‘I have absolutely no opinion about it,’ I say with a shrug, ‘except that the hexagonal lace looks like the diagram of a molecule.’

She grins. ‘I love the stuff that comes out of your mouth, Megara. It’s priceless.’

I sit up tall. ‘Thank you,’ I say, then I take another bite out of my baguette.

‘I’m wearing this molecule dress to the dance,’ she says, then she gives me a nudge. ‘Got anyone to go with yet?’

‘Shut up, Bella,’ says Ed, his pen still scribbling across my notebook.

‘The thing is,’ I say, ‘I don’t like dances. I don’t like discos. I don’t even like dresses. I like stars and planets and sums. That’s why – with or without anyone – I’m definitely not going to the dance.’

She blinks at me. ‘Seriously? You don’t like dresses?’

I shake my head.

‘Huh,’ she says, then she pushes a packet of Quavers towards me. ‘Crisp?’

‘OK,’ I say, and because I want to do something to celebrate the amazing moment when I found the courage to show Bella Lofthouse just who I am, I don’t take one, I take two! Still holding my head high, I turn back to Ed, but he’s stopped working on the equation and is staring at the TV screen in the corner of the canteen. I follow his eyes and the triumph I’m feeling drains away from me.

A music video is playing, but Ed’s watching the live news feed that’s scrolling along the bottom of the screen: Breaking news: massive earthquake strikes Myanmar. Thousands feared dead. The words loop round and round, never ending.

‘What’s the matter with you two?’ says Bella.

‘Nothing,’ says Ed, and at the same time he wraps his fingers round mine. ‘It’s nothing.’ He squeezes my hand as icy fear fills my body from my scalp to my toes.

‘I’ve got to go,’ I manage to say, then I wriggle out from between them and walk towards the exit.

‘Meg, you forgot your baguette!’ Bella shouts after me, but I keep going, shoving through the double doors.

I’ve got to get out of here.

I find Annie in the sensory room, lounging on a beanbag and staring at blobs of light floating across the ceiling. She raises her head. ‘What are you doing here?’

I walk straight up to her. ‘I need you to write me another of your letters.’ I pull my pencil case out of my bag. ‘Make it about my teeth again, a follow-up appointment.’

She sits up and I thrust my planner and a pen at her.

‘What’s wrong?’ she says.

‘Nothing.’

She stares at me. ‘Obviously something’s wrong, Meg. I get that you’ve got all sorts of secrets and you’re not into sharing, but you look like you’re going to puke. Why don’t you just go and see the nurse? She’ll ring your mum and you’ll be able to go straight home.’

I feel my shoulders rising. Why can’t she just write me the note? I have to get round to Grandad’s and find out if he’s heard from Mum. I’ve already tried his phone but, of course, he’s not answering. ‘I can’t talk to the nurse …’ I pause and stare at the floor. ‘… Because if I do, I might …’ I press my fingers into my eyes.