Jack waited outside his classroom for first period alone.

Reese and Darylyn had apparently been so caught up in their private hand-holding, earbud-sharing love-zone that they hadn’t even waited at the school gate for him.

Meanwhile, Vivi had been a no-show in home room that morning.

Where are you? Jack texted. He switched his phone off silent so he’d be sure to get her reply as soon as she sent it.

How long has this Reese and Darylyn thing been going on? he wondered. They’d been friends since primary school, before Jack even knew them, so it wasn’t weird that they’d walked to school together. But the hand-holding and the almost-kissing was definitely weird.

He wondered if Vivi knew. Maybe she did. Maybe Jack was doomed to be the last one to find out – possibly because he’d been the last one to join the gang, but more likely because he was the only one who hadn’t sprouted functioning sex parts yet.

The rest of 8C milled about the corridor. Jack picked out some of the faces he’d known since Upland West Primary: people he’d sat next to in class, people he’d played sport with, people he’d been friends with, even. But then there’d been Bigwigs, and the start of high school, and meeting Vivi and Reese and Darylyn. Everyone had outgrown the old bonds from primary school.

He wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake, turning away from his Bigwigs semi-fame. He should have cashed it in as a kind of popularity insurance policy. Maybe then it wouldn’t have been so easy for everyone to leave him behind. As it was, he felt like an embarrassing leftover from another time.

A time before pubes.

‘Jack!’ said a voice behind him. Jack turned to see Philo standing in the corridor, grinning eagerly. ‘Hi! You’ve got lavender in your hair!’

Jack tipped his head forward and finger-combed the purple flowers out of his fringe. ‘Hi, Philo.’

‘Speaking of hair …’ Philo reached into his satchel.

Jack glanced at Philo warily. Speaking of hair? This did not sound good.

‘That’s right: I think I might have the solution to your problem!’

Jack shook his head. ‘I don’t have a –’

‘Ta-da!’

Philo handed Jack a flap of beige-coloured cloth with a dense mass of black, wiry strands stitched to it. Underneath the cloth were several strips of carefully positioned double-sided tape.

Jack stared at it for a moment. Then he stared at it a moment longer.

‘Is this what I think it is?’ he whispered, wide-eyed with horror. He looked up at Philo in a panic. ‘Is this … holy crap, is this a merkin?’

‘I don’t know,’ Philo whispered back. ‘What’s a merkin?’

Jack took Philo aside and shook the wiry thatch at him. ‘It’s this!’ he hissed, keeping his voice low so no-one else would hear. ‘It’s what this is. This is a merkin. This pube wig is a merkin!’

In Year 7, Jack had mistyped the word ‘Merlin’ in an English essay and became curious when the spellchecker didn’t pick it up. One image search later, and a whole new world of pubic fashion had been laid bare – or not – before him.

‘Oh,’ said Philo, looking annoyed. ‘I didn’t realise that was already a thing.’

‘You mean … you came up with the idea of a merkin by yourself?’

‘Yeah, I guess so. Wow, now I feel stupid. I could’ve just bought one on the internet or something. Anyway, it’s just so you don’t have to feel so out of place in the changing room.’

‘No, this wouldn’t make me look out of place at all,’ Jack said, rolling his eyes. Then he stopped. ‘Wait, if you didn’t buy this …’

‘I made it.’

‘You made it?’

‘With Mother’s sewing kit. It took me all night.’

Jack turned the material over in his hands. Gross and creepy though it was, he had to admit Philo had put a lot of effort into it. ‘You know, it’s actually pretty solid work … What did you use for the – ?’ Then his eyes widened. ‘Wait … Oh my god, it’s not your hair, is it?’

Philo went suddenly shifty-eyed. ‘What?’

Jack held the homemade merkin as far away as possible without attracting attention from the rest of 8C. ‘Have you just given me a handful of your own pubes?’ he hissed.

‘Would that be bad?’

‘Yes, that would be bad!’

‘Even if they’d been shampooed first?’

Jack’s eyes widened even further. ‘So they are your pubes!’

Philo paused. ‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Whose are they, then?’

‘Whose are what?’

‘Whose pubes are they? What else would I be talking about when I’m holding a bunch of pubes? What were you expecting me to do with this thing, anyway?’ Jack whispered. ‘Wear it?’

‘Just until …’ Philo lowered his hands and made wafting motions upwards in an apparent attempt to mime the growth of pubic hair.

‘I don’t believe this!’

‘You’d be more like Oliver Sampson,’ said Philo.

‘Why? Does he have someone else’s pubes stuffed down his jocks as well?’

‘Sampson? I don’t know. You could ask him!’

‘Ask me what?’

Jack turned to see Sampson standing behind him. And standing next to Sampson was homeroom no-show and recent non-replier-to-texts, Vivi Dink-Dawson.

‘Hey, cuz,’ she said to Philo. ‘Hey, Jack.’ She tried to see what Jack was holding. ‘Oh my god, what is that?’

‘Nothing,’ said Jack, stuffing the merkin into his pocket. ‘And Philo was just leaving. Weren’t you, Philo?’

‘I sure was!’ said Philo. ‘If I don’t get a move on, I’ll be late for school!’

Sampson frowned. ‘You’re … at school already?’

Philo blinked. ‘Okay, that was pretty stupid, even for me. I guess I shouldn’t have stayed up so late making Jack that merk–’

‘Merkel!’ blurted Jack. ‘That … sculpture of Angela Merkel. You know. The German prime minister or whatever. Oh man, she’s definitely my favourite world leader who’s a lady.’

Philo now looked even more confused than normal. Jack gave him a little shove to send him on his way, then turned back to Vivi.

Sampson was still hovering next to her. It was almost as though Vivi had temporarily forgotten what a massive brainless jerk he was.

‘I thought you must have been sick or something,’ said Jack, doing his best to ignore Sampson. ‘I mean, that Mayor for a Week thing is on today, right? I didn’t think you’d want to miss that.’

‘I think you’ll find Angela Merkel is the German chancellor,’ said Sampson, ‘not prime minister.’

‘Oh,’ said Jack. ‘Really?’

Really? he thought. Sampson knows a three-syllable word?

‘That’s why we’re late,’ said Vivi. ‘We bumped into each other at the bus stop and just got fully into this conversation about whether I should apply or not. Oliver’s coming to the information session too.’

‘We got talking yesterday after PE,’ Sampson explained. He glanced down at Vivi. ‘You know, comparing notes on the soccer match. One captain to another!’

‘A meeting of equals!’ joked Vivi.

Jack looked from Vivi to Sampson and back again. What the hell was going on? ‘I … thought we’d already agreed you should definitely go for it?’ he said.

Vivi frowned. ‘I don’t think we had. Anyway, I figured it couldn’t hurt to get another opinion. Mix things up a little.’

Jack couldn’t help thinking things seemed plenty mixed up already.

‘Oliver’s going to meet me outside the student centre, before the information session.’ Vivi caught Jack’s eye. ‘I thought you’d probably want to tag along too?’

‘Yeah,’ said Jack. ‘Sure.’ What could he do: say no? Risk getting Vivi offside? It wasn’t an option. Not with Sampson looking very much on-side. ‘Tag along. That sounds like my kind of thing …’

Vivi brightened. ‘Awesome! I already have some ideas about what I’d like to do as Mayor for a Week –’

(This came as no surprise to Jack.)

‘– but I was thinking you guys could help me out, maybe workshop some stuff, kick some other ideas around?’

‘Totally,’ said Jack. ‘I’m actually pretty good with that sort of thing.’ He glanced up at Sampson, suddenly feeling as though he was on surer ground. ‘You know, from being on Bigwigs. When you think about it, it’s pretty similar. Kids doing adult jobs. And Bigwigs was a competition, Mayor for a Week’s a competition … So, yeah – I’m totally qualified to help.’

‘Bigwigs,’ Sampson snorted. ‘Like anyone watches that show anymore. Just because it’s moved to Network Twelve and it’s running in prime time and has brand-new corporate sponsors and bigger prizes and …’ He stopped, seeming to notice the way Vivi and Jack were looking at him. ‘I mean, I don’t really keep up with it. That’s just what I heard. All I’m saying is, it’s still a stupid kids show.’

The bell rang for first period.

‘So we’ll see you later, yeah?’ said Vivi, looking at Sampson.

‘Totes,’ said Sampson. He flashed a dark look at Jack, which went unnoticed by Vivi, then walked off down the corridor.

‘What are you doing getting him involved in this?’ hissed Jack.

‘In what?’ said Vivi.

‘In this! In … us.’

‘I … don’t think there is an “us”, Jack.’

‘Not us us. I mean all of us. Me and you and Reese and Darylyn.’ Again, Jack wondered if Vivi knew about Reese and Darylyn’s secret pairing. If she did, she didn’t show it.

‘Look, Jack,’ said Vivi, ‘things aren’t always going to stay the same …’

(Jack wanted to mention that he had three terms’ worth of looking down his pyjama bottoms that suggested otherwise.)

‘… and anyway, Oliver actually seems like an okay guy when you get to know him. Plus the only reason we got talking yesterday after PE was because you disappeared on me.’

Disappeared, thought Jack. That’s exactly what he felt was happening. He wondered how long it would be before nobody saw him at all.