I feel panicky. 'But . . . what about us, Renée? What about our plan? That we would go somewhere where I could go to the uni, you could go to the poly, and we would be in the same city so we could live with each other and go away together?'

'I just don't think we should worry about what each other does. We should just do what we want,' she says, resiliently. I watch her stuff clothes and packets of crisps into her locker and then try to push the door shut with her shoulder. She doesn't seem at all fazed by what she has just said. I feel a tingling in my nose, which means I am going to cry. Please, no.

'You mean you don't want to go to uni with me, like we said?' I ask, my voice unnecessarily high pitched.

'No, I don't mean that. I just mean if it doesn't work out then we shouldn't let it stop us doing what we want to do. We can still see each other, go stay with each other, plan good weekends, that sort of thing. Just don't worry about it. You've been waiting to get off Guernsey most of your life - you can't
let my choices hold you back from going where you want to go,' Renée says, like the thought of us splitting up isn't hideously awful.

'Don't worry, I won't,' I say. Hurt, and with a nose full of that annoying runny snot that comes with tears. I manage to sniff it all back up, which sounds disgusting and makes me feel embarrassed. 'It doesn't matter.'

Renée grabs my arm and smiles. 'It really doesn't. We'll work it out. Come on, I'll walk you to your RS lesson. I've got Classical Civilisation. Because learning about gods from a billion years ago who probably didn't even exist is just what every girl needs to arm her against the challenges of the modern world!'

We walk together down the corridor. Renée talks about what she plans to have for lunch and she doesn't seem to notice that I say nothing at all.

I feel nervous, and like everything is about to change.