‘No. I did.’ Her cheeks are bright red now. ‘It’s not a real kiss. It’s just transferring air from my lungs into your lungs using my . . .’ She hesitates. ‘Well, using my mouth.’

This new detail is overwhelming. ‘I can’t stand this.’

‘Sorry, I wouldn’t have done it if there’d been any other—’

‘Go home, Kerry.’

‘Joel, I’ve only just got here. Dad’s not picking me up till seven.’

‘Then walk. You need the exercise; you’re too chubby.’ She’s not chubby, she’s just right. But I want to hurt her, like she hurt me telling me about me wetting myself like some wino on the Level. ‘At least you can leave. I fucking can’t.’

‘If you’re embarrassed, don’t be,’ Kerry says flatly. ‘Everyone knows you were out cold. No one thinks you’d ever kiss a girl like me if you had the choice—’

‘Just go.’

Something slaps onto the bed: a sports magazine. She always brings me a present. ‘I was wrong about you being the same, Joel. You might have ignored me before but you were never deliberately mean.’

I close my eyes. She zips up her coat and her steps fade away.

‘She’s gone now,’ Vaclav says. When I open my eyes, he’s by the bed shaking his head, his massive eyebrows meeting in the middle as he frowns. ‘You want to say sorry the next time you see her; you’re going to need all the friends you can get.’

Vaclav is an idiot. I’ve never had a problem making friends. If anything, I’ve got too many.

The moods, the tiredness, the pain – the difference – it’s got to get better, if I try hard enough. The real me will be back before you can say Joel Greenaway is the Dolphins’ greatest hope.

The day after I move wards, Coach Coley and Murray, the Under 23s’ team captain, show up at my bedside carrying what looks like Tesco’s entire fruit aisle.

‘All right, Banana Man? Brought you some supplies.’

I got my nickname because I’m the only football trainee to take nutrition seriously, eating fruit instead of chocolate, drinking OJ instead of beer. Now I wonder: why did I bother?

In my tartan granddad pyjamas, I feel like a sick person and I can tell from the pity in Murray’s eyes that I look like one too.

Screw him. I’m the better player and rumours say he’s going to be dropped this season anyway.

‘We lost the match without you, sunshine,’ Coley says. He’s the one I have to impress. His own career ended after an injury, and I’ve always felt sorry for him – it’s my worst nightmare. ‘Taylor got stretchered off after a nasty tackle.’