I see three missed calls from Bridge and realise I was supposed to be at netball training. Ellie was coming round and we were going to run down together. At least that was their plan. I start to text an excuse and then stop, turn off my phone, and bury it in my bag just as Matt comes back with takeaway hot chocolates and a box of hot chips.

‘Hungry?’

I nod. ‘Starving!’

‘Yeah, me too. I always get hungry after …’ He sits down beside me and I try to settle.

‘How often do you do this?’

He smothers a chip with sauce before answering. ‘Not that often.’

‘Did your parents really send you away because of rooftopping?’

He looks across at me and I see a sauce smudge near his mouth. I point it out and he licks his lips until it’s gone.

‘Nah,’ he says finally. ‘I got expelled. They were worried. Maggie said I should come and stay with her for a bit.’

‘Expelled? What for?’

He turns away from me and sips his hot chocolate.

‘Graffitiing.’

‘Oh,’ I say.

‘More than once.’

‘Why?’

He smiles and I wonder why. ‘You ask so many questions, Clem.’

‘Sorry.’

‘No, it’s good. People don’t usually ask questions. They just make decisions about you without knowing why. You’re like Maggie. She asks questions, too. I didn’t appreciate it at first, but I do now.’

‘Yep,’ I say, thinking about all the things I told her last year after the fire. Things I hadn’t told anyone else.

‘Mum and Dad had a baby last year. She’s been sick, so they’re always at the hospital,’ he says quietly.

He doesn’t need to explain anything else. I get it. How he feels pushed out and why he does stupid things to get attention. I’m a runner, but I understand that everyone has their own way of dealing with things.

‘You going to graffiti the new school?’

He laughs. ‘Nah. Sort of done with all that.’

‘Except rooftopping?’

He shrugs. ‘Maybe I’m done with that as well.’

There’s a chip left in the box, one perfect fat chip. We both reach for it at the same time, but then top when we realise the other wants it. It reminds me of watching Ellie and Bridge grab that folder. I’m not as polite as them, though. I dive in, snatching the chip before Matt, and I shove it in my mouth as fast as I can.

Matt pretends to be shocked.

‘Sorry!’

‘No you aren’t. You’re just saying that to make yourself feel better.’

‘True.’

‘I’ll remember that. Next time we’re sharing food, I won’t be so polite,’ he says, picking up all the rubbish and standing up to take it to the bin.