The one dancing off the beat, alone, as alone as me, except that I don’t show it, is Aurélia Garcia. You know her already: the killjoy. The policeman’s daughter, oh dear, the music is too loud, oh dear, I’m calling my father, oh dear oh dear, the lambada my God my God, boys, no no no … She scratches her eyebrows, smiles stupidly and is probably dreaming of a prince charming who would see stars in the reflection of her braces … Good luck with that, old thing!

Aurelia is A.

There are other girls – Véro, Candy, Katia, Patricia, Tess, Steph – but I’ll skip over them and move on to the boys, at least the ones who make me want to write mean things. The others, Filip, Ludo, Magnus, Lars, Tino, Estefan, are just normal, which is to say that they’re handsome, they drink beer, they laugh at rude jokes and they eye up normal girls.

Which means they don’t see me.

Estefan, with his fair hair in a ponytail and his southern accent, dreams of being a foreign-aid doctor and working in Ethiopia; Magnus wants to shoot the fourth episode of Star Wars; Filip to take off from Cape Canaveral on board the Columbia; but even describing these hot guys is making me feel depressed, so let’s move on.

So, on the boys’ side there’s Cervone Spinello, who is negotiating with my brother, trying to persuade him to turn up the music even louder. ‘I promise you, Nico, it doesn’t matter, Papa won’t say anything.’ I’ve already told you a bit about him. The jerk is sure that he’s going to be manager of the campsite one day, so he’s already behaving like a little prince. The heir apparent, the king’s oldest son. Generally speaking, the heir apparent is usually incompetent and a pedantic fool. The two things go together when you have power. Cervone is like that. Will be like that.

Cervone is C.

I’ll finish with the cyclops. I call him that not because he roasts six at a time (hahaha) but because, however long you look at him, you will only ever see one of his eyes. So, Hermann the cyclops, always walking around in profile, and only ever looking in one direction. Towards Maria-Chjara.

If you see Maria-Chjara, you won’t have to look for too long before spotting Hermann’s profile turned in her direction. If Maria-Chjara were the sun, Hermann would only be tanned on one side. Even though Hermann is German, you have to admit that he can jabber away in French and English quite well. He must be a kolossal talent back home, the kind who’s programmed to swot away and get full marks at school for ten months of the year and then to be a total misfit during the two months of summer.

Hermann is H.

Did you get all that?