Pippa stood at the edge of the wildflower hedgerow. Three girls in navy blazers huddled near the stone gates.
One girl dropped her striped sock. It fluttered down like a tiny flag. Pippa's fingers tightened around her own shoelace.
She stepped onto the gravel path. The girls didn't look up. They were busy with a knotted red ribbon tied around their wrists.
The ribbon snagged on a rosehip branch. Pippa reached out to help, but her fingers brushed it—and it sprang loose, wrapping around her own wrist.
The girls finally looked up. One of them said, 'Oops,' in a voice like wind chimes.
The ribbon pulled tight, linking Pippa to the group. They all stumbled forward together, tripping over their own feet.
They landed in a giggling heap on the soft grass. A bumblebee buzzed past their noses.
Pippa stood up, brushing petals from her knees. The girls held out their hands.
They linked fingers. They took a deep breath together. Then they stepped through the school gates as a team.
Pippa walked through the gates with them. The wildflower hedgerow waved behind her like a welcome.
