‘No! It was liberating!’ Corinne laughed. Her whole face lit up when she laughed. ‘To not have to choose – to not have to worry what people would think.’

Beth thought of Sasha and Nicole and some of the other girls at school. The way they scrutinized what everyone wore, allocating points based on your appearance. That stupid Outfit Of The Day group they’d started on WhatsApp and now everyone in the class was on it. Everyone except for Beth.

‘Hey, we should play that game!’ Corinne announced, suddenly seizing on the idea. ‘Why not? Every day, while I am here, I shall choose your outfit and you can choose mine!’

‘I don’t know,’ Beth said, uncertain.

But Corinne was already flicking hangers across the rail, scanning the clothes in the wardrobe before seizing on a bib-shirt Abi had bought for Beth last Christmas, hard fold-marks from the packaging still visible through the cotton.

‘Here. Put this on,’ Corinne instructed, waiting with the hanger dangling from a crooked index finger.

Beth felt seized with indecision. She baulked at the idea of shedding her clothes under Corinne’s watchful eye. But it had been so long since Beth had brought a friend up here to her room – over a year. Whenever her parents asked if she wanted to bring Lisa back to the house for pizza or a movie, she made excuses. But now, under Corinne’s steady gaze, she felt the hard carapace of her defences begin to melt.

Head down, she took off her T-shirt, clutching it in a ball against her chest while Corinne took the shirt from the hanger and placed it over Beth’s head. She pushed her arms into the sleeves and reached to loosen her hair from beneath the collar, and as she did, she felt a hand go to her neck, the lightning touch of a finger trailing over her skin. She jumped aside as if she’d been burned.

‘What?’ Corinne asked.

Beth stood there with her hand clamped hard across the back of her neck. ‘Don’t touch that.’

‘What is it?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Let me see it.’

Corinne was coming towards her now and Beth backed away.

‘Please don’t.’

Corinne moved quickly, one hand reaching for Beth’s arm and pulling her around, the other hand plucking at the neck of Beth’s shirt.

‘Hey!’ Beth shouted, alarmed by the sudden move and taken aback by the girl’s strength, the shock of this physical contact. Corinne’s grip was strong, and Beth felt herself pinned against the desk, unable to shake free.

‘It’s just a scar,’ Corinne announced, sounding disappointed. She released her grip and Beth turned around quickly to face her, heart beating fast, sweat on her back. She felt the French girl’s proximity; the curl of her smile seemed teasing.