‘I never see you anymore.’ Katie and I pass a can of beer back and forth between us. It’s quite the juggle with the smokes and the can.

I flip my hood up, stamp my feet. ‘You wouldn’t believe the homework they give us. I can barely keep up.’

‘I got homework too, you know. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna do it though.’

I give Katie a quick one-armed hug. She’s a bag of bones wrapped in an oversized cardigan.

In theory I should be able to go to Balmoral and still see my Morrison friends on the weekends, but in practice it hasn’t worked out that way, I’m not sure why. I haven’t hung out with the whole group since Easter. It’s not really homework getting in the way, that much I know.

On the other side of the fire, Katie’s boyfriend Tim threads marshmallows onto sticks. Brandon’s mum is framed perfectly in the kitchen window, dish brush in hand. Brandon pokes the fire with a broken cricket bat and looks confused about the lack of heat, even though we always have the same problem at the start of every spring.

It’s a scene frozen in time from last year, the actors transported and arranged in almost identical positions. Nothing has changed with my friends, but maybe something has changed with me.

I’ve been trying all night, but nothing can hide the fact that I’m bored, and cold.

Brandon shoots me a slow, snaky look over his half-gallon man-cauldron. I think it’s meant to be seductive, but I can’t be sure. I turn to Katie.

‘Things still good with Tim?’

‘Yeah, guess so.’ Katie stubs out her cigarette on the sole of her boots, flicks it into the non-fire. ‘It’s been eighteen months, so we’re an old married couple, don’t you know.’

She’s joking, of course, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the way it ends up, and for some reason that scares me, even though I like Tim.

Compared to Liana or me, Katie doesn’t really want much—she doesn’t want to travel, doesn’t want to study after school. She likes to keep things simple. She’s been made a supervisor at her cinema job, and they’ve promised to make her a manager as soon as she turns eighteen, so she’ll be able to make real money and buy the car she’s been saving for.

‘You look happy,’ I say, and she does. Old Katie used to be much pricklier than this.

‘I see Brandon hasn’t forgotten you.’ Katie gives me a pointed look.

I’m saved by hot breath in my ear; Liana collars me from behind and smooshes her cheek against mine.

‘Who can blame him, she’s such a babe.’

I slap at her head blindly and she wriggles away, not wanting her look to get ruined. Liana’s face is perfect as usual, her tan skin glowing, brows immaculate, eyeliner swooping in thick wings, highlighter making her cheekbones zing.