Ellie smiles back. ‘She’s good.’

‘Who’s good?’

I look up to see Bridge standing nearby, clutching a pile of folders and books. I can tell she’s trying to work out where to sit. Finally she plonks down beside me. I’m pleased she’s chosen to sit next to me instead of Ellie.

‘Talking about Tam,’ explains Ellie.

‘Thought you were talking about my debate this morning,’ laughs Bridge. ‘I was better than good!’

‘Yeah, you were. You nailed it!’

And just like that, Ellie and Bridge are rehashing some scene from their English class and talking about people I don’t even know.

‘Max hated it when you beat him,’ says Ellie.

‘Who’s Max?’ I ask.

‘Oh, just a boy,’ says Bridge offhandedly.

They keep talking over my head.

‘I’m trying to work out this question,’ says Bridge, opening her notebook.

‘Is it the prime factors one?’ Ellie asks.

‘Yeah. I’m really lost.’

Ellie leans across me to see the workbook. I recline back in my chair so they can confer about maths. Ellie tries to explain it to Bridge, but I can tell Bridge still doesn’t get it.

‘Clem, can you move for a sec so I can show Bridge what I mean?’

I swap chairs with Ellie and return to my music theory homework. The treble clefs and bass clefs keep swapping position in front of me. I’m supposed to draw a long line of them, but each one looks more like a squashed whale than a music symbol. I rub them out and the page creases under my pressure. I try to smooth it, but there’s a rip and the whole page tears across the middle.

‘Clem?’ Ellie says.

‘What?’

I realise they are both watching me.

‘I’m going to head,’ I say, stuffing my books back into my bag.

‘I thought we were going to the milk bar after this,’ says Ellie, sounding disappointed.

Shrugging, I close my bag. I need to get out of here before I start crying.

‘Clem, are you okay?’ Bridge sounds so worried, and my tears edge their way closer. I nod and then spin round, accidentally catching my chair with the strap of my bag and knocking it over.

Someone shushes me from further down in the library. I hurry towards the door, leaving the chair where it is.

There’s a toilet in the hallway and I make it into a cubicle before the tears start to fall. I yank off some toilet paper to dry my face. I start reading the graffiti on the back of the toilet wall. There are lots of angry comments about boys and love, but no advice about what to do if you feel like you’re in the way. My phone starts ringing from inside my bag but I ignore it. I know it’ll be Bridge and Ellie. I suddenly want to be free from them and from me.