I have a quiet weekend – basically I have no life now that I’m being punished. Leni calls to invite me over for a DVD night but I make an excuse. I’ve decided not to tell my friends about the whole shoplifting thing. Not yet, anyway. Luckily I’m good at hiding my emotions. I just act super bouncy and no-one has any idea how I’m actually feeling.

We have maths first thing on Monday morning, and as we’re heading for the classroom my stomach starts doing little flips. Mr Cartright hasn’t said anything to me yet about the maths test but I figure today will be the day. What will happen? With the way my luck is going he’s probably decided to have me expelled, or at least suspended. Just imagine how overjoyed my parents would be about that.

So I spend the entire lesson stressing about it, but it’s not until the end that Mr Cartright finally hands out our tests. My heart is thumping as I take mine. I’m halfexpecting to see that ninety-five per cent crossed out. But it’s still there and Mr Cartright even smiles at me. At least, I think that’s what he’s trying to do. ‘Well done,’ he says.

Leni leans over to see. ‘Whoa, Anya!’ she says in her foghorn voice. ‘That’s such an amazing mark!’

I feel all the blood rush to my face as everyone else turns around, trying to see what I got. ‘It was just a fluke,’ I mutter.

Mr Cartright turns back around then and gives me a funny look. ‘Anya got the top mark on this test,’ he announces. ‘Which just shows what you can do if you put in a little effort.’

The bell goes and I’m just about to walk out when Mr Cartright stops me. ‘I’d like a quick word, please.’

My stomach turns over. ‘I’ll catch up with you guys,’ I call to Leni and Soph, and they nod and shoot me sympathetic looks.

‘So,’ says Mr Cartright when everyone’s gone. ‘You’ll be glad to know that I believe you didn’t cheat. That’s good, isn’t it?’

I nod, but there’s something about Mr Cartright’s voice that makes me think there’s more to come. Something I might not like.

‘Do you want to know why?’ he asks, and without waiting for an answer he produces a computer printout from a stack of papers on his desk. My insides lurch sideways as I take in the picture. It’s a frizzy-haired girl wearing a baggy, cacky-brown uniform, holding up a bunch of cardboard medals and grinning like an idiot. Along the bottom is written, Mathlete of the Year!

I want to snatch that piece of paper and rip it into a thousand pieces. ‘Where did you get that?’

‘Your old teacher, Miss Smith, emailed it to me,’ says Mr Cartright calmly. ‘I rang up your primary school after our chat on Friday. Miss Smith was more than happy to tell me about what a great student you were. In fact, she raved to me about how gifted you were in maths.’

It feels like a pretty sneaky thing for Mr Cartright to do – ringing my old school like that. But Mr Cartright doesn’t look ashamed. He’s looking pretty proud of himself, actually. He leans back in his chair and locks his hands across his chest.

‘Things are going to change from now on, Anya,’ he says. ‘There’ll be no more pretending you don’t get it. No more just scraping by in tests. And no brushing your good marks off as flukes.’ He puts a few sheets of paper down in front of me, covered with maths problems. ‘I’m going to start giving you extra homework too and there’s also a form for an upcoming maths competition that – ’

‘I’m not entering any maths competitions,’ I say firmly, cutting him off. ‘Or doing extra work. I won’t deliberately do badly anymore, but I’m not doing anything else.’ There’s no way I’m letting him turn me into a favourite.

‘That’s ridiculous,’ snaps Mr Cartright. ‘I’m not letting this go.’

But I’m not backing down either. There’s a moment when we just glare at each other. And then I have an idea.

One of those ideas that appear when you’re desperate. ‘What if I come up with some kind of extra maths thing on my own?’ I say. ‘Like, a project or something?’ I’m not really sure what I mean – maybe helping Dad with his insulation stuff – but I basically just want Mr Cartright to get off my case. And I definitely don’t want him enrolling me in maths competitions. I can tell he thinks I’m trying to get out of it but finally he says, ‘Well, you come up with some ideas and we’ll discuss it.’

He lets me go, but just as I’m opening the door he calls me again. ‘If you don’t come up with an alternative project, you will be enrolled in the maths competition, okay?’

I don’t doubt for a second that he means it too.

When I finally meet up with my friends they are discussing the social, which is only five days away now. ‘Mum says we can all meet at my house,’ says Leni, ‘and she’ll drive us there together.’ I don’t want to talk about the social, but at some stage I’ll have to break the news that I won’t be there.

‘Actually, I’m not going now after all,’ I say, shrugging like the whole thing is no big deal.

‘Oh no!’ says Leni.

‘Why?’ says Soph. ‘Is this because of Ethan again?’

‘No, it’s not because of him,’ I say quickly. ‘I just don’t want to go because I know it will be completely lame. I’m actually pretty surprised that you guys want to go.’

Then Soph looks at me in that way she does. Like she’s a bloodhound, sniffing out clues. ‘What’s going on, Anya? You’ve been acting really weird.’

‘No, I haven’t!’ I say.

‘Yes, you have,’ corrects Soph. ‘You’ve been doing that super-chirpy thing that you always do when you’re upset but don’t want to tell us why.’

The good thing about friends is that they know how you’re feeling, no matter how hard you try to hide it. The bad thing is that you can’t get away with anything! I flop down onto the grass and close my eyes, because then I can’t see my friends’ faces when they find out what a bad person I am. A thief.

‘I’m not going because I’m not allowed to go, all right? I’m not allowed to do anything – no movies, no shopping trips. Nothing for at least two months. Which is just as well because Mum and Dad cut off my allowance anyway.’

Leni and Soph are both quiet for a minute, letting this all soak in.

‘What happened?’ asks Leni, and her voice is full of concern. Then she squishes up next to me on the grass. ‘Go on,’ she says. ‘Tell us.’

When I don’t answer, Soph squishes up on my other side so it’s like I’m trapped in a sandwich. A friendwich, I guess.

So I tell them. The whole story. All about the Charm Bra and how it felt like I was meant to have it, but I didn’t have enough money. And then about the shoplifting stuff and all about being caught and how bad it made me feel when Mum was so upset. My friends listen in the way I like people to listen – without making any shocked noises or interrupting or anything. Just listening. But because I’ve got my eyes shut, I’ve got no idea what they think about all this. Whether they’re shocked or they hate my guts or whatever.

When I’ve finished, I feel two opposite things at once.

I’m relieved that it’s out there, but I’m also really, really scared about what my friends will say. So I say something first. ‘I guess you must think I’m a terrible person now, huh?’

I feel Leni sit up and I open my eyes. She doesn’t look like she hates me, but she does look serious. ‘Anya Saunders,’ she says. ‘You are so not a terrible person. You are one of the most generous people I’ve ever met. You’re always lending out your stuff, or giving it away.’

Then Soph joins in. ‘Leni’s right,’ she says. ‘And you always help out with stuff too – like when you came on that “March for the Forests” with me and Mum last month. I know you didn’t really want to go, but you did it anyway. That meant a lot.’

I feel my eyes starting to go all blurry. ‘So you guys don’t think I’m some manky thief?’ I say, my voice catching in my throat.

Leni bear-hugs me. ‘No way! You’re Anya the Amazing,’ she says.

Soph nods. ‘So you made a dumb mistake,’ she says. ‘Everyone does that.’ Then she places her hand across her chest and presses it. ‘But you’re good in here, you know?’

I’m seriously close to losing it now. ‘Gee thanks, guys, for making me cry,’ I say, trying to make a joke of it. But the thing is that even though I’m teary, I feel lighter. Like my friends’ words have lifted me up. Given me a boost.

‘If you’re not going to the social, then I’m not going either,’ Leni declares suddenly.

Soph nods in agreement. ‘We’ll just come around to your place and watch a DVD instead.’

This shocks me out of crying. ‘No!’ I say. ‘You guys have to go. I’m not allowed to have DVD nights anyway, remember? I want you to go and tell me what it’s like.’ I don’t tell them that I’m actually hoping they’ll finally meet some guys they like, and my triple-dating dreams will come true.

My friends still look unsure. ‘Please go,’ I say. ‘I need you to be there. Because if you see Ethan slow-dancing with Hannah you have to jump in between them, okay?’ In the end they laugh and say that they’ll go after all. Just for me.