‘Just a sausage roll?’

Rob nods and Luke watches. He’s tried to comb his blond wisp up, like Rob’s. He’s dolloped a load of gel on the top of his head and stuck up a few tufts.

‘No chips?’

‘No chips.’

The dinner lady holds up her trowel of grease. ‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure.’ He flashes her his smile, cheeks dimpling. Then he moves towards the till.

The dinner lady waves her trowel at Luke. ‘What about you, love?’

‘Just a sausage roll. No chips.’

I take my plate of pizza and chips and follow them to the corner table. I ease into the seat next to Luke, so I can look at Rob opposite. They both have an apple and a carton of blackcurrant juice lined up by their plates.

‘Mind if I sit here?’ I say.

Luke looks at Rob and Rob says, ‘I don’t mind.’

Rob takes a bite of his sausage roll. A flake of pastry sticks to his bottom lip. He wipes it off with his sleeve and sucks his carton of blackcurrant. His Adam’s apple bobs. Next to me, Luke drinks noisily from his carton of juice.

‘God, you’re a slurper.’

Luke’s cheeks go pink. Rob fixes me with his green eyes and continues to suck up his juice.

I push my plate over to Rob. ‘Chip?’

‘No, thanks.’ His lips are stained black on the inside.

I bite at my pizza. A string of greasy cheese lands on my chin. I stick out my tongue to lick it off.

When I’m done, I hold out a fat, shiny chip. The end bends towards Rob’s nose. ‘You should have one. In return for the pen.’

‘Rob doesn’t eat chips.’

I swivel in my seat to face Luke. Rob’s eyes are still on me. ‘Do you want it, then?’

Luke shakes his head.

‘Sure?’ I dangle the chip by his mouth.

‘He doesn’t want it, Joanna,’ says Rob. ‘Thanks anyway.’

I tip my chair onto its back legs and throw my head back. My hair trails down so it almost touches the floor. I look at the cracked ceiling tiles. ‘I’ve never heard of boys on diets,’ I say in a loud voice.

I think of Shane and me, eating cake. The way the icing sugar nearly chokes me if I breathe in too hard. The vanilla softness of the buttercream in our mouths.

I let my chair fall back to the floor and sit upright with a jolt. My hair swings around my shoulders.

Rob picks up his juice carton and sucks it dry, cheeks hollowing with the effort. Then he smiles at me. It’s a big, glamorous smile. ‘See you,’ he says.

They leave together, taking their identical empty trays with them.

Mum puts her hand on my shoulder as we’re watching TV. ‘Simon’s got something to ask you.’