text: As usual I was watching Jane.
  We were sitting in
  a cubicled area, shielded from the others. We were alone.
  She was working on the maths
  problems that I had solved earlier while she accepted the
  adoration of another; her friend had
  stroked on layer after layer of blood red
  nail polish in supplication. I noticed Jane's
  She wrote neatly but ornately, using a circle to dot her
  while I scrawled rapidly for fear that the flow of ideas
  would outpace my writing speed. She had a plethora of
  coloured pens and pencils
  to my single chewed biro. Her folders were
  brightly decorated altars to various icons; mine were plain.
  She was concentrating hard, her head low over the desk, intent
  on her work.
  Her long brown hair kept falling over her notepad
  and she repetitively swept it away with
  an irritated gesture. Each time she seemed
  annoyed afresh that the hair was still there.
  As she inhaled and exhaled the sweater clad foothills of
  her breasts rose
  and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell.
  Absently she slipped her necklace over her chin and
  arched, so that it caught there, a rigid curve.
  I think she enjoyed the taut feeling.
  She checked an answer with me and when I told her it was wrong
  she beckoned me to sit by her,
  intoxicatingly close. I hastily acceded to her wish, and mine.
  Now I was near enough to inhale her clean girl scent.
  She took the luteous chain between her lips and I could almost
  taste its metallic tang.
  My thigh brushed hers and I involuntarily
  She impatiently tap-tap-tapped her pen on the page and I refocused,
  quickly spotting the sign error and it's
  consequences. I didn't immediately reveal this, though.
  I wanted to extend the moment, glorying in
  the feeling that for once it was her eyes on me. But intellectual
  egotism soon triumphed and I imperiously
  corrected the errors with swift, confident pen strokes.
  She was bright,
  the only one
  worth talking to, so she was entitled
  to a suspicious frown, as she checked my
  working. But yes, this time the terms cancelled
  and she smiled her assent.
  I breathed in her aroma, felt the warmth of her
  exalted in her approval. Certain that
  she must want me, I said
  "Jane...you know I...like you?"
  Immediately I knew it was a mistake.
  I felt the horror of the "Halloween" teen
  the instant before he is butcher-knifed to the
  wall. I silently reproached myself
  for believing she
  could be interested in me.
  I awaited the sharpened steel blade of my fate.
  She smiled and took hold of my head with both hands. Her palms
  were slightly damp on my reddening cheeks. Hope sparked in me
  as I dared to believe that this was important for her too.
  She tilted my face so that I was looking directly
  into her eyes. I could feel myself dissolving into them as she
  me toward her. She was going to kiss me. She was going to kiss me.
  At the last moment she planted her moist lips just above my eyes.
  Her wordless message was clear: you're sweet but I don't want you.
  I felt unbearably exposed. Now
  I couldn't wait for her
  to leave me alone.
  She collected up her books. She collected up her folders.
  She collected up her pencils. It seemed to take an age and all the time
  I burned. Then she walked away. Her hips undulated beautifully as she moved,
  or at least
  I imagined they did, with my anointed forehead on the desk.
explanation: The text is a narrative describing a scene where the narrator is observing and interacting with a girl named Jane. The narrator is helping Jane with her math problems, and there is a moment where Jane checks an answer with the narrator, who corrects her. The text contains a math question and an answer within the context of the narrative.
distilabel_metadata.content: Evaluate the user given text extract and determine if it contains a math question and optionally and answer to this question.
  
  Output rules:
  
  1. Briefly describe the document and mention if it contains a question or a question and answer.
  2. Finalize the output with: Label: no-question,question,question-and-answer,multiple-question,multiple-question-and-answer
distilabel_metadata.role: system
distilabel_metadata.content: As usual I was watching Jane.
  We were sitting in
  a cubicled area, shielded from the others. We were alone.
  She was working on the maths
  problems that I had solved earlier while she accepted the
  adoration of another; her friend had
  stroked on layer after layer of blood red
  nail polish in supplication. I noticed Jane's
  She wrote neatly but ornately, using a circle to dot her
  while I scrawled rapidly for fear that the flow of ideas
  would outpace my writing speed. She had a plethora of
  coloured pens and pencils
  to my single chewed biro. Her folders were
  brightly decorated altars to various icons; mine were plain.
  She was concentrating hard, her head low over the desk, intent
  on her work.
  Her long brown hair kept falling over her notepad
  and she repetitively swept it away with
  an irritated gesture. Each time she seemed
  annoyed afresh that the hair was still there.
  As she inhaled and exhaled the sweater clad foothills of
  her breasts rose
  and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell.
  Absently she slipped her necklace over her chin and
  arched, so that it caught there, a rigid curve.
  I think she enjoyed the taut feeling.
  She checked an answer with me and when I told her it was wrong
  she beckoned me to sit by her,
  intoxicatingly close. I hastily acceded to her wish, and mine.
  Now I was near enough to inhale her clean girl scent.
  She took the luteous chain between her lips and I could almost
  taste its metallic tang.
  My thigh brushed hers and I involuntarily
  She impatiently tap-tap-tapped her pen on the page and I refocused,
  quickly spotting the sign error and it's
  consequences. I didn't immediately reveal this, though.
  I wanted to extend the moment, glorying in
  the feeling that for once it was her eyes on me. But intellectual
  egotism soon triumphed and I imperiously
  corrected the errors with swift, confident pen strokes.
  She was bright,
  the only one
  worth talking to, so she was entitled
  to a suspicious frown, as she checked my
  working. But yes, this time the terms cancelled
  and she smiled her assent.
  I breathed in her aroma, felt the warmth of her
  exalted in her approval. Certain that
  she must want me, I said
  "Jane...you know I...like you?"
  Immediately I knew it was a mistake.
  I felt the horror of the "Halloween" teen
  the instant before he is butcher-knifed to the
  wall. I silently reproached myself
  for believing she
  could be interested in me.
  I awaited the sharpened steel blade of my fate.
  She smiled and took hold of my head with both hands. Her palms
  were slightly damp on my reddening cheeks. Hope sparked in me
  as I dared to believe that this was important for her too.
  She tilted my face so that I was looking directly
  into her eyes. I could feel myself dissolving into them as she
  me toward her. She was going to kiss me. She was going to kiss me.
  At the last moment she planted her moist lips just above my eyes.
  Her wordless message was clear: you're sweet but I don't want you.
  I felt unbearably exposed. Now
  I couldn't wait for her
  to leave me alone.
  She collected up her books. She collected up her folders.
  She collected up her pencils. It seemed to take an age and all the time
  I burned. Then she walked away. Her hips undulated beautifully as she moved,
  or at least
  I imagined they did, with my anointed forehead on the desk.
distilabel_metadata.role: user
distilabel_metadata.raw_output_q_a_detector_0: The text is a narrative describing a scene where the narrator is observing and interacting with a girl named Jane. The narrator is helping Jane with her math problems, and there is a moment where Jane checks an answer with the narrator, who corrects her. The text contains a math question and an answer within the context of the narrative.
  
  Label: question-and-answer