Raine Sengupta

Quick Facts

Raine Sengupta (also called “Lorraine”) is a stylish, sharp-tongued member of the school’s “cool” crowd who becomes the truest friend and ally to Frances Janvier. First seen as a fun, slightly distant social presence, she emerges as the first school friend to embrace Frances’s authentic, nerdy self—then proves indispensable in the search for Carys Last and in protecting Aled Last. Key ties: confidante to Frances; wary sparring partner/road-trip companion to Daniel Jun; pragmatic judge of Aled who still shows up for him.

• Also known as: Lorraine
• Role: Catalyst, protector, blunt truth-teller; driver and de facto logistics lead in the story’s climax
• Path: Works long hours to afford her car; applies for apprenticeships rather than university
• Distinctive look: Half-shaved hair (later dyed silver), pop-punk fashion, always “indie-mag cool”

Who She Is

Raine is the friend who sees through performance. She’s funny, forthright, and outwardly unbothered, but what matters is her instinct for people: she spots “School Frances” versus “Real Frances” and chooses the real one without hesitation. Her coolness isn’t aloofness—it’s armor for a fiercely loyal moral core. When the plot needs someone to act, Raine is the one who gets in the car, makes the plan, and cuts through the noise.

Physical Description

Raine is an Indian girl with an evolving, statement-making aesthetic. Early on, the right side of her head is shaved; later, she dyes her hair silver. Her wardrobe—Harrington jacket, white platform trainers, pastel blue bomber—reads as effortless pop-punk. Frances observes that she looks like she belongs in “an indie magazine you can only order online,” a visual shorthand for Raine’s confident nonconformity.

Personality & Traits

Raine blends deadpan humor and internet-slang bluntness with a deep, practical care for her friends. She isn’t sentimental, but she is reliable, and her judgments—sometimes cutting—are usually accurate. Crucially, her pragmatism comes from experience: she’s working-class, saving for a car, eyeing apprenticeships, and wary of privilege masquerading as pain.

• Outspoken and blunt
  • Evidence: She peppers conversation with “tbh” and delivers unvarnished takes on relationships and drama (“Boys are weak.”).
  • Significance: Her candor pushes friends past self-delusion; she’s the narrative’s anti-fluff filter.
• Protective and loyal
  • Evidence: At Spoons she promises to “accidentally” spill her drink on any guy who bothers Frances; later, she shields Frances when Daniel shouts and ultimately drives a six-hour rescue.
  • Significance: Loyalty isn’t performative for Raine; it’s action.
• Perceptive
  • Evidence: She clocks Frances’s unhappiness—“You’ve been moping around like a damp biscuit, mate”—and names the gap between “School Frances” and “Real Frances.”
  • Significance: Raine recognizes identity slippage before Frances fully does, nudging the identity arc forward.
• Pragmatic, class-conscious, and grounded
  • Evidence: She works long hours to afford her car, applies for apprenticeships instead of university, and initially calls Aled a “privileged prik” for complaining despite success.
  • Significance: Her perspective punctures the novel’s academic elitism and reframes what “success” can look like.
• Moral compass under a rebellious exterior
  • Evidence: She despises gossip (e.g., “Bacon Legs”), refuses to let friends be humiliated, and acts decisively during the climax.
  • Significance: Behind the quips is a clear sense of right and wrong that guides the plot’s turning points.

Character Journey

Raine evolves from a “cool friend” at school to the person who safeguards Frances’s transition into authenticity—a shift central to Identity and Authenticity. Early on, she treats Frances with warmth but keeps things light; once she senses the dissonance between Frances’s high-achieving facade and her real interests, she validates the latter, complimenting Frances’s “pop-punk” jacket and normalizing her weirdness. As trust deepens, Raine learns about Universe City, offers tactical advice (even when cynical), and—crucially—creates practical solutions: noticing Carol’s Filofax, plotting how to find Carys, and literally driving the team into the climax. By the end, she bridges Frances’s school image and private life, proving that the right friend group doesn’t just accept your real self—they enable it.

Key Relationships

• Frances Janvier
  Raine moves from party buddy to anchor. She praises, teases, and protects Frances in equal measure, offering a kind of friendship that’s neither competitive nor conditional. Her “You deserve better friends. You’re a sunshine angel” both affirms Frances’s worth and rejects the toxic pressures surrounding her.

• Daniel Jun
  Though Raine mistrusts Daniel’s judgment and calls him out when he targets Frances, she still drives him to his Cambridge interview. Their uneasy alliance shows Raine’s ethics: she’ll help even those she dislikes if it serves what’s right and supports Frances.

• Aled Last
  Raine initially reads Aled’s distress as privileged whining, skeptical of someone with “top uni” prospects and a hit channel complaining. Yet when it matters, she prioritizes safety over judgment—organizing the plan, driving the rescue, and refusing to let him be harmed.

• Carys Last
  Raine meets Carys near the end and immediately offers to talk about “university alternatives,” translating her own experience into practical support. Their connection underscores the book’s Coming of Age emphasis on building futures that fit the person, not the prestige.

Defining Moments

Raine’s biggest beats reveal a pattern: she defends, she decides, and she drives—literally and figuratively.

• Offering protection at Spoons
  • What happens: She tells Frances she’ll spill her drink on any “disgusting guys” who bother her.
  • Why it matters: Establishes Raine’s default mode—active, physical loyalty—not just comforting words.
• The Cambridge drive
  • What happens: She volunteers to drive Frances and Daniel six hours for their interviews.
  • Why it matters: Demonstrates generosity and commitment; it’s also the moment she becomes logistics leader, not background friend.
• The Filofax plan
  • What happens: Raine spots Carol Last’s Filofax and realizes it might contain Carys’s address; a messy “steal it” idea becomes the seed of a workable plan.
  • Why it matters: Her initiative converts gossip and suspicion into tangible clues and action.
• The rescue mission
  • What happens: She yells, “GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!” and becomes the getaway driver to reach Aled at university.
  • Why it matters: This is Raine distilled—decisive, protective, and brave—turning friendship into real-world intervention.

Symbolism

Raine embodies the power of chosen family and the ethics of showing up. As a figure of Platonic Friendship and Love, she proves that care is something you do. Her apprenticeship path and class-aware pragmatism model Finding Your Voice and Pursuing Passion outside prestige metrics; she broadens what success looks like for Frances and, by extension, the reader. Her changing hair—half-shaved, then silver—visualizes self-authorship and nonconformity, qualities she helps Frances claim for herself.

Essential Quotes

“Not even worth it, mate. Boys are weak. They don’t even want to kiss you afterwards.”
Raine’s comedic bluntness cuts through romantic mystique, functioning as both joke and shield. The line typifies how she protects her friends from harm by reframing situations with deflationary clarity.

“If any disgusting guys come up to you, I’ll just accidentally spill my drink on them.”
Under the humor is a promise of action. Raine’s protection is embodied, not theoretical—Frances even notes she’s done it before—establishing trust early.

“He has no right to complain about anything. He’s literally living the perfect life. Top uni, got a successful YouTube channel, what’s he moping about??”
This snap judgment reveals Raine’s class-conscious skepticism and her blind spots. The story then challenges this view, and Raine adapts—showing that her pragmatism can evolve into empathy.

“You deserve better friends. You’re a sunshine angel.”
An unguarded affirmation that crystallizes Raine’s role in Frances’s identity arc. She names Frances’s value and implicitly rejects the toxic expectations of “School Frances.”

“GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!”
A rallying cry that turns friendship into movement. The urgency and profanity encapsulate Raine’s ethos: when stakes are high, stop debating—drive.