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strong and she pulls me up easily.
    But I can’t put any weight on my left foot.

    I have to sit straight back down.
    â€˜Where does it hurt?’ says Roseanne.
    â€˜My ankle. I think it’s broken.’
    â€˜Take your boot off and let’s have a look,’ she says.
    I undo my boot-laces and slip my sock off.
    â€˜Yeah, it’s pretty swollen,’ she says. ‘But it’s not broken. You’re going to need a bandage, though. I’ve got one in my pack.’
    Roseanne climbs back up the bank, grabs her first-aid kit and is back in a flash.
    She puts a cream-coloured bandage on the top of my foot and wraps it around twice. Then she winds it around my ankle and back under and over my foot again, in a figure-eight motion.
    â€˜Where did you learn to do that?’ I ask.
    â€˜I’m doing my queen scout training,’ she informs me matter-of-factly.
    â€˜I didn’t know that,’ I say.
    â€˜You didn’t ask.’
    At last the others catch up.
    â€˜What’s going on?’ asks Derek, craning his neck to see what we’re doing. ‘You two playing footsies?’
    â€˜He’s hurt his ankle,’ says Roseanne. ‘Pretty bad too.’

    â€˜Can he walk?’ asks Derek.
    â€˜Not properly,’ she says. ‘But he can lean on me. He won’t be able to carry his pack, though. We’ll have to unpack it and share the load around.’
    Lean on her? Is she crazy? I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
    â€˜It’s okay,’ I say. ‘I’ll be right.’
    But Roseanne’s not listening.
    She’s lugged my pack up to the trail and is distributing its contents amongst the other walkers.
    â€˜Hey,’ she says. ‘What are you carrying these for?’
    She’s holding up three rocks, each the size of a small coconut.
    I don’t believe it.

    I can’t believe it.
    I won’t believe it.
    Could Danny be that stupid?
    This calls for some quick thinking. I don’t want to end up looking like an idiot in front of the whole group.

    â€˜I can explain,’ I say, trying to act like it’s the most normal thing in the world to carry rocks in your pack. ‘See, I’m a rock collector and . . .’
    But Roseanne is shaking her head.
    â€˜Why put the rocks in your pack?’ she says. ‘Why not carry them in your head with the rest of the collection?’
    Everybody starts laughing. Everybody, that is, except me. And Danny. This is all his fault. I should never have trusted him.
    If only he had never had the stupid idea of putting rocks in her pack in the first place!
    After Roseanne finishes distributing the contents of my pack, she slides back down the bank.
    â€˜Put your arm around my neck,’ she says. ‘I’ll help you up.’
    My arm? Her neck? She’s got to be kidding.
    â€˜No, it’s okay thanks,’ I say. ‘I think I can walk now.’
    â€˜Suit yourself,’ she says.
    I grab a small tree and start to pull myself up the bank. But the pain in my ankle is too much. I miss my footing and fall backwards.

    Roseanne lifts me up, places my arm over her shoulder and helps me up the bank.
    She might be a pain in the bum, but I’ve got to hand it to her: she knows how to handle an emergency.
    Danny is standing at the side of the trail, looking sheepish.
    â€˜Maggot-brained moron!’ I hiss at him.
    He just shrugs. He knows it’s the truth.

    As I limp alongside Roseanne, we talk. She tells me that this is the sixth school she’s been to.
    â€˜You got kicked out of five schools?’ I ask.
    â€˜I wasn’t kicked out,’ she says. ‘We keep moving. Dad’s a structural engineer. He has to keep moving to where the work is. We never stay in the one spot for more than a year or two.’

    â€˜Isn’t that hard?’ I ask.
    â€˜A bit,’ she says. ‘It’s kind of lonely.’ After a long