‘Don’t worry about her, she’s fine. She’s got to get used to the idea that it’s not all about her this weekend.’

Chloe wanted to defend Zadie, to tell Rav that Zadie wasn’t selfish and that her problem wasn’t sharing the limelight. But everyone else was telling stories, laughing, interrupting each other, and somehow that seemed more tempting than trying to convince Rav that Zadie was really a good person.

The warm water of the hot tub seemed to unfurl knots in Chloe’s back. She’d been nervous about getting in. Earlier, when someone called up the stairs to tell Chloe that it was hot-tub time, she had thought about pretending to be asleep, or busy, so she wouldn’t have to join in. But that would be ridiculous. Like Rav had said, this was Max’s birthday. He’d planned this, he’d laid it all on for them. It was their job to have fun – to join in. So she had dutifully put on her bikini, a plain black one she’d bought from New Look in anticipation of today. When she had looked at herself in the mirror she wished that she had thought to put on fake tan – though it might have washed off in the hot tub and that probably would have been worse than being pale. She’d attacked her bikini line the night before, cutting herself twice with a cheap yellow razor panic-purchased from the Boots in town. Not that anyone was going to really be looking. She took a deep breath. It would be fine. She stepped gingerly into the water and noticed that both Max’s and Rav’s eyes were on her. That didn’t mean anything, she told herself. It was just that she was standing up, that was all. They weren’t looking at her – not really.

‘Where’s everyone else?’ asked Wilbur, one of Max’s schoolfriends. ‘They’re missing out.’

‘Zadie said she’d be down in a bit,’ said Max, lying back. ‘Not sure about the others, but I’m finding it hard to worry about anything right now.’