It's not that I hadn't seen the inside of the lion's den. Last year, when I set a school record for the hundred metres backstroke, Mr Boen summoned me into his room to congratulate me. I knew I wasn't there to be punished but to be praised, but it was still unnerving to be in the same room where other students had been caned.

Now here I was, about to enter that room again. And this time, there would be no praise. I didn't need a large dose of imagination to see that I would be reprimanded, maybe even caned. Or could things be uglier? Could I be facing a suspension? That new notion dropped through my throat and splashed heavily into my stomach, taking its place beside the first thought about pretty girls. My abdomen felt tighter than a clenched fist, making my insides churn.

Thinking of pretty girls brought me back to Deb. The pleasant memories squirrelled away were now tinged with a sourness that I could taste. But could I really blame everything on Deb? If I was honest, I really couldn't pin any of this on her. Except for her being too pretty that is. Sometimes, it hurt to look at her, that's how beautiful she was.

"Will you stop making that irritating noise?"

Ronald's grating voice made me stop rocking the chair, not because I was obeying him, but because I was forcing myself to be calm. Like a surveillance camera swivelling around, I turned to study him with narrowed eyes.

His face was a mask of hatred, lips curled in an ugly scowl. His left eye was swollen and bruised, its radiating blue and green rings put there by me. Seeing it again made the corners of my mouth flicker up.

"What're you grinning about?" He clenched a fist over his knee, a silent threat to me.

"Your sorry face." I was barely able to hold back another grin. I couldn't stop myself from provoking him. Even knowing I was about to meet the principal because of it couldn't stop me.

"Watch your mouth," he growled before looking away.

Without realising it, I resumed rocking back and forth. Ronald snapped his head around again and wagged a finger at me. His anger twisted his face in a comical fashion, like Captain Haddock's from the Tin Tin comics.

"I said stop it," he repeated.

I lifted my chin, inviting him to take a swing. "Make me."

His hand squeezed tight until the knuckles glowed white. But he had to control himself. If he hit me again, that would be the end of him. He took a deep breath, filling out his big, rugby player's frame. Some primitive instinct made me sit upright too, trying to remind him I was no runt. I was taller than he was. He sensed what I was doing and puffed himself up further. We were like peacocks with tails in full display, trying to outdo each other. Then with a heavy snort, Ronald relaxed and sat back in his chair. I slouched in mine and we sat once more in stony silence.

A minute later, he cleared his throat. "Look, we're both in big trouble. There's no escaping it."

I didn't say anything but motioned for him to continue. He stole a glance at the principal's door before speaking again.

"I think there's no need to get Deb in trouble." When he said her name, the hardness on his face softened. The dark lines around his eyes and mouth faded and a pleading note crept into his voice.

"I had no intention of doing that, you moron." As much as I hated him, he was right but that didn't mean I had to be agreeable. Ronald was making a visible effort not to react to my insult. He rubbed his hands on the front of his pants and forced himself to breathe slowly.

"I'm not going to say anything about you kissing her," he said finally. He spat the word kissing, making it sound like the angry hiss of a snake. "If I told Boen what I saw you doing to her, that would get her in really big trouble."

"Saw what I was doing to her?" I leaned menacingly toward him. "You weren't there. You never saw who kissed who first."

"I don't care who did," he said, but from the crazy flickering in his eyes, I knew he did. "I just don't want you to blab about it, understand? I don't want to get her in any trouble."

"I'm not that stupid," I told him.

"I hope not. Otherwise, I'll squash you." He mashed a fist into the palm of the other hand.

"Don't flatter yourself," I said calmly, "you couldn't squash me even with the help of your whole rugby team."

I could sense him fighting the urge to pounce on me. I hated his guts, his arrogance, the snobbish way he'd treated me from the moment I met him but despite all that, I had to admit he was noble in his attempt to save Deb.

I couldn't do any less.

"Control yourself." I raised a warning hand. "I don't want Deb in any trouble either. So don't worry. I won't say anything stupid." He exhaled heavily, the tension leaving his body like air from a balloon. He leaned back in his chair, resting his head against the wall, looking relaxed for the first time since we sat down. I relaxed too, knowing at least that neither of us would make things worse for Deb.

There was a scratching on Mr Boen's door. Someone inside was turning the door knob. Deb's interrogation was done. It was either Ronald's turn or mine. My throat tightened as my heart strove to break out of its rib cage. It was time to stick my neck through the guillotine. I only hoped the blade was sharp and quick.