‘It’s cancelled,’ I say. ‘On account of Kellen’s injuries.’

‘He seems fine to me …’ Chase says.

I look across the room and see Kellen and Rhys already playing the happy couple. I can hear Rhys telling a highly exaggerated story about how he ‘saved’ him. Kellen isn’t even bothering to correct him. What an absolute fucking joke.

‘You know Tiffany’s already made a call to her dad?’ Bec says. ‘They’re running a story painting Rhys as the Hawthorn Hero. They’re saying he saved Kellen’s life …’

‘Rhys did fuck all,’ I snap. ‘But let them say whatever the hell they want. I’m so far past caring.’

‘But it’s a lie,’ Chase protests. ‘Whatever happened to the integrity of journalism?’

‘The integrity of journalism?’ I squint at him. ‘I think that ship has sailed, Chase. Just look at what they wrote about you! Where was the integrity of journalism then?’

‘Exactly why you should set the story straight!’ he says. ‘Though I still don’t understand how you realized something was wrong. You ran out of the room screaming his name like you already knew he was in trouble.’

‘I just sensed something wasn’t right,’ I lie. ‘Call it a gut feeling.’

‘A gut feeling?’ Bec says. ‘Are you telling us you’re psychic, Zach?’

‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’

‘Try us,’ Bec says. I look back and forth between them. My two best friends in the whole world. They didn’t believe me last time, but maybe I just didn’t explain it right. Maybe I can convince them. Maybe I should try a second time. Tom and Jerry logic, right?

‘Look over there,’ I say, nodding towards Owen. ‘Any moment now, Ethan is going to stand up and throw that ball at him.’

‘What?’ Chase says, looking at me puzzled.

‘Just watch,’ I say as it all plays out in real time.

‘Think fast!’

I feel bad for Owen, humiliated again. But I had to prove it somehow.

‘How did you know that was going to happen?’ Chase says, confusion painted across his face just as Owen’s lunch is sprayed across his shirt.

Bec looks equally puzzled. ‘Are you actually saying you’re psychic?’

‘Not exactly,’ I say. ‘But if I tell you, do you promise this time you’ll believe me?’

‘What do you mean this time?’

‘Come on,’ I say. ‘I’ll show you.’

We’re sitting outside on the grass, the yearbook open in front of us. Mr Harrington would lose his mind if he saw us, but Madzikanda was right – there really are so many clues in here when you know what you’re looking for. You have to read between the lines, but it’s undeniable that some of these kids must have gone through the same thing as me and Kellen. Despite whatever hardships they may have faced, they seemed to come out the other side better for it. They all seem grateful for what happened. Just like Madzikanda said.