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lesser A levels), had booked out the cricket pavilion and were planning on having a Halloween party. It sounded like a great idea.
    â€˜I hope Freddy will be there,’ said one of the girls, the only one with brown hair.
    â€˜Yeah, me too,’ I said. ‘He’s so handsome it’s obscene.’
    She looked at me in genuine disgust.
    I felt I needed to explain. ‘I’m only joking.’
    â€˜You can never tell with you. You’re weird.’
    â€˜No I’m not.’ The way she said it was so cold it hurt a little and I instantly lost all respect for her because doing that was easier than getting upset.
    â€˜Yes you are.’
    â€˜He’s not weird, he’s special,’ chirped Matthew.
    â€˜Thank you, Matthew.’ I considered storming off, gettingsome drama into the scene, but thought better of it because they wouldn’t get it. ‘Why call me weird?’ I said to the girl, by this time genuinely offended. I thought for a second that I was going to start crying.
    â€˜Why did you say you think Freddy’s handsome?’
    â€˜Charlotte,’ said Jenny in a high voice. ‘Leave Richie alone.’
    â€˜I was making a joke,’ I said.
    â€˜Oh yeah? What joke?’
    â€˜You know. Like I was gay.’
    â€˜And what’s wrong with being gay?’ She made one of those American faces.
    I sighed. ‘Nothing. It’s just – it’s funny.’
    â€˜I don’t think being gay’s funny.’
    I couldn’t believe this. ‘No, nor me.’
    â€˜You’re homophobic. That’s great, Matty, you’ve got a great best friend.’
    â€˜Yeah,’ I said quickly. ‘He has. Actually.’
    The other Californian Girls were loving the completely uncalled-for attack. I wasn’t really used to people having a go at me and I could feel myself blushing.
    â€˜I was being facetious. If you even know what that means.’
    You know what? There’s nothing worse than somebody who thinks they’re more intelligent than they are. I was getting angry, but not like I was when I was fourteen and went a bit nuts. Just normal angry. I paused, shaking a little bit. I hate the way I let people get to me.
    â€˜You know what?’ I said, pointing at her. ‘I wish you were gay. Then you could go fuck yourself.’ That was too good
not
to storm off. So I did.
    I was laughing my head off. Not out loud, of course; outside I was just smiling to myself. I hollered a right into an arcade and there, not forty feet away, and coming my way, was Craig Bartlett-Taylor. I instantly jumped into a shop so that he wouldn’t see me. I don’t know why I did that. Inreality I should have escaped, but the world is never like reality, is it? Bartlett-Taylor came straight into the shop, lolloping along like a fucking moron. I’m sorry I just said that but I’m still wound up by that Californian Girl, just thinking about her.
    â€˜Hey, Craig,’ I called from across the aisle. My arms were in the air.
    He was wearing an Iron Maiden T-shirt so the bandages on his arms were perfectly visible. ‘That’s a great look for your slash marks, you crazy bastard,’ I said loudly. I felt instantly sick. This wasn’t me. I was almost shaking because of the Californian Girl and I had just taken my anger out on Craig. I had been worried about him all weekend and thinking that I wanted to do something to help and then when I finally saw him I said something like that because I can’t control myself.
    A couple of people looked at me and I felt awful because I was being like a typical teenager. He sauntered over to me and stopped. His eyes looked all empty, like he was on drugs. He probably was; to, you know, curb his madness. He wasn’t laughing at my joke. I didn’t realize that a suicidal mood is not tinged with irony. There is no room for jokes with something like that.
    â€˜Jesus, Craig,