My phone rings. It’s Mireille. ‘Hi,’ I say.

‘Just checking where we’re meeting. McDonald’s, right?’

‘Yeah. The one by the leisure centre. Not the other one.’

‘I know it,’ she says. ‘That’s where I first met you. And Chloe.’

I remember. ‘Hey, yeah! You were with that friend of yours from the Castle…’

‘Fenella.’

‘We thought you looked about our age, and we didn’t recognize you, so we guessed you must go to the boarding school…’

‘And you introduced yourselves, and then invited us to your sweet sixteenth.’

‘Fenella got herself hooked up, right?’

‘She certainly did.’

‘And so did you. With Cy. Six o’clock, OK?’

‘Sure. See you soon.’

She rings off, and I grin. I am so glad I persuaded her and Cy to come on this double date. She’s hardly ever let out of school, and when she is she just spends her time round at Cy’s place, getting stressed because Cy’s grandad won’t give them any peace. They’ve been an item almost as long as me and Grant, but I don’t think they’ve actually had sex yet. She needs to get out more.

I decide to wear purple tonight, as a change from my usual black. The top is elegant, with three-quarter length sleeves and tiny beads sewn into the cuffs and neckline. The skirt is pleated and modest. Grant will have an opportunity to see more of me later, and he might get jealous if he sees other guys looking at me. I hunt out a pair of knee-highs and, first outing ever, the amazing purple leather ankle boots I bought during the holidays. I leave my hair down.

Grant arrives. He carries my bag. Since he still hasn’t got a car, and the leisure centre is on the far side of town, we go on the bus. It sucks. We have to pay full fare, since we’re not kids any more. But, of course, we can’t officially buy alcohol later because we’re not adults yet…

Cy lives like ten minutes walk from Mireille’s school, and then it’s another ten minutes to the venue. They’ll probably be there before us.

As soon as we arrive I notice Mireille has gone for the retro look. She is wearing a ra-ra skirt. A pink ra-ra skirt! Where on earth did she find that—a charity shop?

I have to admit, it looks good on her. If she were at an American high school she could totally be a cheerleader. Cy seems to approve. I suspect he is thinking about the easy access opportunities. Perhaps Mireille is, too. Instead of her usual pigtails, Mireille is wearing her hair in one long plait, down the left side of her face. Cy is absent-mindedly twirling it round his fingers. Mireille’s pink hoodie hides what she is wearing underneath, but I guess it’s just a T-shirt. Her school makes the sixth-form wear a uniform so she tries to avoid anything formal when she goes out.

‘Hey you guys!’ Mireille spots us first. I rush over and give her a hug. Grant slaps Cy on the back. Those two have been friends since, like, Year 7, and they don’t have any secrets from each other.

Which probably means they talk about us, behind our backs.

I put that thought out of my head, and slip onto the bench next to Mireille. This is our gossip time. The guys will get our order.

‘So,’ I ask her, ‘how’s school?’