I know you miss me, Kandi. I miss you and think about you all the time. I’m making something really special for you. Annie’s promised that we can meet up soon so I can give it to you.

I love you to the moon and back.
Chay Chay xxxxxxx

I sign it big so she can’t miss that it’s from me. Annie has to see it first before I send it. Then she’ll tell Kandi’s dad that it’s on its way or he’ll send it back unopened. I’m glad that Annie is honest with me about these things, but sometimes I wish that I didn’t know. They sit inside my head for too long and prickle.

I tear out another blank page. Am I in the sorry zone? I think of Ms Nzegwu and her sad face. I didn’t mean to get her in trouble with Ms Shaw, though it wasn’t all my fault. Maybe I can apologise to Ms Nzegwu next. I try writing a few words. I say that I’m sorry that things went wrong. I was really interested in what she was saying and I wanted to have the debate. I say that I hope everything went OK later. I sign my name and put the letter aside.

And now it’s time for Charity. Sorry zone. Sorry zone. I want to get my brain into it, but it’s like trying to push an elephant into a mouse hole.

Dear Charity,

She’s not “dear”. I cross it out. Then I cross out “Charity”. I don’t want to say her name, not even with a pen. It’s all a splodgy mess now, so I have to tear out another sheet of paper.

I stare at it. Then I start.

I’m sorry you’re so ignorant. You don’t know nothing, but you always have to open your big mouth. I know you do it just to annoy me and it works! I should stay quiet and …

And that’s it. There’s no more I want to say. I cross out “and” and add a full stop – it’s a blotch not a dot. I write my name below. Big capital letters. I want to make sure that Charity knows it’s from me too.

Annie keeps a pack of envelopes in the drawers in the small room next to the kitchen. As I come downstairs, my heart almost stops. There’s a man in the hallway. He turns round to face me. It’s Annie’s son, Blake.

He frowns. “Shouldn’t you be at school?” Blake asks.

I carry on down the stairs. “Shouldn’t you be at uni?” I say.

“Tomorrow’s lecture is cancelled. I thought I’d make a long weekend of it – see my mum and stuff. What’s your excuse?”

I don’t say nothing.