Tommy's half hanging out of the window as he drives round the corner. I can hear a bass drum. I see Zia in the passenger seat. What the hell? I contemplate just turning round and walking back on to campus, but it's too late, the girls have already clocked him.

He spins the car round and pulls up so Zia's right next to us. He turns the music down. New stereo. Looks expensive.

"Yes, Lukey," says Zia, holding out his fist. We bump.

"Afternoon, ladies!" Tommy's leaning across him, he's eating something out of a Greggs bag and there's pastry crumbs on his cheeks. "What you saying?"

Words get stuck in my throat as I play head tennis between my oldest friends and the girl I've been kissing. Zia sees me struggling. "We came to give you a lift."

"What do you ... how come you're not at work?"

Tommy bites into his food. "It's Friday. I finish early."

Zia nods. "And my shifts have switched. I told you, remember?"

Tommy grins. "We haven't seen ya, man! Check out the system!"

Zia pushes him off. "You should answer your phone more. Who're your friends?"

I turn to the girls.

"I'm Michelle," says Michelle, holding up a hand before I can open my mouth.

"Hi." Zia's playing it well cool. He looks at Michelle.

Megan's checking out the car. Michelle speaks for her. "That's Megan."

Zia doesn't even look. "I'm Zia. It's nice to meet you, Michelle."

"I'm Leia." Leia holds her hand out. Zia shakes it, smiling.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Leia." The pair of them look at me.

"You're not Chinese," Tommy blurts out. Enough.

"OK," I say. "Let's go then. See you later." I reach to open Zia's door.

"Is this your car?" says Megan out of nowhere. She's looking at Tommy through the windscreen. Tommy smiles a nod, his cheeks full of pastry. Don't do it, Tom. Don't ask them.

"You girls wanna lift?"

My earliest memory is snow.

It's Nan's back garden. I'm sitting in deep snow in a purple jumpsuit, watching Dad slowly stomp through the white to the back shed in his big sheepskin coat. He is a yeti.

Every sound seems dulled, like the air is muffled and there's some low musical score playing. Something with strings.

Dad wrestles the shed door and disappears inside. I look up at the dirty white sky and feel the delicate flakes touch my cheeks and dissolve.

Dad emerges, holding a shovel above his head like he's ready for battle. He strides back towards me, getting bigger with each step, until he's towering over me. He smiles.

I look down, and realise I'm actually sitting in one of his footprints.

INT. CAR DAY Condensation on the inside of car window. One drop of water runs down faster than the rest.

"You must never doubt the Dark Horse!"

Tommy bangs both hands on the steering wheel as we drive back towards town. The car still smells like girls and the windows are half steamed up from the body heat. We dropped them home one by one. Michelle and Megan both live within walking distance of Leia and I've now seen Simeon's house. It's as big as I thought.

"Shut up, Tom." I'm in the back behind Zia, happy to be able to finally stretch my legs. Four of us crammed into the back wasn't even legal, but Leia on my lap for twenty minutes wasn't exactly horrible and, to be honest, the whole journey wasn't that bad. Why would it be?

Feels weird being the one in the back.

"Man just walks through college with a string of girls on his arm like flippin' what's his face, the old porno guy, with the smoking jacket."

"I said shut up, yeah?"

"Hugh Heffner," says Zia.

"That's him!" Tommy points at me in the rear-view mirror. "Hugh Heffberg!"

"Heffner," says Zia. "Playboy. And it's not a porno, it's a magazine. They used to have all the best comedians and journalists write articles. My cousin used to get it."

"Yeah, for the tits," laughs Tommy.

Zia stares out of the window. "You're a caveman."

"Well, I didn't hear you crack any jokes to them, Mr Funny. Captive audience and you flopped it."

The rain's heavier now and there's a mist around the tall buildings of town.

"So, Lukey, what time we gonna get there?" says Zia. He's holding up the flyer Michelle gave him. I grab it.

It's the size of a postcard. Quality paper. There's a detailed drawing of a skeleton done in fine black pen; it's really good.

I flip it over and read: Why didn't she tell me?

Because she doesn't want you there.

"Don't think I'm up for it, to be honest," I say.

"What?" Tommy turns back. "Are you kidding?"

We drive into the underpass and everything turns artificial light.

"Watch the road, man! I'm just ... not that fussed. And it's fancy dress."

"I don't care if it's a 'wear-a-man-nappy' theme, we're going, Luke. You see how that girl was on me?"

"Her name was Megan, Tom. Can't we just hang out? I haven't seen yous much, have I?"

"Oh, now he cares," says Zia sarcastically. "I reckon Mr Dark Horse just wants to keep all the fun to himself, eh, Tom?"

I watch him draw an 'M' in the condensation on the glass next to his face.

"Yeah, stop being selfish, Lukey. We will be hanging out. With girls. She was fit. I mean, the shaved head thing's a bit weird, but still, I would. Is she your girlfriend now then, Leia?"

"No. What you talking about?"

The pair of them look at each other and exchange a smile, as if I can't see them.

We drive past the hospital, and I know I'm being tight, but she didn't tell me. Why didn't she tell me?

When Megan brought it up and Tommy and Zia got excited about it, Leia seemed pleased. I don't get it. Maybe she thought I'd think it was lame? Why would she think that? Because it is lame.

A party? With Leia? Dressed up? With these two there? Tommy and Zia with Simeon and them?

The two sides aren't supposed to mix.

"Come on," says Zia. "I can be out of work by eight. If you come get me, we can be there by half past. How long since we went to a party?"

"We should get the bus, so we can bring booze," says Tommy.

"I'm not drinking, man."

"I know you're not, that doesn't mean me and Lukey can't, eh, Luke? I could get Jamie to buy us something, swig it on the bus. What bus is it anyway?"

"We're not getting any drinks, Tom." The thought of him pissed up, mingling with the college lot, makes my gut turn. "And it's two buses."

Zia turns his head back. "So you're not in any actual lessons with Michelle?"

"No."

"Shame."

"Fine. They'll have drinks there anyways, eh, them posh kids?" says Tommy, clearly hyped. "I've never done fancy dress. I'm gonna be a zombie. What you gonna be, Lukey?"

"We're not going."

Zia reaches back and snatches the flyer. "Fine. You don't have to. I seem to remember them inviting us, Luke. We don't need a moody chaperone, right, Thomas?"

Tommy nods. "Right. But if Mr Moody Bollocks doesn't want us telling all his new posh mates embarrassing stuff about him, like the time he pissed himself on the coach to Drayton Manor, he might want to come along."

I stare out at the wet street. They both wait for me to say something. I don't. I'm beaten.

"Sorted then," smiles Tommy. "I'll come knock for you 'bout seven, you can help me do my zombie, then we walk down and get him from the supermarket."

He holds out his hand for Zia to slap. Zia slaps it. And that's that. The Venn diagram of my life. The circle of college meets the circle of home, at the intersection of a fancy-dress house party. It'll be fine. It will. I mean, how bad could it be?

The Brothers Different.

Opening Scene. Idea 1.

Blinking cursor.

I just stare at the empty word document.

So far the only decision I've made is to write the title in courier font.

It's as close as I'm ever gonna get to an actual typewriter. Old school.

I know I want to write the scene that sends Marc to prison. I know I've imagined what he did to Craig a million times, but my hands won't type it. Maybe I should write in my notebook first.

It's half ten. Mum's at work. Marc's out. I told Leia I'd send my scene over before I went to sleep. Might be a late one.

I drop down and start some press-ups to help me think.

The man is down.

Nine. Ten. Eleven.

Leave it! He's done.

Don't.

Pump faster. Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one.

You weren't there.

My shoulders burn. Triceps on fire.

Teeth bared. Girl's voice screams.

I stop on the up. It's not your story to tell.

Elbows lock, hands pushing down into the floor, through the floor, trying to push the whole house down into the earth.

Then an engine growls outside and I freeze, ears pricked.

No music. Door opens. Craig Miller?

I go to my window, my arms hot and tight.

Marc's getting out of Jamie's car. Breathe out. Stupid.

He's holding a white carrier bag. They say bye and Marc swings the door shut. I duck back just before he looks up. My laptop pings with a new email alert. It's Leia. She's sent her scene.

I hear the front door as I sit back on my bed and open the attachment.