Something’s going on at school today. Wherever I go, I can sense whispers, hear a low hum of words that I can’t quite make out. But I know they’re about me. And I know they’re not good. Girls chatter away until they notice I’m standing close to them, and then, spontaneously, the conversation seems to dry up. Others will stare at me as I walk by, then turn away and giggle with their friends. I am not imagining this or being paranoid; it’s really happening. At first I wonder if it’s about the kiss Xavier gave me outside school; but it can’t be because that was last week’s news, last week’s gossip, and nobody’s mentioned it for days. And, anyway, it was just a bit of fun, which nobody (except Rosie and Manon, of course) took seriously. This is something else, something bigger, something nastier. I have no idea what it could be. It’s making me feel vulnerable, exposed, the way you do when you dream that you’re naked in public. Every time people stare, I find myself looking down my own body to see if I’ve forgotten to put on my underwear, or have my skirt tucked into my knickers, or if I’m wearing odd socks.
