The room is darker than normal. Usually Maggie has the curtains open because she likes natural light, but the darkness makes her flat feel cooler. Matt moves past me like a cat and plonks down right in front of the fish tank. Now I’m inside, I’m not sure what to do. Do I join him on the couch?

‘I’ve never lived in a house without a telly,’ he says, staring past me at the tank.

I realise I’m in the way so I shuffle across, deciding to sit but leaving heaps of space between us. ‘Yeah, it’s pretty cool …’

‘It’s okay. Probably gets a bit boring. She doesn’t even have wi-fi,’ he says, turning to look at me.

I gaze at the tank and feel like I have to defend Maggie and the fish. ‘It doesn’t get boring.’

‘Whatever. I like YouTube better.’

‘It’s actually amazing sitting here, just watching them. You start to see all their little worlds,’ I say.

I chance a quick look down the couch to see him staring at the fish. Those fish have had that hypnotising affect on me, too.

‘Yeah, I guess that is cool,’ he says, surprising me.

And just at that second, like the fish are backing up my argument, one of my favourites, the bottom-feeding catfish, starts to chase one of the darting silvery tetras. The tetra can outswim the catfish, but the catfish moves stealthily like a submarine, and I’m not confident that the tetra will escape the chase alive. Matt makes a sound that could possibly be considered a laugh.

‘Right on cue. Impressive! Have you been training them?’

‘No, but I used to think Maggie did,’ I say. ‘They’re always so animated for her, like they’re performing.’

Matt scrunches up his legs and leans back into the couch, looking at me again. He brushes his hair off his face and I try not to look away. I’m not used to being this close to a boy.

‘So how long are you staying?’ I ask.

He shrugs. Maybe it’s something he doesn’t want to get into. I get that. But then he says, ‘For a while. Until things change. Or until Maggie gets sick of me.’

I want to ask, What things? Instead, I say, ‘She won’t. She’s not like that.’

‘So high school this year …’ he says.

‘Don’t remind me.’

‘It’ll be okay.’

‘Better than being home?’ I say without thinking.

‘Why? What’s going on?’

I want to talk about it, but there’s something about Matt that makes me stop. But then I think about how he just tried to answer my question, so it’s only fair I find some words. ‘Dad just kicked me out of my room.’

‘Harsh,’ he says.

‘Yeah. It is.’ I sit back against the couch, trying to find a place that’s comfortable.