She wanted to get into McGowan, a selective state school with a good netball team and specialist STEM program. We did practice exams together, then sat in the same massive room at the Showgrounds, along with hundreds of other hopeful teenagers vying for spots at independent schools around the state. But when the results came in, it was me that got the offers: a full scholarship to Balmoral, or a half-scholarship to Sheltower Girls Grammar.

I jam the rest of the scroll into my mouth and crumple the paper bag. Natalia and her gang are hanging out the front of the juice bar, right next to the bus stop. They must have been on the tram before mine. Apparently there’s a secret shortcut through the grounds that gets you to the tram stop early, but no one’s ever shown me. The boys they’re with, some spoilt guys from Norton Grammar, are making a big show of flexing their muscles and pushing each other around, even while they’re sucking on hot-pink takeaway cups.

Sarah has taken off her blazer and rolled her winter skirt up so it barely covers her butt. She’s sitting on one boy’s lap, but the rest of the girls are more interested in their phones than the Grammar boys.

Natalia stands apart from the rest, eyes on her phone, with Ally looking over her shoulder. They don’t care that they’re blocking the footpath, forcing shoppers to flow around them.

I pretend to read my Biology textbook while I eavesdrop.

‘I can’t believe she’d go out in those pants,’ Ally says. ‘Again. I’ve got chills.’

The two girls watch the screen quietly, and at one point Ally squeals.

When whatever they’re watching finishes, Natalia looks up and catches my eye. I can tell that she’s pissed off with Ally by the way she’s angled away from her. Her eyes are hollow.

‘What are you looking at?’ Natalia calls out, but I know it’s just a reflex. There’s no fire in her words. She seems blank, empty as a lost sock, especially compared to how she was last week. She was so jumped up in self-defence class that she was lucky she didn’t take Petra’s eye out.

Behind her I can see the Grammar boys checking her out, and I don’t blame them. Perfect tanned skin, skinny legs and boobs the exact right size, those supermodel eyes, blue-green, set far apart and a bit alien.

I hold her gaze and shrug. I can read your mind, a bit, I think. Something’s wrong with you. I can tell you’re wearing a mask.

Natalia eyeballs me for a few more seconds before turning back to her friends.