I realise Adut doesn’t know much about what has been going on. When I told her about my art project I made it sound like an intellectual thing, I didn’t mention what had been happening at school. She has no idea about church services or grief counselling or anything.

‘Are you interested in the show? It’s nothing intimidating. I’m part of a collective and we put them on every few months.’

‘I don’t think my work is good enough.’ I may as well say it right out. ‘Won’t it look too basic compared to everyone else?’

‘Listen we had a meeting last night and we got talking. We’re always thinking about how to improve representation in our shows, you know, identify who doesn’t get traditional space and then give them a platform. And we realised that we’ve never included a teenage artist, which is kind of…we should have our eye on that, right?’

‘I don’t know…Is there time for me to make something new?’

I’m not sure I want to show my photo of Natalia anymore, even in its new incarnation. Everything has been so bleak lately, and now it seems too dark and lonely. I’m glad I finished it, transformed it, but it’s time to move on.

‘For sure. I’ll email you the timelines. And it doesn’t have to be photography. We’re open to anything you want to do. How do you feel about that?’

‘Nervous,’ I admit.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll help you. We can discuss what you might want to put in. Your work will show where you are right now. Where you are is where you are, and it has every right to be seen. Don’t you think?’

‘You’re messing with my head a little, to be honest,’ I say and Adut laughs loudly and genuinely.

The sky is purple-dark, scattered with the kind of stars that give you hope. We’re halfway through spring and surely it should be warmer than this. Katie, Liana and I lie on Liana’s trampoline and look up at the universe. There are so many people in Liana’s house that this is the only place we can get any privacy.

I tell them about Adut’s invitation and how I’m not sure I should have said yes. I still have a bundle of schoolwork, I still have to see out term four.

‘Whenever you talk about your art these days, babe, your face scrunches up,’ Katie demonstrates, in case I don’t get what she means, ‘like, stress face. It never used to be like that.’

‘Remember when I started my YouTube channel and all of a sudden I hated doing my hair and makeup?’ Liana sticks her legs in the air and flexes her feet. ‘Two videos a week? Too much pressure, man.’