I open the front door and see my best friend grinning at me. She plucks out her earbuds and moves in for a crazy bear hug.

‘Well?’ she says.

‘Oh, um, was it Taylor Swift?’

‘No!’ She jumps back, pretending to be shocked. ‘You should know! You’re named after him.’

I think fast. ‘Tap it again,’ I say. She bangs out the rhythm on my front door and hums along.

This time I grin. ‘Ramones. “Pet Sematary”.’ My dad was totally obsessed with the Ramones when I was born and, because he thought I was going to be a boy, my parents named me Clem after the drummer, Clem Burke, even though he only played a couple of gigs with them. I love my name, but I’m more than a bit over having to explain where it comes from and that it’s not short for Clementine.

‘You ready?’

‘I was going to do something about my hair,’ I say, patting the wildness.

She takes off her red floppy hat decorated with a plastic flower badge and plants it on my head.

‘Sorted,’ she says.

Bridge doesn’t stress the little stuff, not like I do. She smiles and I see the faintest colour of pink on her lips.

‘Are you wearing lipstick?’

She rubs a finger along her bottom lip. ‘No. Coloured lip gloss. Do you want some?’

She starts riffling around in her bag to find it.

‘No, thanks,’ I say.

She pulls it out victoriously, anyway, and holds it up. It’s a lolly-pink tube and reminds me of playing dress-ups when we were younger.

‘Nat gave it to me for Christmas.’

‘Really?’

‘I know, right? But she’s been really great over the holidays. She’s giving me all her old clothes. And she said she’d make sure I found the right class at school and didn’t get lost. Mum says she’s growing up.’

I wasn’t so sure, but I suppose Bridge would know her sister better than anyone. Nat is one of Bridge’s three older sisters. Even though she’s only two years older than us, for the past couple of years she’s acted like we’re just annoying little kids. The idea of Nat and Bridge hanging out seems wrong, even if they are related. As I watch Bridge wipe some gloss across her lips, rub them together and pout at me, something fluttery starts in my chest and spreads through my body.

‘Why do you want to wear lip gloss?’ It comes out harsher than I intended.

She shrugs and then grins at me like I’m crazy. ‘It just tastes good. Here … try!’

I shake my head, trying to control the flutter. But Bridge sticks it up under my nose so I have to smell it.

‘See? It’s like a lolly!’