‘Oh!’ Elle finally says. ‘Do you mean this?’ She rummages at the very back of her cupboard. She doesn’t even have it on her bookshelf.

It’s dusty, and there’s a mark on the cover that didn’t exist when Mum gave it to me. It might just be a book to Elle, like all the other ones she has, but it’s special to me. It means something. And right now I wish I had never given it away.

‘You can have it back,’ Elle says, like I let her use my hairbrush. ‘That reminds me! Can I borrow your boots this weekend? Matty’s taking me to a trampoline park, so I need something comfy.’

‘Um . . . I guess,’ I say.

‘Awesome. Sit next to each other on Monday, yeah? Then I can tell you all about it.’

I don’t respond or say that I quite like sitting next to Izzy and spending lunch with Gini and Charlotte. This always happens with Elle. She gets annoyed at me and I wait for her to stop being mad. But things are different this time, I just don’t know how to say that.

I say my goodbyes then, and Elle waves me off from her bed. As I make my way into the hallway I notice the stained-glass window that looks out into Elle’s perfect garden. But instead of grass and apple trees and sun, it transforms into sand and palm trees and stars.

Mum and Rawan are sitting together. They’re laughing about something I can’t hear, sharing sugar sweets and drinking tea like they always do. The two cats loiter around them, probably hoping for scraps. Eventually the cats settle, the heart-shaped markings on their backs align, tails twisting together.

Come on, Saff, I whisper to myself. You can do this.

And that’s when I turn back to Elle.

I take a deep breath and, for the first time in our entire friendship, I speak my mind.

‘Things changed this year,’ I begin, pausing while I gather my thoughts. ‘I thought it was my fault at first, and that I was being a bad friend.

‘I thought I wasn’t growing up quick enough. I couldn’t understand why I didn’t care about boys. I thought it meant I was being selfish and jealous and silly . . . then I realized I’m not the problem,’ I say with certainty.

‘OK,’ Elle eventually says, stretching out her vowels. ‘I mean, I sort of get it.’

‘You do?’ I raise my eyebrows, not convinced.