I made a show of glancing at the watch on my wrist and raised an eyebrow at her. In all my life I had never felt so ridiculously daring. It was easy to soar under the radar, indifferent to anyone else’s thoughts or opinions, but I wanted Connie to like me. “I mean—if you’ve got the time, I can tell you all about it now.”

She pretended to contemplate it, tapping her chin. “Perhaps at some point in the future you can tell me all the fascinating facts you know,” she answered with a thoughtful smile. After a moment she peered at me again, almost analytically. “You know, Ryan—for a massive nerd with a horrible sense of fashion you’re actually not half bad.”

I snorted. “Is that an insult or a compliment?”

“You’ve managed to hold a conversation this long, which is impressive. Most girls at this school can barely manage to string together a sentence of more than five words.”

“Well…I mean, I’m a bit awkward.” To accentuate my point I waved my hands around nonsensically.

“Yeah, no shit. But you’re also kind of funny and like I said already you’re pretty enough. Granted, you need a haircut badly and I’m not sure even God himself could save those eyebrows, but…with a bit of work…we could actually hang out.” She nodded carefully, her eyes still boring into me. I had to fight back the urge not to squirm under the heat of her gaze. “Yeah. I think you could hang out with us. I could use someone with your…”

“Charm? Charisma?”

“I’m not quite sure what it is,” she admitted, “But you know, with some makeup, of course, and probably a new wardrobe if the jacket you wear to school is anything to go by…There’s a lot of potential here.”

I clicked my tongue. “Am I a potential friend or a dress-up doll?”

“Your cheek would be the first thing to go.”

I found myself fighting back a smirk. “And what makes you think I even want to be your friend in the first place? What if I want to say no?”

“Didn’t we just agree that you’re one of the smartest people in our year? Don’t make me take that back. I’ll be throwing a party to celebrate the end of the exams next weekend and if you’re not still completely braindead by then, you should have the common sense to show up.”

I was never one for making friends but it was a lot easier to do so than the books I read made it out to be. Niamh and Lauren, the only girls in the school I considered to be my consistent friends just sort of picked me up along the way without a friendship actually being declared. I entered class that afternoon ready to close my eyes and doze off to the soothing sounds of Robert Smith and left a potential friend of the most popular girl in the school. I wondered how many people would have thrown their own best friends to the gutter for a shot at a personal invitation to Connie O’Reilly’s party—to have Connie O’Reilly spontaneously show up at their house to hang out even after acting like a complete flop at said party, when I really ought to have been written off—to find themselves, over the span of a few short months, elevating to the esteemed position of Connie O’Reilly’s Best Friend.