‘I’d be the kick-ass leader, who uses her bionic wheelchair-strengthened arms to slap baddies down.’

‘Who would I be?’

‘The one who stays back at the base hacking into the CIA and stuff. Give it here,’ says Annie, taking the control off me. ‘I’ve got one you’ll like.’ She plunges the room into blackness then stars start circling the ceiling. The balls glow white like little moons. ‘What music do you want? Heavenly Realms or Ocean Waves?’

‘Heavenly Realms, of course.’

Ambient music fills the room and I lie back and stare at the stars. My whole body relaxes. This is so much better than hockey. Suddenly, I realise that the boldness that made me want me want to write my address in Ed’s planner hasn’t gone away. I turn to Annie. ‘Something funny happened in science today.’

‘Go on,’ she says, and another ball bounces off my head.

‘I don’t really know how it happened, but Ed King is coming round to my place tomorrow.’

Annie sits up and balls spill on to the floor. ‘Oh my God. That’s a bit datey, Meg!’

‘I knew you’d say that, but we’re going to do our science homework.’

She laughs. ‘You keep telling yourself that.’

‘What? It’s true!’ Now it’s my turn to throw a ball at her.

‘You live in a flat, right? No lift?’

‘No, just three flights of wee-smelling stairs … that Ed King is going to be walking up.’ I’m actually blushing at the thought. I can’t help thinking about that huge four-wheel drive that’s always picking him up.

‘Shame. I almost want to be there, but three flights of stairs is a lot of effort. What’re you going to wear?’

‘Annie, it’s not a date!’ Then, after a moment, I say, ‘I’m going to wear my NASA T-shirt.’

Annie sinks down and her smile is half-hidden by the balls. ‘Did you know that there’s a word for people like Ed? Sapiosexual. It’s when someone’s attracted to intelligence.’

‘We’re working on our presentations for the NASA competition. There’s nothing sexual about it.’

Suddenly the room is flooded in pink light and petals float around on the wall. ‘If you say so,’ she says, ‘but there’s a test you can do. When he’s round at yours, look deeply into his eyes and say something clever like, “The square root of one thousand is twenty five.” If his pupils dilate, then he’s definitely a sapiosexual.’ She grins. ‘Do it for me!’

‘I would, but the square root of one thousand is actually closer to thirty-one point six.’

‘Perfect. Say exactly that!’

Then I throw a handful of balls at her and she calls me a sapiosexual and throws a load back at me and soon we’re having a sensory ball fight.

FORTY-ONE

‘Elsa, they’re not for you.’ I lift the bowl of crisps out of her reach and put them on the table. Ed’s due any minute now and I’ve spent all morning sorting out the flat. When Elsa woke up this morning at the crack of dawn, I suddenly saw the flat through Ed’s eyes and realised that to him it might look a bit, well, freaky.