It's Friday, and since it's the beginning of the second semester we've all been given our new timetables and the whole school has been thrown into chaos ever since – all 525 of us.

Changes in our lives, classrooms, change in the times, kids losing their timetables, jigging classes, you name it. Unfortunately though, no teachers have been swapped. Just my luck, this afternoon I have a double Science class to end the week on and we've got Mr Dougherty – pronounced "dokk-kert-tee".

We call him The Doc for short. He's a Scotsman from Manchester in England with a really broad accent that half of the class doesn't quite understand. To make matters worse, we've got a practical lesson and we'll be dissecting sheep eyes. A bad move if you ask me.

We always work in groups of four or five during prac and The Doc never lets us choose who we work with, so we can focus on our work and not on our friends and what happened during the lunch break. Our group today is made up with me, Josh Webber, Seamus Gavin, Lizzy (Elizabeth) Moy and Charlotte Ringer.

The eyes were all donated by Cooper McGuiness' dad. Mr McGuiness is the local Butcher in town and about 6 feet tall, about 3 feet across the shoulders and hands like dinner plates. He used to be a big drinker when he was younger but his wife was killed in a car accident that involved a drunk driver. So, he gave up drinking when she died. He said he never wanted to be the cause of hurting anyone, breaking up a family or destroying other people's lives the way the woman had done to them.

Cooper's only in my Science and Technology classes and he's just like his dad. He's about the same size already and only 15 and he's the one who's always got a joke or two up his sleeve. I'd prefer to be in his group doing this dissection because he'd be cracking jokes left right and centre.

Josh Webber is a bit weird. His aunty is Mrs Jenkins from the store. Josh's dad's sister, so I think the weirdness runs in his Dad's side of the family. Josh doesn't like to talk much, or even laugh much for that matter so you really can't say he's a nice guy or anything. He's not particularly bright. I'd say he's average size, average height, average weight, average hair length and average in looks. If I had to describe him I'd say; the most average person you could ever want to meet. Sad but true! There's nothing really noteworthy about him. No not true… One thing he is really good at is copying answers. He's the biggest cheat you'll ever find but he's never been caught! I can't work that one out.

Seamus Gavin on the other hand is pretty smart. Not as smart as me and I'm not bragging when I say it, I'm just being honest. He's smart none the less and he doesn't stop talking. The only time you get to say anything when Seamus is around is when he takes a breath and that's not very often during prac lessons. Seamus is the youngest of 6 boys from a "Good Irish Catholic Family" (well that's what his Mum says anyway) and doesn't get the chance to say much at home so he makes up for it at school.

His brother Lucas is our school captain and debating captain… and swimming champion… and football champion… andcross country running champion, and about five foot ten inches with jet black hair, blue eyes, perfect teeth, huge pecks and heaps of girlfriends. He's probably dated all the year 11 and 12 chicks in his school life except for my sister Jane – she won't have a bar of him.

Seamus on the other hand is not much of a chick-magnet. He's a dead set "RANGA" of the first degree. He's got copper-red hair, white skin, freckles, bucked-teeth, blue eyes, weighing in at about 90 kilograms and a chunky six foot tall and unlike his brothers has no real sporting talent. He's a bit like that truck named "Mater" in the movie CARS except that he's heaps smarter. Seamus that is, not Mater. He's probably my best mate at school but he's got a bit of a hygiene problem. He pongs! I really have to have another quiet word to him about using deodorant.

Then there's Lizzy Moy (oh – "sigh", boy oh boy Lizzy Moy – "sigh"). Her folks own the Chinese restaurant at the end of High street. Her mum was from a wealthy English family that lived down in the city and her dad's a first generation Chinese Australian whose family lived somewhere down that way too and owned a string of restaurants. I'm so thankful they decided to open one out in the sticks! Lizzy's really smart, but doesn't talk much. She's really pretty, no beautiful. She's got perfect caramel coloured skin, big brown eyes, long black hair that she always wears up in a piggy-tail with a red bow in it and has a perfect mouth. When she talks she has a slight lisp which is so gorgeous… Arrh, rewind! What am I saying? Enough!

Charlotte Ringer is super quiet and like Josh doesn't laugh either. She's always texting someone when she thinks no-one is looking and I've often seen her write "lol" on her phone. What a contradiction. LAUGH OUT LOUD really? Not! I've never seen her smile let alone laugh out loud. Charlotte never interacts with anyone or does anything. She just there – a bit non-descript really. I think she has fair hair but I'm not sure? Even as I look at her there's nothing spectacular.

Anyway – yes the science prac, let's get to it. The lab assistant Ms Grimshaw has just handed out the last tray of eyes. "eewh" we hear from the back of the classroom. "No I think mine's a ram" Cooper said, "They're all rams!" Yep Cooper's off to a flying start. I had to explain to Charlotte why the most of the class had broken up laughing. The eewh that came from the back of the class room was in referred as to how gross the eye looked. Cooper in his infinite wisdom was referring to the sexes of the animal. Ewe v's Ram.

Cooper said his dad had taken the eyes out earlier in the week but The Doc had kept the eyes in the staffroom fridge til now because he didn't get a delivery of new scalpel blades he'd ordered. So by the time we received the eyes second last period on Friday they were a little more slimy, slightly more green than they should have been and a whole lot more smelly. Charlotte started to gag when the combination of Seamus' sweaty body odour and the five day old eyes started to mingle. The stale air in the science room didn't help the situation either. It had been too cold to open the windows The Doc had said so we'd all have to put up with a little discomfort from the slight smell. Slight smell – my foot!

The Doc had blurted out some unfathomable directions on how the whole procedure of the eye dissection was to be undertaken but of course, two-thirds of the class didn't understand, and the other third either understood and didn't care to follow the instructions or understood him but still had no idea anyway. We were left to our own devices. There was never any real clear and definite direction in our science class.

I'd thankfully been given the job of filming the procedure. Within the first five minutes, Seamus had managed to snap the rusty scalpel blade into two while trying to cut through the nerves and fatty tissue around the eye. Josh was looking very professional wearing his bright green protective glasses, oversized white lab-coat and non-latex gloves. He held a pair of bull-nosed forceps in his left hand snap, snap, snapping them like a crocodile and making strange arrh, arrh, arrh sounds at the girls. I think this was his feeble attempt at trying to be funny or flirting or something?

Every so often some stray person would wander over to take a look. That's just what happens in science…

Seamus wandered off to see if he could quietly swap or swipe more like it another scalpel from an unsuspecting group from off their table.

No luck – they could all see him coming and suspected what he was up to and protected their equipment like a magpie with her chicks. By the time Seamus returned, Josh was attacking the eye with the forceps. Each time he jabbed the eye it would slip away in one direction or another.

He managed to grab a small piece of flesh on the side of the eye and as he did, Seamus came swooping in with his broken scalpel. Pop right in the side. Out oozed this disgusting black coloured goop. "Ohhhh Gross!" the three of us moaned. The girls weren't even watching, they'd turned away just as Seamus went in for the kill.

It was five to three and the bell was about to go. Seamus' powerful body odour, the smell of the five day old rotten eyes, the sight of the black goop and stuffy air of the science room had taken its toll. I put my hand over my mouth but it was too late. The pressure from my lunch coming back out of my stomach at a rate of knots was too great and the gaps between my fingers were close enough to create a fountain effect.

I'd spewed jets of colour at maximum velocity and it couldn't be stopped. Seamus and Josh saw what was happening and moved hastily out of the way, tripping over chairs and spilling two trays of eyes from neighbouring tables onto the floor and slipping over in the process. Lizzy and Charlotte turned to see what all the commotion was and found themselves sprayed from head to toe. I may have just lost my chance with Lizzy Moy…