On Friday after school, Mum packs my suitcase and we drive to Rosie’s Cottage. Kirsten’s had a last-minute cancellation and, although Kieran’s moved in, Mum decides to take up the offer.

We ring the bell at the gate, and after one look at Mum’s sunken cheeks, Kirsten gently ushers us inside. I glance around for Aimee, but the place is empty.

‘The others will be back shortly,’ explains Kirsten, taking my hands so Mum can unload. ‘They’ve just popped out to the shops.’

Mum brings in my bag and my wheelchair. She has a strange look on her face, like she’s afraid she’ll cry.

I’ll be okay, Mum. Don’t worry. I’ll have a great weekend here with Kirsten and the others. You just look after Dad.

I’m smiling, trying to show her I’m happy about staying at the house, when the buzzer at the front gate blasts. Mum flinches but Kirsten jumps up to answer it.

‘Ava! You’re back,’ says a familiar robotic voice.

Aimee!

My smile goes into overdrive. I’ll definitely have a great weekend now. I lean forwards with excitement as Aimee wheels herself inside. ‘Super, super cool. We just bought stuff for nachos. Want to help?’

‘Do you think, maybe, I should just take Ava home …’ Mum begins.

Nooooo! I want to stay!

Luckily Kirsten’s shaking her head. ‘Nonsense. Ava will be fine. The girls are going to make nachos and then we’ll plan the activities for the weekend.’ She calls out to Aimee’s carer, who’s taking shopping bags to the kitchen. ‘You okay with that, Sheena? Can Ava come and help?’

Out in the kitchen, Aimee’s teasing Sheena about something that happened at the shops. ‘You should have seen her, Ava. She just made a beeline for the chip aisle and I’m like, “Sheena, wait for me!” And everyone’s looking, like literally staring, thinking maybe I’m the carer and she’s the one with special needs. So funny. I nearly peed my pants!’

We laugh and laugh and I nearly miss Mum’s goodbye. I look up as she waves, and for a second, my bottom lip wobbles. I’ve never had a sleepover before.

‘Hey! You piked on the disco,’ Aimee says. ‘You’re coming to the next one, right? Kirsten, Kirsten, give Ava another flyer.’

Kirsten tucks a new one in with my documents, then asks us what we want to do on the weekend. ‘Still keen on bowling?’

I hardly hear Mum’s car drive off, I’m so caught up in the chatter, and before I know it, I seem to have agreed to bowling.

I’ve never been before, since Mum thinks the loud crashing of the ball against the pins would do my head in. And it probably would, except for Aimee being there.

Sheena and my carer, Kim, load the balls onto a special metal ramp – like a giant pinball ramp – that holds them at hip height. They wheel our chairs close and support our hands to help us send our balls hurtling down the lane.

I grin. Gravity can be helpful sometimes.

But my first ball heads straight for the gutter. ‘Gutter ball!’ says Aimee through her speech machine.

‘Babying the ball,’ she croons when my second dawdles down the laneway.

I don’t care. With Kim helping me push, I’m actually playing a game. Wait till I show Dad. Wait till I show Nic.

Next it’s Aimee’s turn. She wheels her chair up to the ramp and, with Sheena’s help, tap, down goes her ball. It glides down the middle of the lane and knocks over eight pins. ‘And that’s how I roll!’ she exclaims.

I don’t stop laughing all through our first game. We stop for a break before starting our second, and Kim and Sheena duck off to get us some water. It’s so good sitting with Aimee I hardly notice two boys arriving at the lane next to us.

‘Oh great,’ complains one of them. ‘We’re next to a bunch of retards.’

Don’t scream, don’t scream, don’t scream.

‘This coming from a guy who fell from the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down?’

It takes me a second to realise it’s Aimee talking. My mouth drops to the floor.

‘Fail,’ says the second guy.

‘No-one asked for your life story,’ says Aimee.

I wait, expecting the boys to say something mean in return. But Aimee’s smart comebacks have taken them by surprise. They start laughing. No-one expects a kid like Aimee to say stuff like that, and by the time Kim and Sheena have come back with our water, Aimee has them nearly doubled over.

‘Call us butter, cos we on a roll,’ says Aimee. ‘Bowlers never die; they just end up in the gutter.’

‘Ready for game two, girls?’ says Sheena.

Then it becomes a competition. The boys against us. Thanks to Aimee’s tips on how to angle the special ramp, my score jumps up impressively. Aimee and I are neck and neck with the boys. They’re really feeling the pressure. One ball each to go.

‘Come on, Ava,’ says Aimee. ‘Pinhead pride!’

Kim lines up my ramp. She helps me up to it and holds her hands over mine so I can reach out and push my ball. Not a tap this time. A hard push. The ball hurtles down the lane. It veers to the left. It’s going too fast, straight for the gutter. But then, at the last second, it hits a side pin, which smashes into the others.

‘You hit the messenger! Ava! You got a strike!’

My first strike.

Aimee and I win by two points. The boys slap our scrunched hands with stinging high fives. And afterwards, they don’t even wipe their hands on their shorts.

Aimee is the best friend ever.

‘Hey, Ava, want to come to the park? Want an ice-cream? How about a trip to the shops?’ Kieran’s collected me from Sam’s taxi today; Nic’s at band practice, and Mum’s taken Dad to a therapy session.

We’re sitting at the kitchen table, where Kieran’s testing out his latest efforts with his iPad. This time, instead of lots of small picture squares, he’s just made two. The green one says ‘yes’ and the red one says ‘no’.

‘Better, hey?’ Kieran reaches over to the fruit bowl and picks up an apple. ‘Let’s start with something easy. Ava, do you want an apple?’ he says slowly.

No, of course I don’t. I had an apple for lunch. This is afternoon tea and I’d like wafer biscuits, please.

I stare at the ‘no’ button.

Squish, clap, clasp.

Kieran waits.

The myna birds squawk from the grevillea bush; a bee buzzes against the glass.

I eventually force my clasping hands towards the iPad. I can’t pull them apart, so I close my eyes and jab my crooked fists towards the screen.

The iPad tips over. ‘NO!’ it says.

Banjo barks and wags his tail.

Kieran grins. ‘Great! Good job! You don’t want an apple!’

I smile and squish my hands together. My squishing gets extra fast while Kieran thinks about his next question. I hope it’ll be a good one.

‘Ava, do you want to play on Nic’s drums?’

Not what I was hoping for, but a turn on Nic’s drums isn’t a bad offer. Nic never lets me go near her drums. I reach out to press the ‘yes’ button, but my arm won’t stretch across properly, and I hear the loud ‘NO!’ of the iPad voice.

Kieran looks surprised. ‘No?’ he says, his eyebrows high. ‘I thought you’d like the drums. It’d be kind of like the sound you make with your hands, but louder.’

‘I would! I would!’ I want to shout. But instead a horrible scream escapes my lips.

‘Okay, no need to get cranky,’ soothes Kieran. ‘How about we look up those funny animal videos on YouTube again? Yes or no?’

I reach my clasped hands for the ‘yes’ button. I try more slowly, hoping maybe my aim will be better this time.

‘NO!’ shouts the iPad.

What?

I want the ‘yes’. The ‘YES’! I try to swipe at the iPad, but Kieran grabs it and holds it just within my reach. ‘Careful, Ava. Take a breath. Try again.’

Don’t scream, don’t scream, don’t scream.

But I do scream, and Kieran quickly shuts off the screen.

My heart sinks. There’ll be no YouTube watching. No talking. No nothing.

‘Sorry, Ava,’ says Kieran. ‘I thought I had it figured. I really thought I could help you talk. No biggie. I just need to work on it more.’

I stare at the blank screen. My head is heavy and my back slumps.

Don’t give up on me, Kieran.

‘Come on. Let’s have a feast instead,’ he says. He begins his routine of raiding our cupboards, and we’ve eaten all the Tiny Teddy biscuits, half a packet of Tim Tams and an entire block of cheese before Kieran notices the second disco invitation poking out from the papers wedged under our fruit bowl.

‘Whoa! A disco? Sweet.’ He pores over the invitation, smiling as he reads.

‘Special Needs Disco, 6 p.m., Friday 10th June. That’s tonight, Ava.’

Tonight?

‘The five-dollar entry fee includes one soft drink and one sausage in bread. All welcome. Awesome. You keen?’

Yes! Of course.

I grin at Kieran, hoping he’ll understand. I’d love to go and see Aimee and find out what sassy new comebacks she’s got.

But Mum hasn’t even mentioned the disco; she’s been so busy worrying about Dad. After all the excitement of having him home, it’s like a stranger is living with us. Dad’s quiet, and his eyelids only half-open when he stares vacantly at the wall. He’s still a long way from being better.

‘Why don’t I take you?’ says Kieran. ‘I’m sure your mum wouldn’t mind.’

Really?

I give him my very best smile, and luckily Kieran decides it’s a yes. ‘Sweet!’ he declares. ‘We’re going!’

Dad’s face is pale when he arrives home from therapy and Mum helps him straight to their room for a nap.

‘Poor bloke,’ she says when she gets back. ‘They worked him hard today.’ She reaches to fill the kettle when Kieran tells her about the disco.

Mum hesitates, the kettle still in her hand. ‘Sorry, Kieran. I don’t think Ava would like it. Loud music, bright lights? It just isn’t Ava’s thing.’

But I will like it. I’ll like it a lot.

‘She doesn’t seem to mind when I turn up the music,’ says Kieran. ‘What do you reckon, Ava?’ He gives me a giant wink. ‘Want to go to a disco?’

Yes, yes, yes!

It takes Kieran a while to persuade Mum that the disco’s a good idea, and even longer to reassure her that she doesn’t need to come. Luckily, Nic’s on our side. ‘Come on, Mum, Ava would love to go to a disco,’ she says. ‘But she can’t go dressed like that.’

I’m still wearing my red school shirt, with mooshed Tiny Teddy biscuit dribble on the collar.

‘And I can’t go like this!’ says Kieran, before heading off to get changed.

For my outfit, Mum suggests Nic lends me one of her old dresses. Nic sighs, but brings out a selection. She and Mum debate which dress I should wear – one’s too warm, another too cool; one’s too revealing and shows I’m wearing a nappy.

The clock’s ticking, but eventually they narrow it down to two. Nic holds up a pink dress and Mum holds up a purple. I want the pink one so badly my hands start squishing.

Pink, pink, pink!

Mum says purple; Nic says pink. Neither of them wants to give in, and I wonder if it’s really the dresses they’re fighting about.

Meanwhile, I’m staring at the pink.

Mum’s saying the purple won’t show my dribble as much.

Pink. Pink! PINK!

‘Ava wants the pink one,’ says Nic.

She holds the dress up under my chin. I smile.

‘See.’

Mum finally nods and the pink one it is. I want to hug Nic, but she’ll hate my dribble, so I cluck my tongue, trying to let her know I’m happy, while she tells Mum I should wear lip gloss and maybe some clips in my hair.

This is going to be the best night ever.

It gets even better when, at 5.30 p.m., Kieran comes in to collect me. His hair is gelled back and he’s wearing black skinny jeans and a lime-green buttoned-up shirt.

Nic does a double take. Even Mum looks surprised.

Wait till Aimee sees him!

‘Hey, Mrs Mills,’ Kieran says, doing a fake disco swagger.

Nic shakes her head at his outfit, but then slides her eyes to me. The dress is a little big for me, but it looks great with her old sparkly pink sneakers.

‘Wow!’ Kieran says when he sees me. ‘Awesome!’

My chest puffs with pride.

‘I’ve packed a bag with wipes,’ says Mum, ‘a bib, some biscuits, in case she doesn’t like the sausage, and a popper. Don’t forget the wheelchair! I’ll be here if you need me. Call me anytime.’

‘All good, Mrs Mills,’ says Kieran as he takes the bag and helps me to the door. ‘Ava and I have got this, haven’t we, Ava?’

You bet!