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her cigarette was already in her mouth and her hand was digging around in her cluttered pocket for her lighter. At least it had stopped snowing for now. Her feet were tingling and numbing in her wet Converse and the ground was slippery-damp under the smooth soles as she picked her way towards the corner of the wall. Her mum, as much as it hurt to admit it, had been right. They really weren’t the right shoes for this weather.
    ‘So I can’t even smoke in peace.’
    Becca looked up and her heart sank. So much for avoiding the Barbies for the rest of the day. Behind the slim Vogue cigarette, Hayley looked just as displeased to see her. She tilted her head back and blew out a stream of smoke as if she could blow Becca away with it.
    ‘I didn’t think running and smoking went well together.’
    Hayley shrugged. ‘They do if you run as well as me.’
    Becca lit her own cigarette. Her heart was racing nervously and she wasn’t sure why. It was only Hayley. She didn’t give a shit about Hayley. ‘Keeps you thin, I guess. I know how important that is to you.’
    Hayley cast a perfectly made-up eye over Becca. ‘It wasn’t me who used to be fat.’ She leaned back against the wall, her blonde hair floating out over her furred hood as she smoked, cool and casual. She was beautiful, Becca had to admit. Maybe even more beautiful than Natasha. Striking, her mum would call it. Elegant. Even last term, when she’d fallen down some stairs and had to wear a support on her arm for weeks until nearly Christmas, she’d made it look stylish. Becca tried to picture Hayley halfway up a tree, but instead only remembered how close they’d been back then. Suddenly she felt too tired to trade spiteful digs. What was the point? As soon as Natasha was better and out of hospital, Becca would be forgotten and they’d slink back to their opposite ends of the social spectrum.
    ‘You okay?’ she said eventually, hating how Hannah-like it made her sound. Submissive. Meek. A doormat.
    ‘Like you care?’ Hayley countered.
    Becca wasn’t sure she did, she just wanted to say something to fill the awkward silence. She drew hard on her cigarette, willing it to burn down more quickly. ‘I was only asking. No need to be a bitch.’
    Hayley glanced down at her boots. Uggs, of course. Becca could see the tag across the heel. Jenny’s style might be fake – Jenny’s mum, a single parent, had no money – but Hayley must have been wearing two hundred quid on her feet. She scuffed snow from the heel of one onto the toe of the other, dirtying it, as if flipping the finger to the cost. Becca could see where the damp was soaking through the outside. Despite the Uggs’ cost, Hayley’s feet were probably as cold as her own.
    ‘You heard from Tasha?’ Hayley asked, her eyes down. The words were snowflake-light, but Becca tensed.
    ‘Should I have?’
    ‘I’m only asking, Bex.’ Hayley mimicked Becca’s own response, but she sounded tired, the polish her smoking and make-up and designer clothes gave her slipping for a moment. ‘Whatever.’
    ‘No,’ Becca said. ‘I haven’t.’ She paused, her cigarette almost in her mouth, and looked at Hayley, the reason behind her question clicking into place. ‘Why? Haven’t you?’
    Hayley shrugged, non-committal, but the answer was there. A fat no. ‘I’m just worried about her, you know.’
    ‘Can’t you call her?’
    ‘Her phone’s wrecked. I tried her home number. Alison said she’d given Tasha her iPhone and got herself a cheap one that just does texts and calls. She said at last she had a phone she understands how to use.’ She half-smiled. ‘You know what she’s like with technology.’ Becca didn’t, really. The last time she’d been hanging around in the Howland home, phones and computers weren’t important. Building dens and playing pirates had taken up most of their time. ‘Anyway, I called it then sent a text but she hasn’t replied,’ Hayley finished.
    ‘Maybe she’s not