‘I know, but . . .’ I pause as Chris Price reaches out and moves a chess piece. The others start talking like they’re discussing if he made the right move. Then one of the Year Eleven boys says something and they all laugh.

‘They don’t look like swots,’ I say. ‘They just look like you and me, except they’ve got more brains.’

‘Exactly,’ says Jake, trying to guide me away. ‘What would you talk to them about? Who’s got the best calculator, or who got the highest mark in science? Come on, let’s go.’

I look back through the window. All the players have gone quiet and are staring intently at the board like they’re watching an ant crawl across it. Rebecca glances up. I don’t know if she’s seen me or not because she just looks for a while, like she’s thinking, then turns back to the board. I could never sit still and be quiet like that. Maybe Jake is right. I wouldn’t have anything in common with them. Sometimes I think Rebecca only hangs out with me because we were friends when we were younger, before she got super brainy. I take my hand slowly off the door.

‘Phew,’ says Jake. ‘You had me worried.’

‘I know,’ I say, trying to shake the fog out of my head. ‘They’re all dweebs! I don’t know what I was thinking.’

‘You were thinking it was a good idea.’

‘No, Granddad. I wasn’t.’

Jake gives me a strange look.

‘What?’ I say. ‘I’m not going in there.’

‘No,’ says Jake. ‘It’s what you just did. You were talking to your granddad.’

‘Did I? Was I?’

‘Yeah. It’s like he’s getting inside your head, brainwashing you. Maybe he’s a spy. My dad always says he’s a bit strange.’

‘My granddad’s not strange,’ I snap. ‘And he’s not a spy. What does your dad know? He’s never even spoken to him.’

‘Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you.’ Jake puts his arm around my shoulder. ‘He’s not strange. Not really . . . Now let’s get some dinner and then we’ll go and shoot some hoops.’

‘Hoops? What is hoops?’

Granddad, I say in my head. You’re going to have to stop this.

Me, the Knight and the Wardrobe

‘So, tell me what you’ve been doing at school today?’ Granddad shouts in from the kitchen.

‘Umm . . . Not much, Granddad,’ I yell back. ‘Just the usual things.’

‘But what about your marks?’

‘Granddad.’ I look up from my books. ‘Why do you keep asking about my marks? We don’t have a test every day.’

‘I know, but I like to see if you are improving.’

‘To be honest, Granddad,’ I sigh, ‘you know you said that chess might help my schoolwork?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I wasn’t going to tell you, but I think the chess is making my work worse.’