‘Haven’t you heard? We’re teenagers. Apparently we’re supposed to be impulsive one hundred per cent of the time.’

We smile at each other and it’s this completely calm moment. My smile wavers when I realise this might be the first time I’ve felt genuinely happy since Yin was taken.

I’m a monster.

There were so many times today when I was going to tell Chloe about my history with Yin, how close we used to be. And I knew if I did Chloe wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, she would take it in, like she does with everything, like a sponge that soaks up everything you’ve spilled. But I still didn’t say anything.

‘Chloe,’ I whisper, leaning forwards, shaking off the guilts. ‘There’s this old lady right behind you, and she’s been listening to every word we’ve said.’

Her mouth makes a perfect shocked circle, and she’s trying to see over her shoulder, and then Jeremy knocks really loudly on the window with his car keys and scares the living daylights out of both of us.

When I get home I go straight to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of juice. I finish it and pour another. I have a very specific orange juice thirst that will never be quenched.

I think of all the boys and the couple of girls that I’ve had not-sex with and it calms me to run through the list, picturing faces and names and parties and places. I don’t think about cold concrete against my skin and uncontrollable shivers.

I start looking in the cupboards for a packet of those fun-size chocolate bars that Mum hides for when she’s menopausal, and my plan is to eat them one after the other in the bath while the world goes away, at least for a little while.

‘Keep it down,’ a voice says. ‘Your dad’s upstairs with one of his migraines.’

Mum is on the couch, in the dark, doing nothing that I can see, which is something that she’s been doing more and more of lately. I kick off my heavy boots and sit with her. I offer her the bag of chocolate bars. She takes one but doesn’t open it.

Last time Dad had migraines he had to take three weeks off work. When he’s not all the way on, he’s usually all the way off.

‘Did you have fun with your friend?’

‘She’s not my friend.’

I feel terrible a split-second after saying that out loud. Embarrassing crying aside, I had more fun with Chloe today than I have had with anyone for a while.

‘Well, did you have fun with your not-friend?’