‘FreshTrim101, my friend from school: Karim. I told you about him a couple of times, remember? He moved to Straybridge over the summer because his parents are working on the SMARTtown project. He didn’t know anyone when he started at Latham High.’

‘I vaguely recall you mentioned a new … acquaintance.’

Talking like he’s got something painful stuck up his butt. He gets like this every time I try to introduce him to Karim.

‘You’ll really like him, Chets – he’s a good guy. He’s funny.’

‘I’m sure he’s hilarious,’ Chets says. ‘But I think it sends the wrong message to have him in our party, just in case the others do show up. We don’t want them to think they’ve been replaced.’

‘No, we don’t,’ I say. ‘But having a new friend doesn’t mean anyone’s been replaced. It’s just a new friend.’

‘Hey!’ Chets says. ‘I’ve just thought of another thing you’re the best at. You always win at wing 8 roulette, because you’re the only person I know who can handle the extra hot without crying.’

‘Well yeah, that does make me a bit of a legend,’ I say, knowing there’s no point in pushing any harder. I don’t want to lose Chets on top of all of the others. ‘Duos again?’

‘For sure, StarshottA51. Let’s go.’

As we haul out, ready to parachute into another game, a tap on my shoulder makes me jump out of my skin.

‘Jeez, Mum!’

‘I was calling you for ages. I wish you wouldn’t have that on so loud – you’re probably damaging your ears.’ She ignores my eye roll. ‘After this game, I want you to come and decorate the Christmas tree with me. It’s been sad and bare for far too long.’

‘Who is sad and bare?’ Chets says into my ear.

‘The Christmas tree,’ I say. ‘Because apparently trees have feelings, too.’

‘Hi Chets!’ Mum shouts into my ear, and waves for some unknown reason.

‘He can’t see you, Mum,’ I say.

‘Hi, Mrs Sparshott,’ Chets shouts back.

‘Should I just give Mum the headset so you two 9 can chat?’ I say, and then, ‘Joking, Mum!’ when she reaches out to take it. ‘I’ll come down in ten, OK?’

‘If you don’t, I’ll come up again.’ Mum laughs and finally leaves my room.

‘Why haven’t you decorated your tree?’ Chets says.

‘It was delivered a week ago and Mum felt too unwell to do it,’ I say. ‘But apparently now she’s feeling better enough to hang some baubles, and ruin my life by trying to chat to my mates.’ I am a bit embarrassed, but it’s so good to have her joking around that I’m actually quite looking forward to doing the tree with her.

‘Right. Ready to drop in three, two, one…’