‘Unlikely. But he’s probably more polite than me.’

She laughs again and stirs the pot. ‘Hope dinner tastes better.’

‘Me too.’

‘I’ll cut up some fruit if you’d like? Maybe some chickpeas on the side?’

It’s been a while since anyone has made me an afternoon snack. Dad’s never here when I get home and I’ve become pretty used to fending for myself.

‘Just fruit would be great.’

While I wait for her, I check out the blisters on my toes. Once they pop they’ll really hurt. My knee must have started to crust over, because I have to walk stiffly so that it doesn’t bend and crack and start bleeding again. I’ve had enough grazes from Little Athletics to know the healing process.

‘Big bandage you’ve got there,’ says Mum as she cuts up watermelon.

‘Yeah. I came off a skateboard and Bridge went a bit overboard with the dressing.’

‘Does it hurt?’

‘Only when I walk.’

Mum slides a plate of fruit in front of me. When I was little she used to arrange the pieces on the plate like a dinosaur. The grapes would be the head and the pineapple the spiky tail and she’d use currants for eyes. Today the fruit is fanned in slices.

She sits down at the table and it feels familiar, almost like we used to be. ‘So, how are you feeling about high school?’

‘I don’t know.’

She nods and I see her watching me, trying to figure something out.

‘Are you all organised?’

‘Yeah. I guess.’

‘Excited?’

I shrug and bite a grape in half.

‘It’ll be nice being at school again with Bridget,’ she says.

‘Yeah.’ I sound more dismissive than I intend and I see a look of concern cross Mum’s face, so I add, ‘But we’re in different home groups.’

Now it’s her turn to shrug as she pinches a grape from my plate. ‘That doesn’t matter.’

‘Yeah, it does. She’s with Ellie, too.’ I can hear my voice getting louder. I grab the bunch of grapes so she can’t take any more from the plate.

‘You’ll make new friends, Clem. And you can still see those girls whenever you like.’

‘But I’m on my own!’

‘That’s okay. It’s high school.’

I had been thinking that perhaps she might offer to talk to the school about the situation, but she’s blown it off like it doesn’t matter. She obviously has no idea how hard it is to start high school in a class on your own. I dump the grapes onto the plate and storm out to the kitchen.

‘Did I say something wrong?’