"You're going to be a model for fashion classes. For two months."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The principal's voice still rings in my head, and the coach's disapproving look still burns me.

A few days ago I got into a fight with an opposing team from my rugby team, and as captain, now I'll have to face the consequences.

We're alone in one of the fashion rooms. I'm without my uniform shirt while you measure my torso and shoulders.

"Of all people, why did I have to be the model for you, fashion girl?" I say, trying to sound annoyed, but I'm doing it to provoke you.