She acted ignorant. ‘Key in door,’ Alex thought. ‘Key in door.’ She did it almost, but Chrissy beat her. Or did Alex let Chrissy beat her? ‘...lex.’ Chrissy whispered. Chrissy saying her name like that was enough for Alex to cry more. ‘Why did things have to be different? Was she really this sensitive? Why did it matter so much to people?’ Chrissy knew the story. She knew that Chrissy’s father had committed suicide. And it hurt her like hell to see Alex crying like this. Chrissy pouted her bottom. At first, we took it very seriously and would just sit down at the computer and I would start to retell the events that were carefully and as extensively as possible recorded in my diary and sometimes my dad would just sit there and watch me type and just be there to correct any grammatical mistakes again, but he bores easily so he would either start to read different extracts to the one I was currently writing about, (he just loves to read about when Katie and I do things) or he turns to his. More

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