Him with his crinkly turning-up smile. And his really nice, slightly curly, dark blond hair, and hands and legs. And so on. But then I remembered what Charlie had done to me the last time I had seen him. Swine.

Boy swine. I would give him my icy icicle treatment. I didn’t smile back at him. I just looked away.

Then Ben smiled at me. Oh yes. With his floppy hair and his bat kissing. Yeah, his bat kissing and then saying that I was too young for him. Swine. Floppy-haired swine.

All boys are swines.

They snog you and dump you. Or lick your face. Or put bats in your mouth. Apart from Alex, who wouldn’t dream of licking your face and even if he did I would probably like it and, and …

Charlie was still panting but he said to me, “Oy, oy, Tallulah, we meet again. I’ve got a top view of your exceptional knees here, wrapped up in what look like dance tights. Have you got any snacks?”

I became icicle-like. I was an icicle in dance tights. I stepped down from the stump, trying to hide my knees, and said coolly, “Hello, Charles, I’m afraid I have no snacks, sadly. Why don’t you eat your sausage?”

Charlie looked at me in amazement.

Vaisey said, “You’ve got your secret crisp stash, Lullah.”

I didn’t say anything.

Charlie said, “Lullah, it’s me!”

Jo leapt down from the stump, threw herself into his lap, and gave him a huge hug. She said, “Charlie, Charlie. I’ve got a banana you can have.”

Charlie gave her a big hug and took the banana.

There he goes again. Hugging. Eating people’s bananas.

I know about his type.

A type that hugs a friend. (Also known as me.) And then pretends that he likes that friend’s knees. And is all round friendly and huggy. And then goes from hugging to snogging. And does good knee-trembling snogging. Then stops and says, “This is wrong, I’ve got a girlfriend.” And then goes back to his stupid pocket-sized girlfriend to hug her. Leaving a trail of hugs.

While I was wondering what to do next, Jo said, “Charlie, where’s Phil? How come he’s not with you? Is he in detention already?”

Charlie put his arm around her. I couldn’t help it—I felt a bit jealous. Of my own pal. But Charlie, the serial hugger, is in fact very good-looking and when he smiles his mouth turns up at one side. It’s a very nice shape mouth and you can actually imagine it pressing against your … Oh no! I have forgotten my icicle work.

Charlie hugged Jo a bit more and said in his deep voice, “Er, no, he’s not in detention. He’s not even at Woolfe. Phil’s not coming back to Woolfe.”

Jo leapt up.

“What do you mean Phil’s not coming back to Woolfe??”

Oh no.

Jo’s little face was all red and hot.

Her conker head was bobbing furiously.

“He didn’t even tell me. Doesn’t he like me anymore? I didn’t even punch him very hard and he—”