‘What if I let you know by Sunday evening?’

‘Of course,’ Mango said, smiling. ‘And don’t feel I’m forcing you. I’d much rather you said no than agreed to do something you’re not comfortable with.’

31 D IN MATH

Harry’s day went from bad to worse as he got collared by his homeroom teacher, Mrs Scott, on the way out of school. It was a repeat lecture about outside interests and making best use of the many opportunities Queensbridge gives to pupils, but Harry struggled to keep a straight face because his pal Anita stood behind Mrs Scott, flicking her tongue and making obscene gestures.

By the time Harry walked out, everyone else had had a five-minute start and he knew he’d be at the back of the line to get out of the student lot.

‘Want to study for the math quiz at my place?’ Anita asked, walking a couple of paces behind.

‘I’ve got a million things to do,’ Harry said grumpily.

‘You got a D last Friday,’ Anita said.

‘Don’t remind me,’ Harry groaned, which made Anita spread her arms and break into song.

‘D, dee, dee. Dee, D, D, dee, D, dee.’

‘You’re not funny.’

‘I’m hilarious,’ Anita contradicted. ‘How’s your Mad Bomber doing? Have you stuffed your hoo-hoo-dilly in her cha-cha yet?’

Harry stopped walking and spoke sharply. ‘Look … we’re cool, Anita. But sometimes you’re too much … I’ve had a crap day and I need peace.’

‘Sorry,’ Anita said, staring at the gravel, hurting. ‘But math is a core subject. They’ll boot you out of Queensbridge if you keep getting Ds.’

‘Is that a bad thing?’ Harry asked.

Anita gave a wonky smile and backed away. ‘We’ll talk when you’re in a better mood, Haribo.’

Harry grunted and gave Anita a wry thumbs-up. By the time he got in his Mini, traffic stretched from the street in front of Queensbridge Academy, down a curving lane and back to the edge of the parking lot. It would take at least ten minutes for the traffic in front to clear and the most annoying part was a second, completely empty exit lane that was for staff only.

‘Autodrive, destination home,’ Harry told the car.

The map on the centre console showed the route. Harry pressed the handover button on the steering wheel, and the car rolled itself a couple of feet before slowing to let Anita shoot past in her Mazda convertible.

‘Call Ellie Gold,’ Harry said.

The phone rang on a speaker in the centre console. Ellie’s voice came through as the Mini joined the line of traffic.

‘Wassup, champ?’ Ellie asked.

‘The universe sucks,’ Harry said, half smiling. ‘Is your boy Christian OK now?’

‘He’s fine, but Woody stuck a Lego brick in his ear. So that was another five-hundred-dollar trip to the emergency room.’