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words per day.

      “Er, no,” he said, his voice almost too quiet to hear, as usual. He looked terrified. “Dr Afolayan wanted me to give a speech. About university.”

      I stared at him. “But you don’t even go to our school.”

      “Er, no.”

      “So what’s up with that?”

      “It was Mr Shannon’s idea.” Mr Shannon was the head teacher of Aled’s school. “Something about camaraderie between our schools. One of my friends was supposed to be doing this actually … he was head boy last year … but he’s busy so … he asked if I’d do it … yeah.”

      Aled’s voice got gradually quieter as he was speaking, almost like he didn’t think I was listening to him, despite the fact that I was looking right at him.

      “And you said yes?” I said.

      “Yes.”

      “Why?”

      Aled just laughed.

      He was visibly quaking.

      “Because he’s a turnip,” said Daniel, folding his arms.

      “Yes,” Aled murmured, but he was smiling.

      “You don’t have to do it,” I said. “I could just tell them you’re sick and everything will be fine.”

      “I sort of have to do it,” he said.

      “You don’t really have to do anything you don’t want to,” I said, but I knew that wasn’t true, and so did Aled, because he just laughed at me and shook his head.

      We didn’t say anything else.

      Afolayan was on stage again. “And now I’d like to welcome Aled Last, one of the boys’ school’s wonderful Year 13s, who will be setting off to one of the UK’s most prestigious universities in September. Well, if his A levels go to plan, anyway!”

      All the parents laughed at this. Daniel and Aled and I did not.

      Afolayan and the parents started to clap as Aled walked on to the stage. He approached the microphone. I’d done it a thousand times and I always got that little stomach flip beforehand, but watching Aled do it then was somehow three billion times worse.

      I hadn’t really spoken to Aled properly before. He caught the same train to school as me, but he sat in a different carriage. I knew next to nothing about him.

      “Er, hi, yeah,” he said. His voice sounded like he’d just stopped crying.

      “I didn’t realise he was this shy,” I whispered at Daniel, but Daniel didn’t say anything.

      “So, last year I, er, had an interview …”

      Daniel and I watched him struggle through his speech. Daniel, a practised public speaker like myself, occasionally shook his head. At one point he said, “He should have said no, for fuck’s sake.” I didn’t really like watching so I sat back in the chair for the second half of it and read the Twitter message fifty times over. I tried to switch my mind off and focus on Universe City and the messages. Radio had liked my art. Stupid little sketches of the characters, weird line drawings, 3am doodles in my 99p sketchbook instead of finishing my history essay. Nothing like this had happened to me, ever.

      When Aled walked off stage and joined us again I said, “Well done, that was really good!” even though we both knew I was lying again.

      He met my eyes. His had dark blue circles under them. Maybe he was a night owl like me.

      “Thanks,” he said, and then he walked away, and I thought that’d probably be the last time I ever saw him.

       DO WHAT YOU WANT

      Mum barely had time to say “nice speech” once I met her at our car, before I was telling her all about Universe City. I once tried to get Mum into Universe City by forcing her to listen to the first five episodes on our way to a Cornwall holiday, but Mum’s conclusion was, “I don’t really get it. Is it supposed to be funny or scary? Wait, is Radio Silence a girl or a boy or neither? Why do they never go to their university lectures?” I thought that was fair enough. At least she still watched Glee with me.

      “Are you sure this isn’t some sort of giant scam?” said Mum with a frown as we drove away from the Academy. I lifted my feet up on to the seat. “It sounds a bit like they’re trying to steal your art if they’re not even going to pay you.”

      “It was their official Twitter. They’re verified,” I said, but this didn’t quite have the same effect on Mum as it did on me. “They liked my art so much that they’re actually asking me to join their team!”

      Mum said nothing. She raised her eyebrows.

      “Please be happy for me,” I said, rolling my head towards her.

      “It’s really good! It’s brilliant! I just don’t want people to steal your sketches. You love that stuff.”

      “I don’t think it’s stealing! They’d give me all the credit.”

      “Have you signed a contract?”

      “Mum!” I groaned exasperatedly. There wasn’t much point trying to explain this to her. “It doesn’t matter, I’m gonna have to say no anyway.”

      “Wait, what? What d’you mean?”

      I shrugged. “I’m just not gonna have time. I’ll be in Year 13 in a few months, like, I’ve got so much work all the time, and Cambridge interview prep on top of that … there’s no way I’d have time to draw something for every single weekly episode.”

      Mum frowned. “I don’t understand. I thought you were really excited about this.”

      “I am, like, it’s so amazing that they messaged me and thought my art was good, but … I have to be realistic—”

      “You know, opportunities like this don’t come around very often,” Mum said. “And you clearly want to do it.”

      “Well, yeah, but … I get so much homework every day, and coursework and revision will only get more intense—”

      “I think you should do it.” Mum stared straight ahead and spun the steering wheel. “I think you work yourself too hard for school anyway and you should take an opportunity for once and do what you want.”

      And what I wanted to do was this:

      Direct Messages > with Radio

      Hey!! Wow … thank you so much, I can’t believe you liked my art! I’d be absolutely honoured to get involved!

      My email is [email protected] if it’s easier to talk there. Can’t wait to hear more about what you’re thinking in terms of design!

      Honestly, Universe City is my favourite series of all time. I can’t thank you enough for thinking of me!!

      Hope I don’t sound too much like a crazy fan haha! xx

       I ALWAYS WISHED I HAD A HOBBY

      I had work to do when I got home. I almost always had work to do when I got home. I almost always did work when I got home because whenever I wasn’t doing schoolwork I felt like I was wasting my time. I know this is kind of sad, and I always wished I had a hobby like football or playing the piano or ice-skating, but the fact of the matter was that the only thing I was good

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