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centre of the highest hill in town, Snowdon Street. I would have to gently ease the handbrake and rev the car just enough to get it to move up the steepest part of the incline and park at the top of the hill. I was packing death. I was not at all certain I should ease the hand brake. It freaked me out purely sitting in a car that was parked diagonally. Terry went through the instructions three times.
    â€˜And off we go.’ He sounded overly confident.
    Foot on clutch. Hand brake down. That’s as far as I got before I sent us whizzing backwards down Mount Everest, into oncoming traffic.
    â€˜ Brake Daisy, brake, ‘ Terry screamed wildly, hands flailing around his fat little head.
    I heard him, but it didn’t register. My foot remained locked on the clutch and my hands wouldn’t move off the steering wheel for anything. I didn’t check my mirrors to make sure we weren’t careering into any houses, or worse, letterboxes.
    Just before we reached the bottom, Terry sighed and hit his set of brakes. I peered around me sheepishly, wanting to shrink into the seat. He had stopped us metres before hitting four lanes of peak hour traffic.
    â€˜Out, Daisy.’
    I peeled myself out of the seat and bolted to the passenger side of the car.

y 8 am pink paper covered the school grounds beyond the front gate. Then the busses arrived. Everywhere students satisfied their curiosity by streaming into the piles of pink paper and picking up fliers to read. Their ecstasy rivalled reactions to wedding invitations as the girls in particular squealed with delight, planning straight away their outfits, hair, make up and what person they hoped might also be at the party.
    An ‘end of week one’ open house party was a tradition for students at St Dominic’s College. It was usually at a senior’s house chosen according to whose parents would be away that weekend, or on the unlikely occasion, had given permission. I picked up a flier and grinned. It was at Rach’s house. How did she wing that?
    â€˜So what do you think, Dais?’ Rach was suddenly in my face bouncing up and down.
    â€˜Stoked. Where will the folks be?’ I grabbed her shoulders to stop her jumping.
    She grabbed my wrists instead. ‘Visiting Mum’s sister in Perth. Do you like the invites? I made them myself.’
    â€˜Yeah. I was beginning to think this party was never going to happen. Talk about last minute.’ I shook my wrists free and started walking to the lockers.
    There was a small note wedged between the vents at the front of mine when I arrived. It was from Roman.
    Feels like we haven’t talked properly for a while. Coffee this arvo?
    It would be good to chat again. There’s only one problem. It meant I couldn’t walk home with Nate and learn more about him. I was desperate to continue our conversation from yesterday morning. It also meant I couldn’t invite him to the party in time for the weekend. I cursed myself for throwing out his number in my typical fit of rage and thought of ways to get around this.
    If I postponed, Roman might start asking questions; he was a smart boy and he probably suspected Nate’s interest in me. On the other hand, he might be gambling with the fact that Nate can’t come to the party unless I specifically invite him face to face. He didn’t know whether I had his number or not.
    Not wanting to think that Roman would put in that much effort to sabotage my friendship with Nate, I put the note in my pocket to mull over for the day.
    Before lunchtime I had my outfit and hair planned like the rest of the female population at school. I couldn’t wait to help Rach set up her house. It was hard to predict how many students would show, as it was open house. I was pretty sure it was going to be the party of the year regardless.
    As we walked into maths, Skye brushed past Rach and whispered, ‘Hope you don’t mind if we invite a few extra