‘Then let’s go.’ Mr Keytes slides the door back. Rich gets in first and sits at the front. I get in line behind Tom, Chris and Leah, who smiles at me as we move forward. I force a smile back to be friendly, but from my reflection in the wing mirror I can see I look as nervous as I feel. If it wasn’t for Rebecca, today would be like going on school camp without any friends. She texted me last night to ask what the Bobby Fischer film was called, but I know it was really an excuse for her to check I would turn up today. It’s like she knows I’ve lost confidence, like I feel as if I don’t belong here – on this bus, in this uniform.

Rebecca nudges me.

‘Go on, Felix,’ she says.

Part of me wants to stay at school, but the other part of me makes me step forward onto the bus.

‘Felix! Felix!’ I stop and turn around. Jake’s running towards me, waving his arms in the air.

‘Jake!’ I shout. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Yes.’ Rich pokes his head out of the door. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I’m . . . I’m . . .’ Jake tries to catch his breath while looking at me like he wants me to think of an answer. ‘I’m . . . I’m Felix’s coach!’ Jake blurts. ‘Yes, I’m Felix’s coach. He said I could come.’

‘What?’ Rich looks at me.

Jake opens his eyes wider, like, Back me up, Felix. But I’m so happy to see him that I can’t stop myself laughing.

‘Yeah, he’s my coach,’ I say, smiling. I can’t believe what Jake is saying, but I’m just glad he’s here.

‘Your coach?’ Rich turns to me.

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay, so what does he do?’ says Rich.

‘Umm . . .’

‘I carry his water.’ Jake holds up his bottle of water. ‘And I check that he doesn’t get injured.’

‘I don’t think so,’ says Rich. ‘This is chess, not football, and besides, your name isn’t on the list.’

Jake grabs Rich’s pen. ‘There,’ he says as he scrawls on the paper, ‘it is now.’

‘Everything all right?’ Mr Keytes shouts from the driver’s seat.

‘Yes, except he’s here,’ Rich snarls at Jake.

‘Hi, sir!’ Jake beams. ‘Thought you’d like some support!’

‘Well, it’s appreciated, Jake, but did you get permission from your parents?’

‘Course,’ says Jake. ‘My mum wrote you a note.’

I try hard to stop myself laughing as Jake holds up a piece of paper.

‘Just get on, Jake,’ says Mr Keytes, waving the note away. ‘We’ve got a long journey ahead.’

‘Great.’ Jake heads to the back of the minibus. He isn’t a real coach, but it is great to have someone in my corner.

I walk between the seats. Jake taps the one beside him. I glance at Rebecca.