Knock knock knock...

"Hello? Leon? Remember me? Lyddie Loeman?" the voice was heavy with impatience and sarcasm. "We're supposed to be working on our sociology project!"

I flinch as I remember. I was supposed to meet her after school and take the bus to my house to work on our presentation about crime and punishment... oh, God. What kind of terrible friend am I? Lyddie has every right to be angry. I deserve it.

And trust me, you do not want to deal with an angry Lyddie.

"Lyddie..." I say carefully. "I can't do the project. Not right now. I'm sorry I ditched you... something came up. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please don't be mad."

Long silence. I brace myself.

More silence.

"Lyddie, please say something!"

"What's wrong with you, Leon. You've been grumpy all day, you didn't show up after school-"

"I said I was sorry!"

"-and your mum says you just ran up to your room as soon as you got home without saying anything!"

"Oh. Well. You should probably go downstairs and tell her sorry from me. And Lara too."

"Ha. Nice try, Leon." Her voice softens suddenly. "Look. Clearly something's wrong. So why don't you let me in and we'll talk about it, okay?"

I lunge for the door and lock the door as the handle starts turning. I hear an exasperated sigh from behind the door.

"For God's sake Leon! Just open the stupid door before I-"

"Sorry! Can't hear you!" I plug my headphones into my phone and jam them onto my head. I click on a random song in my playlist and turn up the volume as high as it will go. "I'm listening to really loud music!"

There's a short pause. Then my phone starts to ring, and a picture of Lyddie with Rover appears on my screen. With a guilty pang, I decline the call.

The pause this time is so long that I take my headphones off cautiously and listen. I can hear Lyddie's brain ticking through the wall. Then I hear her footsteps walk down the landing and down the stairs.

I flop back on my bed, hovering between relief and dread. Has she given up? I doubt it, somehow. If she has, it won't be for long.

Or will it? The minutes tick by. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Twenty-five...

A folded piece of A5 paper is pushed under the door.

Notes? Notes? I've ignored her knocking and calls, and she thinks I'm going to read notes? Just because she pushes them under the door?

Another note is pushed under.

Yeah, right. Good luck with that, Lyddie. All I have to do is ignore them. It's not that hard!

Another note. The three bits of notepaper lie there, taunting me. I wonder what they say...?

Just ignore them.

The notes keep coming. When she runs out of room, she slots them through the sides of the door, until they're scattered in front of the door like snowflakes. If snowflakes have messages, that is.

Would it be so bad to read them? Even if I do, it doesn't mean I have to let her in.

No. No no NO. Don't read them!

Just ignore them. Ignore them. Ignore...

It wouldn't hurt to look.

I leap off the bed, run towards the door and pick up the first bit of paper she pushed under the door.