Teenagers – more than I’ve ever seen together in one go – crowd tables and hang off chairs dotted round the room. Some eat from old takeaway tubs and some nibble at sandwiches in packets like Rowan’s. Some congregate in black; others wear oversized, brightly coloured jumpers.

All of them are talking. Laughing. Stealing chips from each other’s plates and sharing videos on their phones.

I head for a free table in the corner

where I can gather my thoughts.

I want to ask him more about what he used to do with Fran and Charlie. Why doesn’t he tell them anything any more, about what happened at the bell tower? About Jonah?

But, if we’re alone, he might start asking me questions, too.

‘Stop!’ I shout, blood humming in my ears. ‘Um – wait – I need you to go and sit with someone.’

I stop walking so fast a girl next to me

chokes on her milkshake.

‘Who?’ I whisper out of the side of my mouth.

Who who who?

I clutch my pillow and feel the edges of the pink star buried under it.

‘Cecelia,’ I say. ‘Cecelia Adebayo. She’s in – my year. The one below you, I suppose.’

I spin round on the spot.

‘Name doesn’t ring a bell.

What she look like?’

I search the crowd for her face as he turns.

‘Dark hair – box braids. She wears glitter nail varnish. She’s popular, so she’ll be in a crowd – maybe with the climbing club?’

‘Climbing club?

Don’t think we have one of those.

You sure she goes to this school?’

‘Yes, I –’

And then I see her. At the back, in the corner. And my insides soar, because it’s her – it’s her – but also it doesn’t look anything like her.

She’s sitting alone. Her head down but her eyes up, chewing a sandwich like she can’t eat it fast enough. And she’s not smiling or laughing or throwing chips at her many friends.

It’s like seeing a whole different person stuffed inside the skin of someone I know like I know myself.

‘There,’ I say. ‘In the corner, with the purple braids.’

I walk over.

‘You sure you know this girl?

I’m not just gonna sit down and look

weird, am I?’

‘No, you can’t tell her that I’m here. In fact, hide the camera. Cover me up.’

I sigh,

balancing my sandwich on my knee

as I zip my hoodie up over her.

‘You won’t be able to see now, though.’

I’m lost in grey. ‘I can still hear. Go! Sit next to her.’

I don’t know

W H Y

I’m doing this.

I pull up a chair

and purple braids eyes me like a

frightened hare.

‘Um – can I sit here?’