At one side of the street refuge that accommodated the tram station, there was, partly to prevent waiting passengers from falling between the cars passing behind it, but mostly to force latecomers trying to catch a tram to use the pedestrian crossing instead of dashing across the street at the nearest convenient spot, an iron balustrade. Martin discovered that the old one had been ripped out and replaced by a new one, presumably after it had been totally demolished in a traffic accident. If it had just been dented a little, they wouldn't have replaced it in such a hurry, not before adorning the new one with that corrugated metal strip that is affixed to the top to prevent you from sitting on it. So, of course, all the pupils were sitting on the banister that day.

Now Martin, of course, being a pupil, had to take a seat on the banister as well. He headed for Vanessa, the one with the long, black hair, who had her feet at the lower rail of the balustrade and held onto the upper rail with her hands, her arms fully stretched so she could keep her balance with little effort. Martin observed the distance between her clenching hand and her bum, and out of a sudden vagary, he sat down, leaving between the hand and his own bum a gap that was considerably smaller, even though there would have been enough unoccupied railing to the other side. He placed his hand at the balustrade symetrically to Vanessa's, i.e. between her hand and her bum, so their arms were kind of crossing, but as he was a bit taller, his arm was at a steeper angle and he could bend his elbow just so much that their arms were almost, but not quite, touching. Martin was most pleased that again he had been able to succesfully demonstrate his exceeding cleverness.

With bated breath, he inched even a bit closer, and noted to his greatest satisfaction that she was doing the same, so their hands were touching each other's behinds. Leaning over to him, she raised her soft voice just above a whisper: "Have you got the math homework?" Martin had expected a question rather along the lines of wheter he'd prefer to hit her and run away or try to lick her tonsils out. This girl obviously had no idea she was talking to a man skilled in the art of love.