Back in 1582, Pope Gregory XIII, in an effort to fix the Julian Calendar, straight up eliminated ten days from the year. When the clock struck midnight on the evening of October 4th, everyone jumped to the 15th of the month. Literally nothing happened between those two dates, which meant the people worried that their lives were being shortened by ten days were less on the ball than Harraby Athletic, an idiom Brian has been trying to make catch on for some time.

That period of timelessness is a lot like growing up in Anonymity. Nothing happens and it's a fairly forgettable experience. Though while days tend to bleed together, I'm relatively sure our lack of existence has lasted for more than ten days, considering I alone have had seventeen birthdays, each one less eventful than the last.

Of course, the phrase 'nothing lasts forever' clearly isn't meant to be taken literally, because one fine day in February, things started happening. Practically all of us were in Ms Eyre's maths class, with the exception of Vince. He had the right idea. I don't know why any of us bothered showing up. Ms Eyre has been teaching at Anonymity High for five decades and I don't think she's ever passed a single student. She also set designated seating so I couldn't even make out with Steve while she droned on about the angles of whatever equestrian triangles are.

But in order to split up the couples of the school, Mary and Steve were on one side of the room, which meant I was seated next to Joey. So while Ms Eyre talked to herself and wrote on the blackboard that was as old as she was, I tried to strike up a conversation with my closest friend.

'You think the grey hair brings out the deadness in her eyes?' I posturised.

Joey didn't respond. He had the tendency to go quiet when he wasn't amusing himself or others. It probably also had something to do with the latest warning he'd gotten about disrupting class. Joey had been to the principal's office more than any of us and it usually took him upwards of two days before he forgot about the lecture and went back to his quasi-charismatic self. Or it could be that I'd already spun that fun fact every maths period for two years and Joey was sick of flashing me a pity grin.

'You get your assignment back yet?'

Joey grunted, though whether it was at the question or the assignment, I wasn't sure. Ms Eyre had given us the unreasonable task of gathering data from a minimum of eighty people on their consumer habits. Some people had just posted the survey on the internet. Others copied and pasted the responses from the webpage one of the other students set up. I personally just made up the numbers and worked from there.

'Mary do your assignment for you?'

'No, that was a one-time thing. Apparently it's not fair to everyone else.' Joey gave me a look. I didn't understand what it meant so he motioned his fingers in an air quotes fashion.

'Mr Matthews figured out it was her and told her off, huh?'

'Yeah, not enough spelling errors.'

Somebody cleared their throat and we faced the direction the attempted teaching was coming from for the first time. Ms Eyre stood in front of Joey's desk, holding a sheet of paper with a red F written in the top corner. Joey's name was barely legible underneath all the negative markings. This was a tactic of Ms Eyre's. If a student was talking in class, she publicly shamed them, under the misguided notion that any of us cared about another student's grades.

'Joseph Taylor,' Ms Eyre said, with a shake of her mothballed hair. 'It was Emile Borel who first posturised-' (That's where I got that word from before. Sorry, I was wondering where I picked up such an ancient word) '-that a million monkeys sitting at a million typewriters could eventually churn out a given text. One monkey typing on a broken laptop for half an hour could submit a more coherent report than yours.'

'That's a roundabout way of saying it was too smart for you, right?' Joey smirked. See, I told you his true self was never too far away.

Our decrepit teacher scoffed. 'Is this your plan? Are you just going to continue to be a delinquent until I decide to pass you?'

'Call me an abacus because you can count on it,' Joey winked. This was the Joey I loved hanging out with. Unfortunately, I must have chuckled because Ms Eyre turned on me.

'Heather Muse.' She had a tendency to call us by our full names, either as a way to patronise us or a rope to stop herself falling into senility. 'Don't think I haven't noticed you encouraging him. Maybe if you spent more time paying attention, you wouldn't have been so careless with your target audience continuity.'

Ms Eyre started ranting on about something or other, and when I looked at Joey to give a mocking glance, I noticed he was staring across the room at his girlfriend. I followed his gaze. Mary was looking at him and shaking her head. You believe that? That's why I don't date smart people. They expect too much from you. At least that's what 100% of the nerds at our school were like. We don't really have any smart guys our age to base this statistic off, which is another minor thing that prevents me dating them. Okay, I'm starting to see Ms Eyre's point.

I looked back at Joey. The question of why he'd been restraining himself had an obvious answer now. His girlfriend was ashamed of him. He wanted to prove to her that he could take school seriously, even if that pretty much went against his entire personality. To be fair, he'd held out for at least five minutes before he started chatting to me, though I don't think he'd grasped any of the knowledge Ms Eyre had been throwing about.

I looked over at Steve. He hadn't noticed anything was going on. He was busy drawing something in his exercise book. I couldn't see it from where I was so I'll just use artistic license and say he was writing my initials over and over with love hearts interspersed. Yeah, I get that it was probably dicks, no need to leave that comment.

'Think she'll ever get any and leave us alone?' Joey remarked and I looked back to realise Ms Eyre was back at the front of the classroom and had stopped her mid-lecture lecture.

'I'm sure she'll make a gargoyle very miserable one day,' I responded. 'So what's with Mary?'

'If you're going to call me whipped again, I'm not going to talk about it,' Joey said.

'Okay.' I shrugged.

'She wants me to recognise my potential.' Joey didn't shy from using air quotes this time.

'Wa-tschhh!' I hissed, flipping my hand forward.

Ms Eyre twisted her head around 180 degrees to stare at us. It would be a lot like The Exorcist if her body hadn't twisted with it. She seemed to be waiting for an excuse.

'You're really whipping those triangles into shape, Miss,' Joey covered.

Ms Eyre glowered at him and turned back around. Meanwhile, Chelsea had spent the entire class painting her nails and chatting to Akala about herself, but the cheerleading chatterbox was something of a teacher's pet, possibly because she was the only one who ever came to class with a smile on her face. Even Mary always had a serious, ready-to-learn expression that nobody could take seriously. Joey had been guilty on several occasions of snorting at her game show-like responses to a teacher's questions. At that moment, though, he was too busy firing a paper wasp at Chelsea's neck.

Joey Taylor is unlike anyone I know. And I know over a dozen people. He's quiet when you first meet him, and he's a little awkward at the best of times, but once he knows you, he's a lot of fun, and a decent listener, provided you're not trying to teach him anything. I'd tell you the short story of our friendship, but then you're liable to judge me, so I'll tell the slightly longer story. Our friendship began as any other would. We met in first grade. That is the very short version, and in my opinion, the best of all. But it's not that simple. We bonded over a mutual hatred for blue crayons and have been inseparable ever since.

Two years ago, we almost simultaneously hit puberty. We both started talking about sex and I had the bright idea that we should practice on each other so that we at least knew what we were doing when we entered the dating world. We went to our usual cafe, the only one in town, for dinner, but instead of walking straight home, we stopped off at the park. It wasn't bad. Everyone always says that you never forget your first time. Well, I'll never forget the moment thirty minutes later.

When I dropped off Joey, my mother was waiting in the living room with his father. This was not unusual. Our parents were very good friends. However, their much better halves were not present in this instance. So they sat us down and my mother said that they wanted to let us know before we got too close that there was a one hundred percent chance that Joey might be my brother. This was a day I really needed to tell someone about, but the only therapist in town happened to be Joey's mother. With a small town like ours, you tend to expect there's incest somewhere. I just never thought I would be the perpetrator.

My dad left shortly after that. Like I said, it's a small town. Word spreads faster than herpes. It was an awkward goodbye. The movies like to tell you that it doesn't matter if you're the biological parent, but finding out your child isn't yours does make a difference. Look at me and Joey. The second I found out we were related, I didn't find the idea of him licking my breasts so arousing. As for me and Joey, we haven't mentioned either event since. There's an unspoken rule between us that as far as we're concerned we're friends that have never crossed that line, rather than half-siblings who rooted under a pine tree.

'Joseph Taylor,' Ms Eyre said for the fifth time that lesson, interrupting our game of coin footy.

'What? I haven't said anything for five minutes,' Joey said in exasperation as he flicked the twenty-cent coin past my left index finger. 'Dammit.'

'Care to answer the problem on the board?'

'Sure, in my experience, if you erase the numbers you wrote up there, the problem disappears on its own.'

'Heather Muse. Do you want to show the class how it's done?'

'Not particularly,' I replied, leaning down and picking up the coin.

'Fine. I'll see you both after school in detention.'

Of course, we didn't show up. The only thing we'd ever learned from Ms Eyre's class was that she forgot punishments very quickly. Even if she did turn up to meet us in the classroom, by the next morning, she would have forgotten we didn't return the favour.

Instead, after school, Joey got to be lectured by his girlfriend instead, and I got to lecture my boyfriend, wearing a professional pantsuit and seductive pose. While I loved history class because of its content, Steve loved it because of the messenger. It was no secret and I teased him about it constantly, but he'd had a crush on Miss Ferrero since she started at our school. She was Anonymity-born as well, and only a university degree older than us, so she actually managed to make history come alive, as opposed to Ms Eyre, who confirmed the stereotype that all accountants are depressed and she was going to ensure they stayed that way. Of course, Steve was more interested in something else springing to life in history class but I couldn't really blame him. Miss Ferrero is hot. That didn't mean I wasn't concerned when Steve slipped into daydream mode during that particular period, but fortunately Mr Matthews was the only faculty member desperate enough to go out of his age bracket for his extra-curricular activities, and Bree was the only student eager enough to actually go for anyone who grew up in a different millennium than her. Even Steve knew how to separate fantasy from reality, and I was happy to indulge his fantasy, especially if it meant showing off my knowledge of the Crimean War as part of our foreplay.

Of course, twenty minutes later, if I'm being generous, I was bored again and we had to find something else to do. That's when Steve had the bright idea to race Coke cans. Say what you will about Steve's borderline attention deficit disorder, his imagination comes in handy sometimes.

We went down to the creek. Here's all you need to know about the geography of our little town. We're not much bigger than five blocks long, with a few scarcely-filled shops, a school, a few streets of houses and the rare point of what passes for entertainment around here, but 90% of the town is situated on the barely-used highway. On one edge of town is the Runaway House. On the other edge is the two-metre bridge, signifying the start of the 80km/hr zone and the end of civilisation for a good stretch of road. To call it a bridge is giving it a little too much credit. It's the exact same highway, with a small railing on either side. Beneath that is the creek and that's where Steve and I brought our empty soft drink cans. The plan was to walk up to the edge of the creek, drop our litter on one end and let the current take them as far as they were willing to go. Whoever's can made it further was awarded bragging rights. It was something to do to kill time is what I'm saying.

'On your marks,' Steve said, lowering his can onto the water. I did likewise.

'Get set,' I said, loosening my grip on the can and feeling the water rush through my shins.

'Spoon,' Steve said quickly, and before I realised what he'd said I'd let go of the can. It sped forward. 'False start. I win,' Steve stuck his tongue out.

'That's mature,' I said. 'But I demand a rematch.'

'Bring your participant back to the starting line then,' Steve grinned.

I grumbled and walked down the bridge. The can had gotten caught behind a rock about sixty metres downstream, which probably meant I would have lost the first race anyway.

By the time the second race had started, I'd attempted to calculate a better starting angle but my mind isn't equipped for anything mathematically-inclined so I just moved one step closer to my opponent and hoped that would work. This time, I did the entire countdown and we both released at the same time.

'Go, Tin-tin!' Steve called, as we chased after them.

'You can do it, Can-I-have-too-much-self-respect-to-name!' I said and immediately lost faith in my player when it hit the exact same rock it had earlier. Tin-tin was granted a much bigger lead but fortunately Cihtmsrtn didn't get snagged this time and slowly started rolling around the rock and began ping-ponging between stones and reeds as it tried abysmally to catch up.

'There's no way you can win now,' Steve said. His can could be seen exiting the other side of the bridge while mine was still lagging behind the checkpoint. 'Yes, go you good tin!' Steve called. It was almost out of sight. We were jogging along the embankment and my heart leapt when I saw a figure on the other side of the bridge bend down and pick up the can. 'No!' Steve yelled as Cihtmsrtn picked up speed and with great courage plunged under the bridge. Tin-tin was disqualified because of human interaction. I could still win this thing.

'Yes!' I said as my ontestant exited the bridge unmolested. We ran across the highway with no regard for the lack of traffic and I raised my fist victoriously when Cihtmsrtn hobbled past the figure in the creek, who was still studying Tin-tin, and finally gave up, getting caught in the moss on the left side of the creek. It was enough. I'd won by three metres.

'What the hell was that?' Steve said, storming half-seriously to the figure. 'Did Heather pay you off? Oh, hey, CJ. What's up?' Steve and Callum slapped hands and clicked their fingers back.

'Twiggy. Fancy seeing you in this one-kilometre radius,' Callum greeted. 'Hey, Freckles,' he nodded as I joined them.

'You kind of ruined our game, man,' Steve said.

'Racing garbage, huh? Looks like tons of fun.'

'You actually kind of do get caught up in the moment,' I said. 'And thanks. Steve owes me a portrait now.'

'That was not part of the deal,' Steve scoffed, splashing me with water.

'I would have drawn a caricature of you,' I said, splashing him back.

'All of your sketches are stick figures with smiley faces.'

'I would have added you holding Tin-tin.'

'So just a rectangle at the edge of his stub?' Callum guessed correctly.

'What are you doing down here?' I asked.

'Not much to do in this town except judge Coke races apparently,' Callum shrugged. 'Actually I was just checking if it was deep enough for a swim.'

'It is,' I shrugged back. 'Provided you're a guppy.' Two households in Anonymity have a pet dog. My neighbour's farm has a cow, two chooks and a termite infestation. The rest of the town's animal population is made up of the several dozen tadpoles and guppies that resided in our little creek. The deepest the creek ever got was thigh-height and that was in the stinky section. I remember because at the age of twelve, I jumped in there as part of an escalating dare game with Joey. He had to wear a pair of our teacher's underpants on his head for an entire school day so I think we know who got the better deal.

'And I'm the immature one?' Steve chuckled after I'd spoken this tangent aloud.

I can't remember which one of us suggested it but for some reason we thought that since we were all together, we may as well start coming up with arguments for the debate the following day. None of us were particularly fond of schoolwork, but the three of us showing up at the same place seemed to trigger the thought that perhaps showing up to class with three weeks' worth of procrastinating under our belt would mean an extra year at school. Of course since none of us could remember the topic we'd been assigned, we had to trek to Callum's house and actually open up a book. I could swear moths flew out when we eventually cracked it open. Callum had scribbled down that we were arguing the merits of religious influence on schools. 'How are we supposed to come up with logical reasoning for that?' he muttered.

'We'll just have to come up with illogical reasoning,' Steve said. 'That's what the church does.' A little hypocritical from someone just as passionate about fantastical nonsense but I didn't come up with a good retort in time for it to be effective.

'How did we end up on this side of the argument?' I asked. 'Refresh my memory.'

Callum pointed fingers. 'Twiggy lost rock-paper-scissors to Jojo. Honestly who throws scissors three times in a row?'

'Nobody,' Steve shrugged. 'That's why I thought Joey wouldn't expect it.'

'Rock is the best, everyone knows that.'

'It doesn't beat paper.'

'In real life it would.'

Steve picked a stone out of Callum's fish tank. 'Let's throw this at the negative team then. That'll beat whatever they've written down.'

I felt it was my duty to interrupt before the idea gained traction. With me. Callum's the level-headed one. 'Okay, if we were debating whether rock-paper-scissors is the best way to settle disagreements, we'd be great.'

'True,' Steve said. 'Think it's too late to change our topic?'

'We could just wing it,' Callum said. 'Just come up with something tomorrow.'

'See, this is the problem when all the members of the team don't want to do the work,' I said. 'At least Joey's team has Mary.'

'And the easier side,' Steve said, playing with his phone.

'Okay, what are some good Christian values that could be instilled in the schools?' Callum said, opening his desk drawer and pulling out a pen.

'Well, they pledge tolerance and niceness even if they don't practise it themselves,' I said after a long pause.

'Yeah, but why should that give them the right to change the content, change the facts that we're supposed to be learning? It's contributing to the dumbing down of our youth,' Steve said.

'You just read that off your phone,' Callum said. As the only remotely religious person in the room, he was our best bet at coming up with our argument but as he'd said when the subject was first brought up 'just because I have nothing against God doesn't mean I want some old dudes with poor dress sense in ugly buildings passing off their beliefs as His.'

'Yeah, I was trying to find something to support our side. It's not going well.'

'You got anything to eat?' I asked.

This procrastination went on for a few hours and over a game of cards, we'd decided the wording of our mission statement was our friend. So in half an hour, we'd jotted down a few vague points of how Buddhism would influence schools in a positive way, through the seeking of knowledge about the world, other students and yourself, in a peaceful environment. We'd decided the less specific we were, the harder we'd be to rebut. It seemed to work for political debates. And it just happened to mean less research on our part, which was a nice bonus.

I got home at around ten. I grunted a greeting to Mum and booted up the family computer, logging into Facebook. It's a fairly meaningless website here. Okay, more so than where you are. Everyone in Anonymity knows everybody else and those of us who bothered creating an account all had a stagnant 13 friends, except maybe Brian with his teammates in Calen. Regardless, there had been no new status updates since I'd last logged in five days ago, so I closed the tab and moved on to the task at hand.

Hey dad, I typed. Haven't seen you in a while. You still mad about that whole 'not your real daughter' thing? Oh, did you see the new Marvel movie? I reckon it's their best yet, though I'm pretty sure Anonymity's about five instalments behind everyone else so no spoilers, okay? Or do you still hate superhero movies with a passion? Steve loves them. He's going pretty well. There's this new kid, Callum, who's come from the Big City. I think he's met more than a dozen people! Outsiders, huh? Are there many people where you are? They have internet connection, right? Because we were about the last house to get it in the world so I'm sure you've gotten my other messages. Anyway, any hint that you miss any of us at all would be appreciated. If I faked up a wedding invitation, would you visit to take me down the aisle? I don't really believe in marriage (God knows why) but better that than never hearing from my dad again, right? Maybe I could pull a Paches and bring you here to negotiate with no intention of letting you leave. Probably wouldn't work now that I've told you, huh? Oh, come quick, the house just caught fire and you're the only one who can put it out! I better run to the window and call for your help until you arrive.

Love, that girl you raised for 16 years and presumably grew some attachment to.

My dad's a hard guy to say no to. It must have done wonders for his dating life. So when he decided he was out of our lives, I went along with it for at least two months before the stubbornness I'd assumed forever I had inherited from him kicked in and ever since I've sent a monthly report. It wasn't the most proactive approach but I have a lack of contacts and resources with which to track him down. Besides, I doubt showing up at his workplace and causing a scene would mend the severed link between us.

'Have you been down here all night?' a familiar voice buzzed. I opened my eyes to find I'd fallen asleep on the keyboard, playing a computer game again. I sat up and looked at my mother who was standing over me with a cup of coffee.

'Thanks,' I muttered, reaching for the mug.

'Get your own,' Mum said, taking a sip. 'School starts in twenty minutes.' This wasn't as threatening as it is in every other town considering everything in Anonymity was five minutes from everywhere else, deeming buses, cars and horses unnecessary.

I even had time to buy a snack for breakfast. I walked into Fowlers' Market, conveniently located across the street from Fowlers' Petrol Station & Car Repair and next door to Fowlers' Butchery. In case I haven't spelled it out enough, the Fowlers own practically everything in town. In fact, the only business their grasp doesn't reach is The Drive Inn, a motel that Steve's parents run, at what I can only imagine is a crippling loss.

I settled on a croissant and had finished eating it several steps out of the store. I shifted my backpack onto my other shoulder and finished the treacherous trek to the schoolyard. I put my metaphorical debate cap on and walked into my first class. The others were already set up. Six chairs were at the front of the classroom occupied by Steve and Callum on the left side and Joey, Mary and Lisa on the right. Lisa had been given to their team by default. Akala, as expected, had immediately teamed up with Chelsea in the capital punishment debate. Vince, Bree and Brian had bonded over saying 'kill the fuckers' simultaneously, though the former didn't bother showing up for the event so it ended up being an even-sided debate, even if no coherent point was put forth on either side.

Having written that, our debate wasn't much better. It was well known by now that whichever team had Mary would win, but given Joey's penchant for mocking any presentation he was part of, I was hoping it would even out.

Mary started strong, stating that as the only family who went to church every Sunday, the Fowlers were the most likely to want Christianity in our schools but even she was against educating belief as knowledge.

I got up and said I didn't know what Mary was talking about but Buddhist values would make a fine addition to raising youth as upstanding individuals.

After a few seconds, Joey realised it was his turn and replied 'fair enough.' After a glare from Mary, he cleared his throat and leapt up, pointing his finger menacingly at us. 'I mean, that's an outrageous suggestion!' He flipped through his notes, shrugged and started talking about Christianity again, evidently the only topic they'd jotted down. He read them in a loud voice, pounding his fist into his palm intermittently, at first to emphasise a point and then just because he'd gotten into the rhythm of it.

Steve, who I could tell had drifted off and heard none of what anybody had said so far, went completely off-topic and started saying it was weird how dragons could drink water without extinguishing their firepower and it would make more sense if they drank gasoline or other flammable liquids, unless that was suicidal. After listing the pros and cons of exploding dragons, settling on the decision 'it would be cool either way', he managed to bring it back quite strongly with 'Now that would be a ridiculous thing to teach at school. But I think you'll agree that encouraging peace and self-esteem and other Buddhist principles is pretty tame in comparison.'

Lisa had to follow this argument and she stammered quite a bit before reading directly from the page in front of her without looking up. It was hard to tell from the fast pace of her speaking, but the argument seemed to be saying that church is for praying and school is for learning.

Callum brought the whole thing home in ten seconds. 'The mind is everything. What you think, you become. Buddha encourages us to learn. If you don't want school to encourage us to learn, by all means, side with the ignorant team who won't even dignify five minutes of talking about dragons with a defence. I rest my case.'

Four-fifths of our audience clapped our teams as we picked up the chairs and took them back to our empty desks. Mr Jennings, on the other hand, rubbed his forehead. I thought he might award us the win because his son was on our team, but after a pause, he put his pen down. 'You both lose.'

'So it's a draw. Nice!' I high-fived Joey.

'This is English class.'

'And we presented our arguments in English,' Joey said. His girlfriend was not impressed with her first debate loss and was busy crossing out the notes they'd been reading from.

'Which should have meant I'd be able to understand them.' Mr Jennings was the only teacher who wasn't fazed by Joey's remarks. He encouraged class interaction, and if Joey became too much of a smartass, he would just stop paying attention. This was better than our old English teacher who wouldn't take his eyes off Bree for the entire lecture. 'That was utter nonsense. You were arguing at least two different topics, when you were on topic at all, and thus there was no semblance of rebuttal whatsoever. While I'm sure that was the intent of the anti-separatism team, neither team raised or refuted any valid points.'

'Excuse me, sir,' Mary said.

'Yes, Mary, I'm sure you wrote everyone's points for them but your own bias stopped you from considering your opponents' interpretation of the topic. You introduced a topic that nobody was debating. Joey read what you wrote and Lisa read what you wrote but while one of them was more enthusiastic about it than the other, those were speeches. Debate is give and take. Nobody took what anyone else was giving. I don't know what Steve was talking about but it wasn't proving anybody wrong or right. It was a clever idea to argue in favour of a different religion but the execution was sloppy and clearly unprepared.'

'Like Joseph Samuel's,' I nodded.

'I had a Buddha quote,' Callum pointed out.

'My mistake. Five seconds of Googling certainly justifies a win. Ds all around.'

'Sir,' Mary said indignantly.

'Relax, Ms Fowler. You're still the smartest person in the room. You just have to think outside the box next time.'

Joey patted Mary's hand.

'No physical contact in the classroom,' Mr Jennings said, moving his chair back to the front of the classroom. Joey responded to this by kissing Mary, who squirmed out and sat down at her desk.

It wasn't until after the class that anything out of the ordinary happened. I presumed I was the last one to leave the classroom. It didn't take me long to pack my bag, I just wasn't exactly in a hurry to attend maths class. But as I made it to the door, something tapped me on the shoulder. I spun around to see Lisa. She looked shorter than usual, like a timid animal or the Anglo-Zanzibar War.

Before I could ask how she'd reached my shoulder from all the way down there, Lisa blurted out, 'You're good friends with Callum. I was wondering if you could put in a good word for me.'

I was surprised. I'd known Lisa for years and we'd never spoken more than two words to each other. We didn't hate each other. We just hung out in different crowds. I'd made friends with Callum in little under a week so I didn't see how a ten-year acquaintanceship with Lisa would prompt her to ask me a favour. Unless she really liked him. 'Sure, I can do that,' I said, glad of the excuse to postpone maths class for a few extra seconds.

'Oh, thank-you!' Lisa threw her arms around my waist but fortunately I managed to squirm out of it.

'Okay, never do that again,' I advised.

But Lisa was back to blabbing again. 'I had to hide my face the whole debate. I was blushing whenever he looked at me.'

'I hadn't noticed.'

'Yeah, right,' she scoffed. I really hadn't. Lisa's not the kind of person you notice. I'd completely forgotten she was even in the debate until it was her turn to speak. Perhaps she had been hiding her face behind her notes but if I hadn't noticed, I doubt Callum had.

'Commiserations on the debate,' I said.

'You too,' she said, and with that, we walked awkwardly to maths class in silence. I have to say, I'm not much for girl talk. I like guys, don't get me wrong, but talking about them always seemed repetitive and boring to me, unless they played a big part in shaping history as we know it, and in that case, they're probably a little too dead to gossip about. Of course, this means I'm not particularly good at the forced setups. I'm barely experienced in flirting on my own behalf, let alone someone else's. Chelsea was the expert in girl talk, but with Akala being territorial and not leaving her side for a moment, I can see why Lisa chose to avoid breaching the subject with an audience. Add to that, the fact that 'Lisa likes CJ' would have spread through the town before Chelsea even thought about following through on the setup. Bree can get any guy she wants, but Lisa was probably rightly concerned that Bree would just use the favour as an excuse to talk to Callum and then forget about Lisa completely. And with her sister thinking everything through intellectually rather than personally, I guess that did leave me as the appropriate confidante for talking about crushes, even though I probably cared about it the least.

So those were the thoughts that occupied me during Ms Eyre's lengthy iteration of Pythagoras' Theorem. Once the 'why come to me?' question was answered, I had to focus on 'how go to Callum?' It felt weird. It was like I was arranging a marriage except instead of my children, it was two kids I barely knew. I finally decided on using an intermediary.

'Steve, ask Callum out,' I said as we bolted out of the classroom before Ms Eyre could remember to hand out homework assignments.

'Not really my type,' Steve said.

'Predictable,' Joey cut in. 'You could have at least gone with a "But I don't know where he's been" or "not for less than fifty dollars".'

'I'll remember that when you're teaching clown college,' Steve retorted.

'See, that's better. Where were those rebuttal skills during the debate?' Joey put his arm around Mary and led them to one of the three lunch tables.

'You might not want to remind me of that performance,' Mary was saying as their voices faded away.

'Lisa wants to play his flute,' I clarified.

'Huh. Our little Gardener's growing. What do I say?'

'I don't know. That's why I came to you in the first place. How did you get me?'

'I asked you to cover my shift at The Drive Inn and you thought it was a euphemism.'

'Right. That probably won't work. Let me know when it's done so I can take the credit,' I patted Steve on the shoulder and headed to the toilet. That was the extent of my problem solving skills. Yet somehow it was the beginning of my surreal stint as student confidante.