Within ten minutes, a basketball lands at my feet. I look up and see Daze waving from across the fence.
‘You really have a habit of getting the ball not in your garden,’ I say, throwing the ball back at him.
‘I’m practising trick shots,’ says Daze. ‘It’s hard work.’
‘Ty mentioned,’ I say.
‘You’ve been talking to Ty?’ he says.
‘Not if I can help it,’ I say. ‘He’s justherea lot.’ I wave my arms at the garden.
‘Well he does live here,’ says Daze.
‘Okay, no need to state the obvious,’ I say with a laugh. ‘Have you started school? How’s reinventing yourself going?’
‘Actually pretty hard. It turns out everyone already knows each other,’ says Daze, looking down at the ground.
I feel sorry for the kid. It’s true, most people go from the same primary schools to secondary.
‘But you’re really easy to talk to,’ I say, throwing the ball to him. ‘You’ve got to put yourself out there.’
‘Yeah, but how?’ says Daze, throwing the ball back.
I think about it, bouncing the ball a couple of times. I have never bounced a basketball before, but the rhythm is soothing.
‘I think the best way of making friends is by finding some common ground. My two closest friends, we bonded because we all like Rose Conrad. And then with my friends from school, webonded because we were in the same classes. And girls in cross-country, we spend our time together running long distances in the cold. Which, I admit, is a bit masochistic.’ I throw the ball back to him.
‘Basketball doesn’t even seem to be a thing here. There’s no school basketball team or anything.’
‘Football is. I bet if you go up to some guys at school and say you’re American and want to learn the rules of football, they’ll explain it to you. And then, bam, new friends.’
‘But what if I’m not interested in football?’
I walk up to the fence, so we’re closer together. I’m still a head taller than Daze, but I sense that in a few years he’ll be as tall as Ty.
‘Daze, sometimes you have to try new things to make friends. Also you don’t know, you might be interested in football. Keep an open mind.’
‘Do you have a lot of friends?’ asks Daze.
I think about it. ‘I have two very close friends, but I’m friendly with a lot of people at school. I’ve learnt that if you are a good person and don’t cause any fights, people will like you. And I’m sure people will like you, Daze.’
‘Fine. Seeing as you sound like a pro on this, I’ll listen to you,’ says Daze.
‘I don’t think you can be a pro at making friends.’ I laugh.
‘It must be nice, being popular,’ says Ty, walking up to us. I remember he said he hadn’t had many friends in San Francisco.
‘I wouldn’t call myself popular,’ I mumble. For some reason it sounds like an attack, coming from him. Like I’m a mean girl or something. I snap myself out of it; there’s no need for this guy to get under my skin. ‘How are you doing in the making-friends department?’
‘Luckily I am friends with everyone in my class,’ he says.
I look at him, surprised.
‘Ty is homeschooled,’ says Daze. ‘The only person in his class is Mom.’
‘Oh,’ is all I say. I don’t know anyone who is homeschooled. Maybe because nearly everyone I know is from school . . .
Daze rolls his eyes. ‘Ty is being so dramatic. He makes out that because he wasn’t homecoming king he is bad at making friends.’
