‘Sorry, I totally forgot. I was playing chess.’

‘Again?!’

‘I know.’

I draw the x and y axes again.

Jake knocks his knee against mine.

‘Felix,’ Jake says urgently. ‘I said, you’re playing all the time.’

I ignore him and look at my exercise book; it tells me to plot point (3,6) on the graph. I move my pencil along the x axis to three, then up the y axis to six, and put a dot.

‘Felix,’ says Jake. ‘Are you actually doing work?’

‘Yes,’ I say, picking up my ruler.

‘But why?’

I shrug.

Jake gives me a you’re weird look, then leans over and says, ‘Felix, you’re not going all swotty, are you? You wrote a short story in English and didn’t mess about in PSHE.’

I ignore him and keep plotting the points. Jake’s right, I do seem to have started working – not lots, but Mum said I seem to be concentrating more. I don’t know how she knows, because I’ve been at Granddad’s all the time. But I am working better, because yesterday in science I put my hand up and answered a question about why magnesium burns so brightly.

Jake kicks me under the table.

‘Felix!’

‘What?’

‘I said, if it’s still raining after school, do you want to come over to mine and play Call of Duty?’

‘You know I can’t. I’ve—’

‘Felix!’

‘Sir?’ I look up and see Mr Andrews staring right at me.

‘I said, less talking and get on with your work.’

‘But I am, sir,’ I reply.

‘Well, it doesn’t sound like it. Now get on.’

I look back at my page.

Jake nudges me. ‘But I am, sir,’ he says in a girlie voice that sounds nothing like me.

I seem to be getting into trouble even when I’m trying to work.

I plot another three points and all the time Jake is jabbering, then I sense a shadow standing over me.

‘So,’ says Mr Andrew, ‘given that all the noise is coming from this table, I’m assuming one of you has the answer. So . . . Felix, question three – tell me the shape you have after plotting the coordinates.’

I look down at my paper and see a hexagon, but I don’t trust myself that it’s right. If I was sitting next to Rebecca I could check my work with hers, but the only other page I can see is Jake’s and all he’s done is draw Terence from Angry Birds.

‘Well, Felix?’ says Mr Andrews.

‘Uh . . . I don’t think it’s right, but I got a hexagon, sir.’

Jake sniggers.

‘Yes,’ says Mr Andrews, looking as surprised as I am. As surprised as the class, who always expect me to get the questions wrong.

‘What?’ whispers Jake. ‘You never get anything right in maths!’

‘I know.’ I smile. I really don’t, but it feels good that I have for once.