After way too long, Natalia speaks. ‘So, do you want me to do the photo shoot with you, or not? I don’t do nudes though.’

‘Well that’s a relief.’

She snorts in a humourless way. ‘Okay, so when do you want to do it?’

My brain spins, trying to figure out how soon I can be ready, or even if I want to be ready. I’m still not a hundred per cent sure this isn’t an elaborate plan to make fun of me.

‘How about the first week of holidays?’

That will give me time to plan the lighting and find a location and see what equipment I can borrow from school, and then time to edit the photo and paint on it and anything else I decide to do afterwards. If I’m lucky.

‘Nup, can’t do. We’re at the beach house that week. What about the second week?’

It seems as if everyone at Balmoral is going somewhere for the September holidays. The end of the holidays will be way too late.

‘That doesn’t give me enough time to finish it. How about the first weekend after we go on break? Sunday?’

‘You mean next Sunday?’

She’s right. How did the term get away from me so badly? ‘There’s a lot to organise…’

‘God, Cardell, settle down. You’re a massive geek, I’m sure you can pull this off.’

It’s difficult to know what to say to such a double-edged insult-compliment.

‘I don’t know. I’ve still got two exams left this week to study for. Let’s forget about it.’

‘Please.’ She sounds desperate, although I can’t imagine why. I’m the one that’s going to have a half-arsed Art project, and probably not be able to finish my homework for any other subjects as well.

Natalia sounds calmer though when she speaks again. ‘Don’t overthink it. I’m free on Sunday arvo, so pick a place, get some props or whatever and we’ll do it. I’ll sort out what I’m wearing and what I’ll look like. No stress.’

I’m quiet for a good few seconds. ‘Okay?’ I say, eventually.

‘You can do it,’ she says. ‘At least you’re doing something.’ And then she hangs up.

DAY 35

I wait until the next morning to call Dad.

‘Chloe, everything okay?’ is how he answers my call. He’s out of breath; he always seems to be out of breath when he answers his phone.

‘Yeah, nothing’s wrong. Just called to chat.’

This is not the truth. I’ve been sitting in my room for the last hour, looking at all the tests and due dates scribbled in my school diary.

‘Oh, good, good.’