Returning to school is the same as always. Excitable girls race in and out, squealing and comparing suntans and holiday homes in the South of France, Costa Del Sol or the Algarve. Usually, I feel envious, because my parents' idea of a family holiday is a week in the West of Ireland. This year we didn't even do that, but it was the best summer of my life. 

Between my friends, Tully, and soon-to-be-famous band, Black Death, it was everything a teenager could dream of. I have to remind myself it's not all over, not really. Even though I won't be seeing as much of them now I'm back at school, they are still part of my life. If there's one thing I've learned over the summer, it's that change is not always a bad thing.

"There you are Kit," Liz Quinn shouts over at me. "Good news, we're all in the same dorm again."

Felice, because she was a new girl last year, was never actually in my dorm. We tried to change that, but they don't let you swap around during term, so we'd begged to be together this year. When Felice decided not to board I wasn't sure where I'd end up and it's a mixed blessing to find myself back in my old dorm.

I follow Liz into the six-bed room, pretending I don't notice the shiny badge, pinned prominently to the lapel of her jacket. It isn't a surprise Liz is a prefect. With her boundless enthusiasm and the way she always gets involved in everything, she's an obvious choice. To be fair, if our parents hadn't tried so hard to foist us together down through the years, I might even have liked her myself.

At lunch time on Monday, I finally find Felice in the canteen and we immediately start comparing timetables. My subjects are the same as last year. English, Irish, maths and French are more or less compulsory. Then I've picked history because I like it, biology because you need a science subject for most university courses, and art. As I thought, the only class Felice and I have together is art, which is why I chose it.

"Enough of this," she shoves the timetable in her bag. "I'm meeting Len tonight."

"Lucky you!"

If only I could meet Tully as easily, but I'll be trapped in prep tonight. Even though we have hardly any homework yet, the staff don't care about that. Homework or not, prep is mandatory in boarding school.

The three hours of supervised study after the evening meal seem interminable, and all I can think about is Felice on a hot date with her Black Death drummer boyfriend. This is why my parents didn't want me to share a house with her, but it doesn't make it any easier.

With a text book open purely for show, I twiddle my pen and frown at the blank page in front of me. The summer memories feel fragile, like they could fade away and be forgotten. I'm terrified of losing them so I spend the rest of prep writing them down. And as the words pour out of me, it all comes back to me vividly.

The first time I met Tully, the only thing on my mind was choosing the right video to welcome Felice home. I barely even noticed the new guy trying too hard to be helpful, and his enthusiasm grated on my nerves. Now I find myself missing that energy and eagerness so much.

On Tuesday, I've art first thing. The art room is in a separate building, along with the music rooms and it feels different, like it's not really part of school, with its smell of creativity, a unique concoction of paint, clay and white spirits. Even the windows have a different view, facing away from the main buildings and out over a private part of the grounds.

But there's no sign of Felice as I look around, across the wide worktables, towards the shelves at the back, stacked with reams of paper and portfolios, past the big cupboard full of fresh supplies of paint, pastels and printing inks. The new teacher comes in and my heart drops. I know what's happened. Felice has been kept on by the regular art teacher, who loves her and thinks she's brilliant, while I've been sent to the newbie, a young woman straight out of college. Her enthusiastic smile is a dead give-away.

I won't see Felice at all this year. We're not in the same art group and it's the only class we shared. At lunchtime, there's no sign of Felice in the canteen. Liz Quinn waves at me from a table in the corner. Unlike me, she has several classes with my best friend. I take the empty seat opposite her. "Have you seen Felice?"

"She's not in today."

"Oh!" I mean I'm not amazed she's skipping school. I figured it would happen, just not in the first week, not on the second day back. But when there's no sign of her on Wednesday, I'm worried enough to try ringing her from the payphone in the sixth year lobby after class. There are only two phones and there is always a long queue, but nobody ever cares once it's their turn. We're all guilty of blissfully hogging the phone we've waited so long for. But, when my turn eventually comes and the phone rings out for the third time, I accept defeat. This is Felice, I remind myself. She's probably out with Len or Spike, or both.

Liz Quinn is the next girl in line. I hesitate before dialling the number for 'More Video 4U'. There are lots of reasons to hate making calls here, the long wait, the way you never have enough change, or the right change, and, worst of all, the person behind you hears everything.

Tully answers on the second ring. "Wow, Kit, is that you?" He doesn't try to hide how happy he is to hear from me. We barely have time to confirm plans for the weekend before the payphone gobbles up my small pile of coins.

"Can't wait to see you!" His words send a flush of warmth through me as the line goes dead.

"Oh, found a boyfriend over the summer?" Liz's smile is friendly, making it hard to tell whether she intends to be patronising. Either way, her tone annoys me and I shove the phone at her.

On Thursday, I finally spy Felice in the canteen. She sits huddled alone at a table, no tray of food in front of her.

"Hey," I say.

"Thought you'd never show up," she replies. "Let's get out of here."

Her words warm me, she's still here, still my friend. It's irrational, but I'm always afraid of losing her, of being left behind. We're not supposed to leave the grounds at lunch time, but without thinking twice, I follow her out of the canteen and let her lead me through the main gates.

 We make our way across the road to the small park on the opposite side. There's a river further down and a path that runs along it. We take the path until we're out of sight of the school buildings, and then we sit in our usual spot at the edge of the river. Last year, we always came down here after class ended, but it's my first time this year. I didn't have the heart to come without her.

"Len dumped me." She pulls out a cigarette and lights up.

"Oh, but you guys got on so well." My surprise is genuine. Usually Felice does the dumping. And Len seemed really into her, although, now I come to think of it, he wasn't around much at the end of the summer, but we assumed he was busy with the band.

"He says things are different now he's moved back to Dublin." Felice stares into the river, at the water flowing past. She's doing her best to hide it but I can tell she's upset. I want to hug her but know better.

"But you're in Dublin too."

"Yeah, in school!" She drags on the cigarette and raises her head, turning to face me. "That's the problem. Len doesn't want to be seen going out with a schoolgirl. Not good for his image. It was fine to pass a summer in Drimshanra but now they're back in town..." She flicks the ash and gazes at the water.

I pretend not to notice the tears in her eyes.

"They've so many fans now," she says. "Everyone is crazy about them. I bet Len's just thinking of all the opportunities he doesn't want to miss out on."

"Jesus, I can't believe he's that shallow."

"It might have been me," Felice attempts a laugh but it comes out harsh, like a cough, "trying to make something more of it than it was, and he was just letting me tag along while it suited him."

"You're better off without him." I don't really know what else to say.

"I mean I know that." She sits, staring straight ahead, cigarette in hand. "At least my head knows that. I blame myself. I always go for the worst guys, the ones that don't give a flying fuck."

"No," I say, "Len seemed the real deal. He fooled me too. If you wanted a guy that didn't give a shit, all you had to do was go for Mac Whitehead."

That gets a laugh out of her but then she says, "At least Mac is straight up about it, what you see is what you get. I thought there was more to Len."

We all did. "What does Spike say?"

"Spike? So you know the way he's been trying to get Mac to give him an interview all summer?"

"Yeah?" Spike is convinced if he could get that interview, it would be published in the Dublin Music Magazine which would open a lot of doors. Spike is a firm believer in the power of influence.

"Well, Mac has finally agreed. Spike is all over Black Death at the moment and won't hear a word against them. Can you believe he was actually trying to make excuses for Len?"

"No way!" But I'm not as indignant on her behalf as I should be. I'm actually relieved because it means one thing. Felice might be sharing a house with Spike, but she still needs me. In the distance, a bell rings. It's the end of lunch hour. "We'd better go, we'll be late for class."

"I don't want to go back there." She crushes her cigarette under her doc marten. "Think I'll just head home."

"Come on, it's the first week of term. If you keep missing class they'll call Axel and, next thing you know, you'll be boarding again."

"Like Dad gives a shit." But she gets up, hoists her bag over her shoulder, and follows me back to school.