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it?”
    Make-up was collected and stuffed back into a bag. Then came the sounds of their heels clicking towards the door.
    â€œWell, you know Seth’s party…?”
    The door opened and shut and Jassmine’s voice faded out until Bree couldn’t hear anything else. She was annoyed. She’d been literally on the edge of her (loo) seat, wanting to find out who it was.
    That’s when she realized.
    Jassmine Dallington was interesting.
    Bree was interested in Jassmine Dallington’s life.
    Did she need to be more like her ? The thought was repulsive. Disgusting. Jassmine was nothing but perfumed vacant air and yet people cared about her. And her horrible friends. They wanted to know what was going on in their lives. What their thoughts were. What they’d done that weekend.
    Nobody wanted to know anything about Bree.
    She looked down and noticed she’d been scratching last night’s scabs. A small droplet of blood dribbled down her leg. She ripped off some loo paper and dabbed it away.
    She had a lot to think about.

chapter five
    â€œMore wine, please.”
    Bree held out her plastic beaker and Holdo poured in some red.
    â€œMore.”
    Holdo raised an eyebrow and tipped in another dash until the wine was dangerously close to the rim. “You’re going to be troublesome after that.”
    â€œShh. I’ve had a bad day.”
    It was later that evening. Friday night. And Bree and Holdo were doing what they did every Friday night: staying in and watching intelligent films – preferably with subtitles – to make them feel even more self-important.
    â€œWhy do you only ever have red wine?” Bree asked, taking a generous sip from her beaker. The bottle probably cost at least fifty quid but she never noticed the difference. As long as it had alcohol in it, she didn’t mind. Especially after today.
    â€œWhy? What else do you want?”
    She shrugged. “I dunno. Some vodka?”
    Holdo looked disgusted. “Eww. What next? You’ll be telling me soon you want to ‘strawpeedo’ some ‘Bacardi Breezers’ and follow that with a ‘Jägerbomb’.”
    â€œIt’s what everyone else our age drinks.”
    Holdo opened his mouth into a perfect “O”, like he was waiting for someone to pop a grape in there.
    â€œThis is an Eastern France burgundy made from grapes grown on a small tributary of the Rhone River.” His voice trailed off.
    Bree had somehow hurt his feelings and now she felt a little bad. “It’s really nice. Thank you.”
    Both embarrassed, they returned their attention to Donnie Darko – one of Holdo’s absolute favourites. It was his lifelong dream to lose his virginity while Joy Division played in the background, just like Jake Gyllenhaal does in the film.
    Screw that. It was Holdo’s dream just to lose his virginity. Period.
    Bree snuggled further under Holdo’s blanket and took another deep sip of wine. She couldn’t concentrate on the film. Mr Fellows’s words echoed in her head and she thought once more of the rejection letter spiked on her bedroom wall.
    She sighed.
    â€œYou alright? We can watch something else.” The wine had stained a crimson ring around Holdo’s mouth where his lips were chapped. She didn’t have the heart to tell him.
    â€œI’m fine. Just distracted, ’tis all.”
    â€œYou still thinking about the rejection letter?”
    Her head was beginning to feel heavy. A giant grey bunny rabbit was bashing its way through a mirror on the television. She didn’t reply.
    Holdo, sensing her restlessness, muted the film.
    â€œHave you thought about blogging?” he asked, turning his body towards her on the sofa. “That’s one way of getting published.”
    Bree pulled a face. “Blogging?” She said the word like it was poisoned.
    â€œIt’s cool to blog now, Bree. Bloggers are taking over the