It took more than a week for Zoe to get over the chickenpox. The spots were terrible – itchy and sore, and she even had some up her nose!

At last they dried up, though, and she could go back to school.

She’d been away for so long, Zoe felt like she was the new girl. Her face was covered in little scabs and she didn’t know what had been going on while she was away. Maybe no-one was into elastics anymore, and she’d look like a loser for wanting to play.

When she arrived at school she saw Iris standing around chatting with Isabelle. Isabelle had her diary out and they were reading through something together.

‘Hi,’ Zoe called, shifting her backpack.

For a tiny fraction of a second, before saying hello, Iris looked at Isabelle, as if she were checking what she should do. It happened so fast, Zoe almost didn’t see it.

Almost.

‘Hi, Zoe,’ Iris said, carefully.

‘Yeah, hi,’ said Isabelle, looking at her watch.

Iris looked uncomfortable.

Finally she said, ‘Um, we’re just finishing this table before the bell rings. I’ll talk to you later, OK?’

Zoe didn’t know what to do. She stood there, feeling every single scab on her face. She was sure that everyone else in the playground was staring at her. She was so embarrassed. She wished she could laugh and pretend it didn’t matter, but it did.

It hurt.

Zoe went to the toilets and looked at her face in the mirror. It must be the chickenpox, she thought. Probably nobody wanted to play with a spotty, scabby girl.

She heard voices behind her, and Ching Ching and Olivia came in. Quickly, Zoe started washing her hands, as though she had just been to the toilet.

‘Hi, Zoe,’ said Ching Ching. ‘I didn’t know you were back today.’

‘Um, hi,’ said Zoe. She wondered if Ching Ching and Olivia could tell how upset she was, and if they had seen what happened on the playground.

‘Hey, you have to talk to Isabelle,’ said Olivia. ‘She’s organised a skipping contest at lunchtime, with proper scores and semis and a grand final and everything. You have to enter!’

‘Oh,’ said Zoe. ‘I don’t have a skipping rope.’

‘No problem,’ said Ching Ching. ‘You can borrow mine.’

‘The bell!’ said Olivia. ‘We’d better hurry. Mr Mack went mental when we were late for class yesterday.’