When her mum remarried, she got to be a bridesmaid. She was only six and didn’t remember much – just how excited she was about getting a new dress and a new dad. They were like a proper family now, and theirs was such a close relationship. ‘Thick as thieves,’ that’s what her mum used to call them. Now he just got angry all the time and shouted.

‘Simon, for goodness’ sake!’

Her mum too. Maya wished she was still at Zac’s, where she’d been all afternoon bunking off sixth form. She wished she’d kept her mouth shut, like he told her to. ‘You don’t need to tell your parents; you’re practically an adult. It’s your life – you do what you want.’

But then Zac could always do what he wanted. He wasn’t seventeen and studying for his A-levels and still living at home. He was twenty-one and lived in a squat and whenever anyone asked him what he did for a job, he said he was an activist. She was glad she’d never told her parents about Zac. They’d freak.

‘Well, in that case I’m sure you’ll be happy to know our daughter has informed me she’s going to quit the sixth form to go and save the planet instead.’

Her mum looked upset. ‘Oh, Maya, it’s not long until your exams in the summer, don’t give up now.’

Maya hated disappointing her. It seemed to happen a lot these days.

‘But what’s the point of A-levels when the planet is being destroyed?’

‘Well, if we take that opinion, what’s the point of me being in the police? Should I quit doing my job too?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Well then, why is it different for you?’

‘Because . . .’ Maya felt a familiar rush of frustration. Why was it that whenever she tried to explain how she felt to her parents, it always got so muddled up inside? Like she couldn’t get the right words out. Yet with Zac, she never had to explain. He just understood. ‘It’s a waste of time. I’m not going to get the grades to go university anyway.’

‘That’s because you barely study for them,’ exploded her stepfather. ‘You’re always on that bloody phone instead!’

‘That’s not true,’ she yelled back. Maya was more like her stepfather than she would like to admit; they were both hot-headed and prone to outbursts. ‘And anyway, why is it never about what I want? Why’s it always about what you want?’

‘Because I’m your father.’

‘No you’re not. You’re not my real dad!’

It flew out like a slap across his face. Maya saw him blanch.

‘Well, I’m the only dad you’ve got here,’ he replied. ‘And you’re not leaving school. That’s final.’

‘We just want you to make the most of your opportunities in life – that’s all, sweetheart,’ her mum implored.

‘But it’s my life, not yours.’

There was a beat.

‘You’ll thank us in the end.’

Maya’s jaw set as she looked at her parents. So that was it. The argument was over and the decision had been made. She didn’t even get a say.