onto the table. The mess that he created in a split second annoyed Norah further. She sat rigid, her book in hand, and stared at him hard. He had a messy aura about him.

He caught her glare and threw his backpack on the floor. "What?"

"Why are you late?"

He groaned. "I barely got up this morning," Rafe explained, rubbing his temples. From the mild smell of alcohol, she guessed he was nursing a hangover. "I've never woken up earlier than twelve on a weekend." Looking at the clock, he looked oddly proud of himself.

"Why?"

"Went out to a pub last night."

"So that's your excuse?" Norah chided.

"What is your problem?" he said. "I showed up didn't I? So I'm a little late, I'm still paying you for the full hour. And any additional charges or whatever," he said it as if he was the one doing Norah a favour and not the other way around.

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then Norah reached into her pocked, crushed the fifty-pound note in both of her hands as if moulding a snowball, and flicked it in his face.

"Donna pazza! What the fuck?" he said as he bent down to reach the note that bounced off his face and onto the floor.

"This isn't about the money. This is once again about your foul manners. This was a mistake after all," she said, standing up.

"Okay, okay..." he said putting his hands up, and then had the cheek to smirk, "where's the broom closet?"

She shut her book and grabbed her bag.

Rafe jumped out of his seat to block her way out. "Where are you going?"

"I knew this wasn't going to work. You got your full refund. Now get out of my way."

Rafe rubbed his face but would not move. "Why are you making this so damn difficult? I thought we had a deal."

"We did. It was to meet at 10.00 sharp."

"Seriously? You're mad that I'm thirty minutes late?"

"Yes, because I need you to respect my time. I know you pay for it, but it's not an excuse for your terrible behaviour or tardiness."

"Being late is hardly terrible behaviour. I think you're being over-dramatic here," Rafe said.

"Oh yeah? How were you planning on studying? You look like crap. You feel like crap. You smell like crap."

He looked affronted and sniffed his shirt. "No I don't—"

"You have to meet me halfway. Literally, for starters!" she said looking at the clock. "Keep your money. I will not let you waste my time."

"Hey," Rafe said. His playful facade disappeared as he realised just how serious she was.

Before she could head out, he grabbed her by the shoulders, and it threw Norah off. She didn't particularly welcome physical contact from anyone expect Benny or Nana.

"Sit down. Please."

After a moment of hesitation, she did as he asked. Nana always narrated her consciousness, told her that everyone deserved a second chance.

"Okay, I'm sorry that I was late and that... I smell, apparently. Let's set some rules. I won't be late again. I promise."

"And won't drink heavily before or on the day we are supposed to be studying," Norah added.

"Yes, that too, but—"

"And just because you pay me doesn't mean you can expect no effort or manners on your behalf."

"Okay."

"And you will be neat. Invest in good stationary, notebooks, and plastic wallets. You need to be organised physically to concentrate mentally. You will do everything according to my instruction."

His faced soured. "Christ is that necessary-"

"We're doing this my way or no way." She crossed her arms. The black frames of her glasses reflected the morning sun, and he couldn't help but notice her hair was just as shiny and just as black.

"Fine," he said with exasperation. "Are you done?"

Norah replied with a curt nod, her straight ponytail bobbing behind her.

"But I have some rules too," he said with a pointed finger, "I refuse to be up before ten o'clock on weekends. Unlike you, I have a life."

"Fine," she replied, unfazed by the comment. What life could one possibly have in such a small town? "Is that it?"

"Yes. Oh, and don't fall in love with me," he said. His tone was serious, but he added a wink.

Norah blinked. "Any realistic rules?"

He chuckled. "I warned you. So anyway, are we cool?" He said cheekily.

"I have one more thing to ask of you," she replied businesslike.

"Oh Madonna, what else?"

She stood up and made him stand up too, ignoring his questioning look.

"I will step on your foot."

"What? Why?" he blurted out.

She sighed. "Because you stepped on my foot, remember?"

How could I not, Rafe thought grimly. "So?"

"So if you step on my foot, I have to step on yours."

"What are you, five? No piss off, these are Loro Pianas," he pointed at his loafers.

"It's hard to explain but you jinxed me."

Rafe looked sceptical. "You have some freaky foot fetish. I knew it. It's always the quiet ones that are kinky."

Norah reddened. "It's not a fetish, it's... superstition."

"Fine, for the love of god, go for it," he said and Norah lightly pressed on foot. She felt the balance restore in the universe and felt much lighter. It felt now her body had balance. Everything should be back to normal from now on.

"Thank you," she said and sat back down on her chair.

"Are you happy now?" He asked with a hint of amusement and confusion, sitting back down.

"Yes," she said before grabbing his stuff. "Anyway, let's see what you have here," Norah said and reached for the mess on the desk. She began stacking the books neatly to one side.

Rafe produced a crumpled paper with his last year's transcripts. She began scanning the grades whilst Rafe waited. Norah began scribbling something in her notepad.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm converting your marks to percentages to see what you have to achieve this year for a B grade. A if we're lucky."

"What convinced you to help me?" he asked, breaking the deafening silence of the library. He grew bored with waiting for her to finish her calculations. And the small, judgemental glances she sent his way every time she saw a new grade weren't exactly encouraging. "Was it the money? Or the kindness of your good heart?" he made sure the last part was dripping with sarcasm. "You were so against the idea in that box you call a shop."

Norah shrugged, not tearing her eyes away from the grades. "Bit of both. I figured I could make some money and it would look good on my CV."

"You see? It's a win-win deal. May I call you sensei?" he asked with a grin.

"Depends. Are you being a racist about it?"

Rafe looked taken aback. "Of course not... just thought it sounds cool...you know like in Karate Kid."

She looked confused at the movie reference but shrugged, regardless. "If you want..."

"You've never heard of Karate kid?" He asked with surprise. She slowly shook her head. "Looks like I'll have to educate you too..."

Norah set paper back on the desk in front of them. "Explain to me why all your course works have such high grades?"

"I purchased them."

"Ah, so that explains your terrible exam marks, couldn't purchase those, could you?"

Rafe shrugged in response. He really had no excuse. He hated studying.

Norah blew out a sigh. "Well thanks to them, you can still achieve high grades this year with some effort. We will create a detailed plan of which subjects we cover on which days. And then we'll practice, practice, and practice. Which university are you hoping for?"

"LBU."

"Oh. That's quite a goal."

Rafe clenched and unclenched his hand. She briefly observed the old scars on his knuckles from his previous fights. She also noticed that he shook his leg again. A habit that drove her insane during English classes, especially when she needed to concentrate.

"Why is this so important to you?" she asked.

"My dad said if I don't get my shit together I can say goodbye to my assets, trust funds, and freedom. He thinks I'm an absolute disappointment. For once I'd like to prove him wrong."

"By getting into a good university?"

"Yes that, and last a year without trouble. I had to move to three different schools because I got into fights. Constant suspensions and expulsions and detentions. My family had enough. So they placed me in this shit hole."

Norah glared at him, hurt by the use of words in reference to her hometown.

He raised his hands. "No offence," he muttered.

"You know we will have our fair share of disagreements whilst I'm tutoring you. I better not have a broken nose at the end of our sessions," Norah said, her eyes flicking to his fists.

Rafe frowned. "Cazzo. I'd never hit a girl."

"Good. Let's get started then."