‘Very artistic,’ says Bridge as she appears beside me. ‘Okay, I’ve narrowed it down to two. You have to help me choose! They are both really easy to open.’ She holds up a square pencil case with a picture of a unicorn blowing a bubblegum bubble, and a long thin case that is covered in black stars.

‘The star one. You can’t fit a ruler in the other.’

‘See, without you I’d be lost!’ She stretches up to return the unicorn case and drops the star case in her basket.

‘I’m buying you one, too. A high-school present!’ She hands me another star pencil case and tells me to try the zip. She’s right. It runs perfectly.

‘Now … pens!’

I watch as my friend motors around the store, adding things to her basket. Part of me wants to join in the fun, but another part is too busy thinking about Mum coming home tonight. Usually after Bridge and I shop, I go home to Dad and he pretends to be interested in all the things I’ve bought. Tonight won’t be like that. Not if Mum’s there. My thoughts are stalled by Bridge bounding up to me. ‘How many pencils shall I get?’

‘Five.’

‘Cool. Good number. What about scissors?’

‘Don’t think we’ll need them at high school. Will we?’

She pulls a face. ‘No. Probably not.’

I take a look in Bridge’s basket and see piles of notebooks and paperclips and elastic bands. It’s like she’s planning on starting a business. My basket looks pretty empty in comparison.

As if reading my mind, she says, ‘Too much?’

‘Maybe a little.’

‘You can share. It’s fine.’

I nod, knowing better than to get between my friend and her stationery obsession. She spends all her pocket money on the stuff.

We almost make it to the front counter when Bridge sees the selection of folders.

‘We definitely need one of those!’

‘Definitely!’ Ellie pops up beside me and reaches for a pink-and-gold striped folder at exactly the same moment as Bridge. They touch the sides of it and then realise, look at each other, and laugh. But I notice that neither of them takes their hand away.

‘Do you want it?’ says Bridge.

‘Yeah. It matches my notebook,’ says Ellie.

‘Oh,’ says Bridge. ‘I like it, too.’

I look along the wall at all the different, geometric designs. There are so many stripes and squares and spots staring back and I wonder why my friends have to want the same one.

‘Can’t you both get it?’

Bridge turns and looks back at me, keeping her fingers on her side of the folder.

‘There’s only one.’

Ellie takes her hand away. ‘You can have it,’ she says to Bridge.

I already know what’s going to happen. I resist laughing as Bridge pulls her hand away, too.

‘No, it’s okay. You have it.’