I’m walking down the hill towards the estate, debating whether to go straight home or go down to the canal, when someone shouts my name. I stop walking and turn around to see Sergei racing towards me.

‘I waited for you, Calum,’ he calls breathlessly. ‘We can go to the community centre together. The meeting, it starts in only ten minutes.’

I’d forgotten about the meeting but I’m not really in the mood for going now anyway.

‘It will be fun,’ Sergei says, sensing my hesitation. ‘To hear about the competition that you are going to win.’

‘I don’t even know if I’m entering yet.’ I scowl. ‘I don’t need you going on at me about it.’ I have enough of that from Freya.

‘Calum, you have to enter.’ He grins. ‘You are so good at this stuff.’

‘How would you know?’ I scoff, setting off walking again. I mainly write plays in my head, so unless he’s a mind reader . . .

‘You seem to know a lot about films,’ he says. ‘That is what I mean. So, I think you could write a good script, yes? My buildings, they tell their own story, like a set design. And you tell the story through your words.’

I like the way it sounds. If only it were that simple.

By the time we get to the bottom of the hill, I’ve already decided not to bother going to the meeting. I don’t want to sit with a load of toffs from Mapperley Top. I feel crap enough as it is, having been Nobby No Mates all day at school.

‘Come on,’ Sergei calls, turning into the estate as I carry on walking.

I stop and look past him, at the soft, friendly terracotta glow of the Expressions building. A woman is opening the wrought-iron gates, propping each one open. She turns and smiles at us before going back inside.

‘The meeting is starting very soon,’ he presses me.

There doesn’t seem to be anyone around. No hordes of intelligent arty types who probably write dozens of screenplays a week.

‘I am going to the meeting.’ Sergei sighs. ‘Will you also come, Calum?’

I am really interested in writing. I suppose there’s a slight chance it might be interesting, even if I decide not to enter.

I turn around and we walk up to the community centre together.

Inside, the place is buzzing.

There are free drinks in the foyer with the dreaded arty types standing together in a group, flailing their arms everywhere while they talk. I can see Hugo Fox at the centre of them, holding court and boasting about what plays he’s been in. Yawn.

I notice there are also lots of people there like me. People whose eyes dart around the room nervously before looking at the floor or at their phones.

My throat feels suddenly tight and I need some air. I’m about to turn around and walk out when someone grasps my arm.

‘Calum, I’m so pleased to see you here. Hello, Sergei.’

‘Hello, Freya.’ He beams.

‘I haven’t decided if I’m entering the competition yet,’ I say quickly. ‘He dragged me in.’

‘That’s absolutely fine.’ She lets go of my arm and smiles at Sergei. ‘This meeting is for information only. There’s no obligation to enter.’

‘That is what I told him, Freya.’ Sergei nods. ‘It will give Calum information about the competition and be interesting for him.’

‘Exactly.’ Freya smiles. ‘Well done, Sergei!’

Sergei is such a creep. Talking about me to Freya as if I’m a little kid.

‘Yeah, well, like I said,’ I mumble. ‘I’ve not made my mind up yet.’

‘OK, well I’ll catch up with you afterwards, see what you think,’ Freya says, spotting someone else she knows and drifting away from us.

Getting the hard sell about the competition from Freya isn’t my idea of fun. I’ll be making a quick exit after the meeting.

‘I will get us some juice and a biscuit,’ Sergei says, and walks over to the refreshment table.

‘Fancy meeting you here,’ someone whispers in my ear.

I spin round to come face to face with Amelia. Her face is so close to mine I can see her long lashes and a sort of dancing light in her enormous brown eyes.

‘What are you doing here?’ I step back, wishing I hadn’t got my crumpled school uniform on.

Amelia is wearing white denim shorts and a white T-shirt, paired with her usual Converse trainers that she somehow makes look stylish, rather than low-key. I glance at her slim brown legs and smooth arms, before looking away.

‘Pleased to see you here, too.’ She grins. Against her pink glossy lips, her teeth seem even whiter today. ‘I often come up here. They have some good events on.’

‘Are you entering the screenwriting competition?’ I ask, willing my cheeks to cool down a bit.

‘Me? Oh no, that’s not my sort of thing. I come to all sorts of stuff here though, just to get off the boat, you know? For something to do.’

Sergei appears with two white plastic cups of orange squash and two chocolate bourbons clutched in one grubby hand.

‘Who’s this, then? Your friend?’ Amelia is as forthright as ever.

‘His name’s Sergei,’ I grunt, taking a cup from him. ‘This is Amelia. She lives on a narrowboat moored on the canal.’

‘Hello, Sergei!’ Amelia holds out her hand. ‘I remember now, Calum told us all about you when he visited, how pleased he is you’re staying with him.’

I glare at her but she won’t look at me.

‘I am very pleased to meet you, Amelia.’ Sergei hastily hands me the biscuits and wipes his fingers on the side of his school trousers before reaching for Amelia’s hand.

She snatches it back before he can grasp it. ‘The trick that never gets old!’ she squeals.

I scowl.

Sergei roars with laughter. ‘Aha, you got me that time, Amelia. Good one!’

I look at him, surprised. He seems to be suddenly picking up some English phrases.

‘Sorry, mate.’ Amelia grins and shakes his hand properly this time. ‘I’m a sucker for it, aren’t I, Calum?’

I shuffle my feet and take a sip of my juice.

‘I like people who are fun,’ Sergei beams. ‘And living on a narrowboat, that sounds a lot of fun. My home city, Warsaw, sits on the Vistula River. It is the longest and largest river in the whole of Poland and we see a lot of boats on there.’

‘Cool!’

‘And near my home, there was a big boatyard, too. I really like all types of boats.’

Sergei is such a bragger. I can tell Amelia is impressed by the way she’s nodding and widening her eyes as if what he’s saying is really interesting. He’s so annoying.

Someone claps their hands over the other side of the foyer. It’s the woman I saw opening the gates.

‘Hi, everyone, thanks for coming. Can you take your seats in the hall now please, we’re about to start.’

Everyone begins to filter through into the big space in the middle of the centre.

‘I will get you a juice to take through, Amelia,’ Sergei says and disappears.

‘Your friend is such a gentleman.’ Amelia’s eyes dance around my glum face and she presses her lips together as if she’s trying to stop herself from laughing out loud. ‘Maybe you could learn something from him, instead of calling him names behind his back.’

‘I haven’t said anything I wouldn’t say to his face.’ I wish I could take back what I said about Sergei and his mum on the narrowboat, but I’m not grovelling to Amelia when she’s in this mood.

‘Well you should be ashamed then. Is it really too much to ask, to welcome new people and offer a bit of support? Some friend you are to him.’

‘I never said he was my friend,’ I growl, watching as the foyer empties around us.

‘No? Why are you with him then?’ She nudges my arm, goading me.

‘I can’t get rid of him.’ I clench my back teeth together.

Sergei springs back in front of Amelia, holding up her juice like an eager puppy.

‘Thanks, Sergei,’ she says with a smile. ‘Calum was just saying how you two are such good friends now.’

‘We have some work still to do, I think.’ Sergei glances doubtfully at me. ‘But one day, we will arrive there.’

I turn round and start walking into the hall. My head is starting to pound and I feel hot.

I can hear Amelia laughing behind me.