Chapter ThreeBy the time school finally let out, I had almost forgotten the incident in the shower room. Almost.
The tarmacked front of the school was swimming with kids, all eager to escape for the evening. Everyone from year 7 right up to the sixth form seemed to all have made a break for it at once.
I took a slow walk from the science block, in no hurry to get to the school buses that ran on a fifteen-minute rotation to pick everyone up and deposit them in the centre of London.
Maybe, if I took my time, I wouldn’t end up on the same bus as my little blonde nemesis.
I was just making my way past the fountain of our school mascot, Berty the Beaver, when I heard footsteps rushing up behind me.
“Hey, Bri!”
I didn’t need to look to know who it was. The chirpy little voice told me all I
