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don’t want to go to town is that I don’t want to see any boys from school. Ever since the day of the basketball disaster, a group of them have been waiting for me on the way home.
    It’s not like they really do anything to me. Nothing that I could tell Mum or a teacher about. I’d sound completely ridiculous making a fuss about a few rude words and horrid looks. And anyway I’ve got Alex. She was walking home behind me last week
and saw what was going on. She was totally brilliant – telling them exactly what she’d do to them if they gave me any more grief – and Alex in full-blown battle mode is pretty terrifying.
    So as long as she’s around I know I’m safe. But, if it’s just me and Hannah and we bump into them, I don’t think they’ll leave me alone. It’s like the basketball match made people notice me – and not in a good way. I liked it before, when nobody really knew I was even there.
    I’m sitting at the kitchen table and wondering if I’m bored enough to join Mum in doing the chores. She’s finished the vacuuming and has moved on to cleaning the work surfaces, and I’m just about to offer to help when Alex and Finn tumble through the back door.
    ‘It’s freezing out there,’ says Alex, shivering dramatically before pulling off her scarf and throwing it on to the table.
    ‘I did tell you to wear a coat,’ Mum tuts, but it’s a conversation they’ve had a million times and she knows that nothing she can say will make Alex listen. I don’t understand it: being cold is horrible and I don’t really see what the problem is with wearing a coat. It’s not like it’s a fashion crime, surely? Alex won’t wear a coat ever, even on a
freezing January day like today. It doesn’t stop her moaning about being cold though.
    I don’t actually know how Finn puts up with her. We all love Finn and I think he loves us back, although he loves Alex the most. He virtually lives in our house some days, which is fine with me because Finn is fantastic. He lives across the road and his mum is friends with our mum and they’ve known each other since Finn and Alex were babies. Mum has got photos of them lying next to each other on a rug in our garden. Sometimes Finn comes over because band practice is at our house and sometimes he comes over for no reason, just because he feels like it. He and Alex spend most of their time together. I think he must be very patient to cope with all her drama.
    ‘Anyway,’ continues Alex, as if Mum hasn’t spoken, ‘we’re planning on a musical afternoon, complete with the
West Side Story
DVD and serious amounts of popcorn. Is it OK if we have the living room, Mum?’
    Mum nods and squirts the cooker with cleaning spray.
    ‘Sounds fun! I might join you when I’ve finished these jobs. Granny and Grandpa should be here soon as well.’
    ‘Didn’t you tell me your grandpa used to do a lot of singing when he was younger?’ Finn asks Alex.
    ‘Yeah,’ says Alex. ‘He was always singing when I was little.’
    ‘He used to sing in local amateur dramatics performances,’ says Mum. ‘I loved seeing him up there on stage – everyone always said how handsome he was and when he started singing the room would go silent. He was quite something in those days.’
    ‘Why doesn’t he sing any more?’ I ask her. I know that Grandpa still loves music because I play my violin for him all the time, but I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him sing.
    ‘Oh, I don’t think he can remember the words to the songs any more,’ Mum tells me, a sad look passing over her face for a second. ‘I’m not sure he even remembers that he used to sing.’
    Alex grabs a large bowl from the cupboard and puts it on the table. Finn pulls two big bags of popcorn out of a carrier that he’s been holding and fills the bowl, right to the brim. The sweet smell of popcorn hits me and I wish, for the thousandth time, that I was seventeen and not twelve.
    ‘Come on, Izzy.’
    I look up, so busy feeling