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leave, and it’s half past four already!’
    There was this big lump blocking my mind — pride, I guess. With a huge effort, I moved it over to the side, out of the way. ‘It won’t work.’
    â€˜What do you mean, it won’t work?’ he said impatiently. ‘Of course it’ll work — we’ve just spent the last hour making sure it’ll work perfectly!’
    â€˜You don’t understand,’ I said hopelessly. After all, how could he? This house — the computer — the car — the food — every single thing about Cameron was so different from me that we might as well have been in separate worlds. He could never understand the kind of problems that existed for me. How could he? How could we even begin to be friends?
    Cameron looked at me from behind his thick glasses and said: ‘What don’t I understand?’
    So I blurted it out. ‘We forgot about money. It would all cost money, all the buses and trains and stuff.’
    Cameron carried on staring at me, waiting for more. ‘So?’
    â€˜I don’t have any.’ I was mad at myself for not thinking of it before … and ashamed to have to admit it in front of Cameron.
    He looked at me as though I’d slapped him in the face. A blush crept over his cheeks, and his glasses kind ofmisted over. He looked down. He’s ashamed, too, I thought. Ashamed he ever invited me here.
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ he said, so softly I had to struggle to hear him. ‘I never even thought. Of course you don’t have any money.’ He gave me this little glinting shy glance. ‘I don’t suppose … I don’t want to offend you, or anything.’ He took a deep breath. ‘But I have heaps. I can give you, or lend you, or whatever, enough to pay for the train fares and stuff, and a bit extra, without even noticing. Would you let me? As my contribution to your secret mission?’
    I thought about it — for about a millisecond. I’m pretty good at recognising when I have a choice, and when I don’t. ‘Well, thanks, I guess,’ I said, ‘but it’s a loan, right? I’ll pay you back the second I have money of my own. Only thing is …’ I found I was grinning at him, ‘don’t hold your breath, OK?’
    â€˜OK,’ he said, and held out his hand. I held out mine too, and we shook.
    â€˜Deal,’ he said.
    â€˜Deal.’ But in my mind, I wasn’t really shaking on that. In my mind, I was hearing friend .
    It sounded like the best word I’d ever heard.

Matron strikes back
    What with end-of-term tests and athletic trials, the next few days passed in a blur. Before I knew it, it was Friday. The last day of school — and the day before I was due to set off. I still couldn’t believe it was really going to happen — and that was another reason I was glad I’d told Cameron. Without him counting down the hours with me, I reckon I’d have written the whole thing off as a crazy dream.
    Miss McCracken handed out our reports, along with the usual lecture about them being addressed to our parents — and guardians , with a meaningful look at me — not us, so we must on no account open them.
    We took all the artwork and projects off the walls and everyone was given theirs to take home. Cameron rolled his up carefully and asked Miss McCracken for a rubber band to keep them all together.
    I screwed mine up and tossed them in the bin.
    â€˜ Adam! ’ said Cameron. ‘Why did you do that?’
    Anyone who looked at my stuff for more than a millisecond wouldn’t need to ask. It was rubbish — even Miss McCracken didn’t pretend any different, always sticking it up way off in one corner, or behind a pot plant. ‘I don’t keep that kind of junk,’ I told him. ‘Don’t have the space.’
    At last the bell went. On the way to the door, Cameron gave me a dig in the