There were a couple of people who both muttered that neither rugby nor dancing would be enough to make them happy. But then that made lots of other people smile, because they’d both complained about their rubbish existence, something we enjoy doing, and they’d done it at exactly the same time.

We started to scatter across the Jellyfish into the positions we’re normally in for rugby. Most of us hadn’t been assigned a team yet, so it was obvious that most people didn’t really care, but in the centre, by the Big House, James was talking loudly, and gesticulating, still trying to get people enthusiastic and organize them.

Kate did a little dance by herself, spinning around and leaping a few times. She was humming a tune I couldn’t quite hear, swaying her head to and fro in time to the music. ‘Hey Martha,’ she said, ‘do you think the Jellyfish can tell whether it’s rugby or dancing that we’re doing?’

‘Martha’s doing that not-talking thing she does sometimes,’ said Lana. ‘She probably won’t answer you.’ She got herself into position, as though she was now suddenly waiting to catch the ball, and not deliberately being mean.

‘Ooo, yeah,’ said Kate. ‘I suppose she has been quiet. Are you doing OK, Martha?’

‘I’m fine thanks, Kate. Don’t talk about me as though I’m not here, Lana,’ I said.

‘Well you need to join in, then, and actually behave like you’re here. Because sometimes you’re more like a walking tentacle,’ said Lana.

I thought that was unfair, but it’s hard to complain about something that doesn’t even make sense. I just screwed up my face in her direction, as though I was really confused about what she meant (which I was, to be honest). ‘What, are you calling me fast and sticky?’ I asked.

‘No. Silent and wet.’ She looked right at me as she said it, her eyes narrowed, then turned back to look at the ball again. I knew she wasn’t interested in the rugby.

I was honestly hurt, not because she was comparing me to a tentacle, which I know is ridiculous, but because she was deliberately trying to offend me. Does that make sense? Even though I knew she was just taking her rage out on me, which is something she does a lot, actually, it was still really hurtful that she did. And I know that makes me a bad person, because I find it funny when she takes her rage out on other people. But it’s rubbish when it’s me.

‘I just don’t want to say something when I don’t have anything important or useful to say,’ I said. I don’t know why I go quiet sometimes. It’s not on purpose. It’s more just that sometimes I don’t feel any need to talk.