The next morning, George almost misses the bus. He climbs on, panting, then steps heavily down the aisle, bracing himself as he goes. I watch him come, waiting for him to glance my way. If I smile, he might smile back …

But George’s gaze never even rises from the floor. He sinks into the first free space on the other side of the bus.

I spend the whole trip staring at the back of his head. Does he hate me now? Will George ever look my way again? How can I fix all this if he won’t even talk to me?

As soon as we stop at school, George is up and away. No-one could have seen what just happened, but it makes me feel empty inside. I’m last off, trudging down the aisle behind a huge year-twelve backpack.

Once down the steps, I stand for a few seconds beside the road. I swap my bag to the other shoulder. This could be a mistake.

Cautiously, I step up the main path that leads past Briana and Phoebe at their bench. As I come over the rise, my eyes go straight to our spot. My old spot.

A tiny speck of hope rises as I see Briana sitting by herself. We’ll be able to talk for a few minutes without Phoebe.

When I get near the bench my stomach turns over. I think about continuing past. But I force myself to stay where I am, unsure how to stand or where to look. Briana springs out of her seat and steps towards me.

‘Did you get my text?’ she asks.

‘Yeah.’ My mouth scrunches. Can’t meet those questioning eyes.

Briana shifts her weight as if expecting me to say more. After a while, she tries again. ‘Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Hamish. I know you’re upset. But I hate us fighting like this.’ Her forehead wrinkles. ‘What’s happening to us, E?’

When Briana says that, my throat goes tight. It’s almost too close to how things used to be, when we wrote each other notes in class and signed them, ‘Best Friends Forever.’

But we were little kids then. We didn’t know what was coming.

I shake my head. ‘I don’t know. It’s … not just that.’

‘Then what?’ Briana stares along the path, then turns back to me. ‘Are you saying you don’t want to hang out with us anymore?’

And there it is. That little word. Us.

‘It’s not you. It’s Phoebe —’

Briana’s hands go straight to her hips. ‘You can’t ask me to stop being friends with her!’

‘I know!’ And to make her see that I get it, I say it again. ‘I know.’

Our eyes meet and this time there’s a clear under-standing between us, as if we’re finally talking. As if we’re not little kids anymore.

‘I know you don’t like her,’ says Briana. ‘But Phoebe wasn’t the start of all this.’

Phoebe is the whole problem, if you ask me.

‘Remember when I had that crush on Daz last year,’ says Briana. ‘And you got so sick of me talking about him?’

I’d forgotten about Daz. He was her first.

‘Then when Phoebe started hanging out with us, you just sat back and zoned out … as if it was a relief not to have to listen to me blab on anymore.’

Zoned out? Well, maybe. I just didn’t get it. I didn’t know what to say.

Briana’s eyebrows pinch. ‘It made me feel like you didn’t care about me. And Phoebe … she listened, you know? She’s really good to talk to, if you let her.’ Briana stares down at her hands before looking back up at me. ‘I guess I kind of wanted to make you jealous. But you never were.’

‘I always was!’ I say. Though I guess I never came out and said it. I’d been blaming Phoebe for all this, when none of it was her fault. Not really. I can’t stop my mouth kinking up. ‘You wanted to make me jealous?’

‘Maybe. In a friends sort of way.’ Briana matches my small smile.

I shake my head. ‘I know I haven’t listened like I should have.’ I shrug. ‘I really miss you, Bri. But I miss the way things used to be. We’re so different now.’

‘Different now?’ Briana scoffs. ‘We’ve always been different! That’s what I like about you, Erin. I never know what to expect.’

For a moment we just look at each other, and then Briana’s smiling at me. ‘We’re idiots, aren’t we?’

‘Speak for yourself.’ But I’m smiling too.

‘Oh, come on, Erin!’ Briana grabs my hand and squeezes. ‘Are we okay? I really want us to be okay.’

I meet her gaze. She has been missing me, just like I’ve been missing her. It’s all I needed to hear. I squeeze her hand back. ‘We’re better than okay.’

‘Good.’

Side by side, we walk to our bench. I drop my bag next to Briana’s while she sits sideways with one leg hooked under the other. I settle down next to her.

‘So, what did you say to George in the end?’ Briana asks.

‘I don’t know. I asked a heap of questions and he got really upset.’ I shake my head. ‘It was awful. Now I can’t even speak to him.’

‘Why not?’

I think about the way George was on the bus this morning and my hands lift in frustration. ‘He won’t even look at me. It’s so weird. I’m not sure what to do.’

How do you stay friends with someone who’s asked you out on a date? Someone you’ve made feel really bad?

‘Well,’ starts Briana, then her eyes focus behind me and her expression changes. I follow her line of sight to find Phoebe coming towards us and immediately want to shrink away. I’ve been acting so badly around Phoebe, blaming her for stuff that was going on between me and Bri.

Phoebe drops her bag. ‘Hi,’ she says, glancing from me to Briana.

‘Hey, Phoebe.’ Briana turns to me.

I clear my throat. ‘Hi.’

Then we go quiet. Phoebe’s forehead creases and her eyes lower. Strange. Usually she’s the first to speak.

I square my shoulders and focus on Phoebe. ‘Um, I’d like to hang out with you two again, you know, if that’s okay?’

‘Not my call …’ Phoebe glances at Bri and then back to me. ‘But since you’re asking? It’s okay with me.’

I tuck my feet under the bench, wondering what to say. All I can tell her is the truth, I guess.

‘So, I’m sorry I’ve been acting so weird. I want to explain,’ I say. ‘All that stuff about me keeping secrets? It’s because I haven’t been sure what to say. I’m … I don’t know … totally retarded when it comes to guys. I spend my whole time with no idea what to say. And when I try … I end up saying the wrong stuff all the time.’

A small smile creeps over Briana’s lips. ‘You can’t say retarded these days, you know. Maybe you should say “romantically challenged”. That’s more PC.’

As Phoebe lets out a laugh, my shoulders relax. She sits beside me so I have Bri on one side and Phoebe on the other.

I’m not used to being in the middle. ‘So … you know George? He asked me to a movie.’

Phoebe looks confused. ‘George?’

‘He’s on Erin’s bus,’ says Briana. ‘Year above us. Dark hair, really into computers.’

I’m surprised that Phoebe hasn’t heard about George. I thought that Briana and Phoebe told each other everything.

‘He asked you out?’ asks Phoebe.

I glance at Briana. ‘Yeah …’

‘… and she chickened out,’ giggles Briana.

Phoebe turns to me questioningly.

‘Now he won’t even talk to me.’ I glance sideways at Briana, who nods. ‘I guess I didn’t get why he asked me. I mean … we’ve been friends for so long, and we talk on the bus all the time. But now that he asked me, it’s all so … weird. I thought I knew him really well, but I’m not so sure anymore. It’s like, I can’t work out what he’s thinking …’

‘Welcome to the club!’ smiles Phoebe. ‘Why do you think we talk about our crushes all the time? We never know what guys are thinking.’ She clears her throat. ‘So, you do like him, but don’t know how to act around him. And you’re not even talking anymore?’

‘Yeah …’ I say slowly, as it all sinks in. A whimper escapes. ‘I do like him. What am I going to do?’

Even Briana’s quiet now. She squeezes my knee sympathetically.

‘Well, if you want my advice?’ asks Phoebe.

I nod quickly. ‘Uh-huh?’

‘Why don’t you ask him to the movies as friends,’ she says. ‘That way you’ll get to hang out and talk, at least.’

It makes sense as soon as she says it. That idea’s pretty good …

Phoebe and Briana lean forward. Right until the second bell we plan what I should do, our heads close, shutting out the rest of the world.

Even after the bell goes, I’m still not sure exactly what to say. For all I know, George won’t even listen. But I’m going to try.

As soon as the final bell goes, I grab my bag and exchange glances with Briana and Phoebe. Phoebe mouths, Good luck, while Briana nods meaningfully. Then I turn and fight against the crowd in the corridor, making my way to B block.

I stop and wait beside the stairs, then change my mind and find a spot near the noticeboard that George will have to pass on his way to the bus. Perfect. It’s just past a corner, so it won’t be obvious I’m here.

While I wait, I lean against the wall, my heart thumping, doing my best to act cool. It makes me realise how nervous George must have been, knocking on my door. The way he couldn’t look me in the eye. The way he rocked on the balls of his feet …

I still can’t believe that he actually asked me.

After a while, I see George trudging down the steps on his own, a bag slung over his shoulder. As soon as he spots me, he stiffens and slows. Just as he’s passing, he mutters, ‘Hi,’ and keeps walking as if that’s the end of that.

‘Hi,’ I say, falling into pace with him. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’

His steps slow for a moment. Then he charges forward, dodging around bodies in the corridor like he’s some sort of rugby player.

I have to jog a few steps, skipping to the side at one point, trying to keep up. I’m panting when I finally catch up enough to say, ‘I wanted to talk to you about going to the movie. Explain why I —’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ George says over the top of me. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

He keeps race-walking, and this time I’m not sure what to do. Maybe there’s nothing I can say to fix all this, maybe he’ll never talk to me again. I drop behind with a kind of churning sickness inside.

When we come to our section on the bus road, a couple of people are already sitting on the fence. George dumps his bag a few metres away from them and leans backwards against a pole.

He crosses his arms, facing the road. Not looking at me. Everything about his body language is saying leave me alone.

Maybe this is a mistake. George might hate me now. I wipe my palms on my dress. Should I leave him alone? But then I think of what Lucy said. Trust your instincts.

Somehow, it gives me the courage to try.

A couple of year-nine kids are sharing headphones, nodding to the music. But other than them, most people are sitting on the bench seats a short distance away.

I scuff at the ground with a boot, and clear my throat. ‘So … have you asked someone else to go to the movie?’

‘Who else would I ask?’ says George, turning to me with his arms still crossed.

I shrug. ‘The other girl you took on a date last time …’

George shakes his head and he gets this really serious look in his eye. ‘There is no other girl.’

Really? I hold my mouth straight but it wants to curl up at the sides. Good. Never liked her in the first place. ‘Because the thing is, I guess I sort of freaked out and said it all wrong … and made it sound like I didn’t want to go. I’m sorry.’

George’s expression still hasn’t changed, but his eyes are fixed on me as if I’m the only person around.

I swallow and keep going. ‘So, I was thinking, if you want … we could still go as friends?’ No reaction. ‘My shout. To say sorry for being such an idiot.’

George uncrosses his arms. ‘You’re not an idiot, Erin.’

That makes me relax, but not enough to actually smile. Things might be okay between us again.

The bus squeaks to a stop and the door hisses open. Lazily, everyone reaches for their bags. George picks up his backpack and walks towards the line.

I swing my arms nervously, wondering whether or not to follow behind him.

Part way to the bus, George stops and turns. ‘So … I’ll check the times?’ he asks. ‘Saturday afternoon?’

Breathing out, I manage a single nod. ‘Sounds good.’

Our eyes meet, and George smiles. ‘Okay.’

This time, I smile back.