As they chat about Dad’s high-school experiences, I can’t focus on anything. I look out the window and then back at the dashboard of the car. I’m trying to imagine what today will be like but it’s just a jumble of worries. My phone beeps and I see Bridge has sent me a message: We r near bike racks. X

We. I see the word and realise she’s with someone. And the only people she knows are her siblings, who would not be waiting with her today, and Ellie. Of course it’s Ellie. The fact that they’re both already there and we’re stuck behind a long line of cars turning right makes me even more fidgety. And the fact they’re hanging out together without me makes me bark, ‘How much longer do you think, Dad?’

‘Not long.’ He sounds so calm. He always sounds so calm. Why didn’t I inherit that quality instead of Mum’s anxiousness? I just hope her anxiousness and her freckles are the only things I inherited, because lately I’ve been concerned that maybe I inherited her black moods, too.

I check my phone and see the time. It’s only 8.18am and classes don’t start until 8.40am, so we aren’t late. Not yet, anyway.

‘Maggie said to give you this,’ says Matt, passing over something small and warm wrapped in baking paper. I take it from him and feel the slightly spongy package.

‘It’s chocolate cake. She made it this morning. She must have gotten up at 5am to bake,’ he says, sounding surprised.

‘She does that.’

‘Why?’

I turn around in the passenger seat so I can see if he’s asking me honestly, or if he’s trying to make fun of her.

‘She likes it,’ I say. ‘It relaxes her when she has trouble sleeping.’

‘That’s pretty cool,’ he says, nodding at me. ‘Beats gaming.’

I turn back to face the front as Dad drives up the last street near high school and pulls over.

‘This close enough?’ says Dad.

I shrug. Actually, I don’t care at all if people see my dad dropping me off.

‘Have a good day, kiddo.’ He reaches over to give me a hug. This morning he smells like earth again. Maybe now that Mum’s safely home he’s decided to stop scrubbing work from his skin so he can just be. I inhale as deeply as I can and hug him back.

‘If you need a lift home, text me,’ he says. ‘Nice to meet you, Matt.’

‘Thanks for the lift,’ says Matt, getting out of the car and shutting the door just a bit harder than necessary.