The burning liquid gushes down her throat and bloats her stomach. I can see it blowing up in front of my eyes, like a little helium balloon. She’s not hungry now, either. She has no desire to do anything except lie here, me astride her, the cloudy sky above us. I glug, like a greedy baby with a bottle of formula.

‘Hey,’ she says, ‘slow down.’

I collapse onto the grass beside her and we both stare up at the sky.

‘Look at that cloud. It’s like a great big cock.’ Luce doesn’t see what I see. I bet all she sees are grey billowy things. The whole sky is different shades of grey. ‘Hey, lezzer, I know you want to. Why not?’ And I do what she dreams of me doing: I grab her tight, push my mouth onto hers. She tries to stop me, to stop herself, to be my protector, yet here she is, no better than any of the others. I can hear her thoughts clearer than I hear my own.

She pushes me off her eventually. ‘What if a nun sees us?’

I laugh. ‘They’re at it every night of the week anyway.’

We lie on our backs on the damp yellowing grass.

‘Back to school in five days,’ she says.

‘I’m not going back.’

‘Don’t be such an eejit, of course you are. What else would you do?’

‘I have to get a job.’

‘Who’s going to give you a job? You’re only fifteen.’

‘Would you stay in that house?’

‘You don’t have to. Come home with me.’

‘Your mother can’t stand me.’

‘Not all mothers are psycho like yours.’

I turn my back on her.

‘Oh, shit, I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean that.’

That’s for me to say, not you, Luce. It’s getting cold. She takes off her hoodie and lays it over me. I roll onto my back, staring up at the almost-night sky, snuggled deep under her fleece. My eyes close. I know she’s watching the rise and fall of my chest; I know she wants to lay her head there. She doesn’t move. I allow myself to go under, my guardian angel watching over me, but then I feel a shadow crossing my body and I raise my spikes. The machine is going to flatten me, but still I don my armour. It’s futile, gonna happen anyway. I can smell her boozy breath. I push her off me. No. No. No. No. No.

‘Sammy, it’s ok,’ a voice whispers. I open my eyes and flow back down inside my body. The sky above is navy-black now and pricked with tiny stars. I’m on the grass, with my friend beside me, and although we are far from that house, the reverberations are still inside me: maximum exposure. I look down at my long, stick-like legs and red, scuffed knees.