Let’s not forget what she did to that girl Mandy for doing nothing more than smile at a boy El liked at the time. El spent the next few weeks slipping notes into everyone’s lockers saying awful things about Mandy, so that every time she showed her face in the corridors, people would laugh at her and point. In the canteen, she would slip her foot out as Mandy walked past, so that she fell or tripped and spilled her drink, or she would hide her underwear while she was in the shower after PE, then tease her and try to lift her skirt in class, knowing she had nothing on underneath. Eventually El got bored of toying with her, but the change in Mandy over those two weeks was obvious. She went from being bubbly and chatty to walking everywhere with her head down, her hair covering her face, and jumping any time anyone spoke to her.

And I admit, I was a part of it – me, Steph and Emily. It had started out as a laugh. We would help El come up with the nasty rumours to write on the notes. It was my bag that El hid her underwear in. I might have even pushed my bag out in front of her once and laughed as she tripped over it and dropped her tray.

But El has a way of pulling you in and making you complicit. And anyway, Mandy was nothing to me. Just a girl I had seen around.

But I actually like Tracey. I like her family and the things we talk about, the way I can relax around her. And I’ve only known her for one day.

I’m going to invite Tracey to the party. I’ll tell her to stay over that night too, so that she doesn’t have to worry about getting home. Because she has the kind of parents that would worry about parties at rich kids’ houses. And who knows? Maybe El will like her too and she can join our group.

El has a long list of boys she wants to invite, including Jason who she thinks I should get together with, but his nose is too big for his face, almost as big as the inflated opinion he has of himself. He’s all big talk about his skiing holidays and how much his new trainers cost. I couldn’t care less. I hate skiing. My parents go every year and, although I am fairly competent at it, I spend most of the holiday in ski school hanging out with the same kind of kids I hang out with at home, but with helmet hair for a week. I’d rather be at home with a good book.