‘Very fancy,’ Nan had said after a while.

‘I picked them out myself,’ said Mrs Mandrake, looking satisfied as I unwrapped a flexible blue ruler and a tube of glue.

‘Thank you,’ I’d said, and her eyes twinkled, but she’d not stay for tea, thank you – there were other errands to be done.

Now, I race up the steps to reception and dart past Mrs Edge. And then people turn as the door clatters shut behind me, and my footsteps slow. I don’t know quite what to do, without Zara or Yanny by my side. It’s fine, I tell myself. I can’t be with them all the time. But I’ve noticed that some of the other kids sometimes stare at me a bit, and they’re doing it right now.

Zara says it’s normal for a new kid, and she’s glad I’ve taken over the role. But it makes my skin itch, so I’ve taken to staring back at them when they do it.

Then.

I smile.

A really slow, impish sort of smile.

And that normally makes them stop staring, even if it’s just to turn to the next person and start whispering. I wonder what they see. I wonder if it’ll always be that way. Would people have stared the same if I’d started in year seven, instead of partway through year eight at the grand old age of twelve? If I’d gone to school at four, like everybody else? Sometimes, I wish Nan’s glamour upon me would slip, just a little, so that I could see the sprite in me – but right now, I’m glad of it.

I head for the form room, hoping Zara won’t be long. I should have waited for her – I understand better now why she waits out the front in the mornings. I finger the new pencil case, wondering if she’s waiting for me somewhere, and then she bursts in, late and flushed.

‘OK?’ I ask as she slides into the chair next to mine, Yanny following after her.

‘Yep.’

‘She hates being late,’ Yanny says, shaking his head in mock disapproval. ‘And it wasn’t my fault this time . . .’

‘Mum’s started night shifts, so I had to get the bus, and I miscalculated,’ she says. ‘That’s all. It won’t happen again.’

‘How was the bus?’ I ask.

‘Smelly,’ she says. ‘And it seemed to go so slowly. Anyway, I made it. How was your weekend?’

‘Good.’ I think back to my studies with Peg, and Mrs Mandrake’s visit, and the rain. ‘Wet.’

‘You went shopping!’ she says, noticing my new things. ‘Mum and I went back to the city to see some friends, and Dad took me bowling –’ she rolls her eyes – ‘which we were both rubbish at because we’d never done it before. Then we went for pizza, which was pretty good. Anyway, we only got back last night . . . What about you, Yanny?’

‘Fine,’ he says, offering nothing further.

Zara tuts and starts investigating the contents of my pencil case, and I look up to see one of the girls staring. I stare back with a nice smile.