Zoe wanted to cry, or better still, to disappear forever. But the bell had rung and Mr Mack was waiting in the hallway to lock the classroom door behind them.

Zoe got her playlunch out of her bag and somehow managed to walk out to the playground without bursting into tears. She saw Iris by herself, peeling a mandarin beside the bin.

Now’s my chance, she thought. I’ll go and ask Iris if I’ve done something wrong.

She hurried over and said in a quiet, uncertain voice, ‘Hi, Iris.’

‘Oh, Zoe,’ said Iris, smiling. ‘How are you? I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day.’

‘Have you?’ said Zoe, feeling relieved. ‘I thought nobody liked me anymore.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Iris. ‘That’s not true.’

‘What’s not true?’

Iris and Zoe spun around to see Isabelle standing there.

‘Nothing,’ said Zoe. ‘I was just talking to Iris.’

‘Well, Iris can’t stand around talking,’ said Isabelle in a bossy voice. ‘She needs to come with me and help judge round two of the contest.’

‘But Zoe can come and watch, can’t she?’ asked Iris.

Isabelle looked at Zoe thoughtfully.

‘I don’t want to sound mean or anything,’ she said. ‘But your scabs are kind of icky. Maybe you could go and play with someone else instead.’

Zoe was so shocked she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Nobody had ever said anything so cruel to her in her life.

She was still standing there when Isabelle turned and began to walk away.

‘Come on, Iris,’ said Isabelle. ‘We won’t get through round two if we don’t hurry up. We can’t keep wasting time like this.’

Iris looked as shocked as Zoe felt. Iris was about to say something when Isabelle called out loudly, ‘Iris!’

Iris gave Zoe a sad, guilty look, and turned to follow Isabelle.

This must be a nightmare, thought Zoe. This can’t be real. This is my school. These are my friends. Why am I the one being left out?

She saw the other girls lined up for the competition. Some of them had skipping ropes, others had paper for writing down the scores. They looked so far away, like they were all part of another world.

Zoe knew that she couldn’t go over now – she didn’t even know if she wanted to anymore. And Isabelle had made it quite clear that she wasn’t welcome.

Zoe didn’t know what to do, but she didn’t want to stand there on her own.

She knew the boys would let her play with them if she asked. They were running around with a football, yelling and cheering. It would take a lot of energy to join in their game, though, and Zoe didn’t have any energy now. It felt like Isabelle’s nasty comments had drained all the life out of her.

‘Hello there, Zoe,’ said Mrs Delano, walking by on playground duty. ‘First day back since the chickenpox, isn’t it?’

Zoe nodded.

‘You still look a bit peaky, actually. Do you feel all right?’

No, I don’t, thought Zoe. I feel terrible!

She didn’t say anything, though. She thought she might cry if she tried to speak. Instead, she shook her head.

‘Why don’t I take you to the sick bay?’ said Mrs Delano, kindly. ‘You can have a little lie down until you feel better.’