Dear diary, Mum hosted a barbeque.

For my birthday. Without telling me. It’s not even my birthday yet! That’s on Tuesday. Today’s Saturday. Mum just mentioned it casually over breakfast that she’d invited the whole street over. Who does that? I choked on my cereal.

“What?” I asked, wiping my face.

“Be ready by 10.30. People will start arriving then,” she said.

I looked at Danny but they were equally confused. “Are you feeling alright, Mum?” they asked.

“Of course. I think it’s time we got to know our neighbours for once.”

We turned to Dad. He shrugged. “I only got told when we woke up.”

“Will Penelope be coming?” I asked.

Mum stood up. “I want both of you on your best behaviour. This is finally our chance to know the people living around us,” she said.

Maybe she didn’t hear me. I went to ask again, but Mum already left.

Danny burst into laughter. “She’s finally lost her mind.”

“Don’t speak about your mother like that,” Dad said. He was trying to frown, but a smile kept sneaking through. “I’ve got to head to the shops to grab some food, which means that you two are going to be your mother’s little slaves.” He cleared his throat. “I mean helpers.”

We begged to go with him, but Dad refused, grinning as he walked out. Danny and I shared a reluctant look and dragged our feet outside where Mum was already setting up.

I didn’t understand why Mum was hosting a barbeque of all things. I still don’t, even after it’s long finished. She’s always tried to be polite with our neighbours and makes a habit of knowing at least the names of our immediate ones, but inviting an entire street into her backyard for some hot dogs? It doesn’t make sense. She’s just not that social. I don’t even remember her doing anything remotely like it when we weren’t constantly moving. Maybe this time really is different and we are staying. I guess this could be her trying to prove that.

But the person I saw greeting complete strangers with a wide smile, she didn’t look like my mum. Dad was trying his best to cover his own shock, and instead focussed on explaining to everyone that ‘yes, he was a linguist and no, that didn’t make his PhD less impressive than Mum’s.’ Danny and I were stuck in the same position, walking from neighbour to neighbour asking them if there was anything we could do and how they’re days were.

I thought trying to make friends at school was uncomfortable. This was something else entirely.

A lady in her fifties poked the pin that Mum stuck on my shirt five minutes before the first guest arrived. “I guess you’re the birthday girl, then,” she said. “I’ve got a grandson that’s ten too!”

“I’m turning twelve.” It said that on the invitation, but I wasn’t about to tell her.

“So you’ll be finishing primary school soon.”

“I’m in high school. Grade 7 was moved up a few years ago.”

She frowned. “Why do you kids always think I’m stupid just because I’m a little older than you?”

“I didn’t mean...”

She didn’t stay to hear the rest of it. I caught Mum’s disapproving glare and dropped my head. This was meant to be for my birthday, even if I had no say in it. So why was she acting like I’d forgotten some important line in a play? It’s like someone kidnapped Mum the day we moved and switched her out for a stricter version. I bet Danny would agree with that theory. Or they’d insist that she’s always been this way. I refuse to believe that. Something must have happened.

It felt like hours before I finally found someone who wasn’t an adult. He was a teenager who looked about sixteen or seventeen. I was kind of surprised to see that he wasn’t on his phone; instead he was absorbed in a book.

“What are you reading?” I asked.

“Not sure,” he answered. He glanced up and saw my confusion. “Sorry, my boyfriend hid a message in here somewhere. The book itself is in German, so I don’t actually know what it’s about.”

“Maybe he wants you to learn German,” I suggested.

He laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised.” He held out his hand. “I’m Isaac, judging by that pin, I’m guessing that you’re Emma.”

I shook his hand. “That and I’m the only girl here. I didn’t realise how few kids lived on Jacaranda Street.”

“There are more, but I don’t think their parents wanted them to come.”

“I don’t blame them,” I muttered.

“Which parent arranged it?” Isaac asked, like he was reading my mind.

“Mum,” I answered. “Why’d you come?”

Isaac shrugged. “Just savouring the moments before I get smashed with assignments.”

“What grade are you in?”

“Twelve. One more year and I’ll be moving to some cheap apartment for uni.”

“You don’t want to stay here?” I asked.

He laughed. It sounded kind of forced. “I’m not the one eager for me to move out.”

Before I could ask why, someone tapped my arm, Danny. They waved at Isaac then pointed at the food table. Mum was making a point of closing containers, while Dad stood next to her shaking his head.

“I don’t think she would recognise subtly if it hit her with a bus,” Danny said.

Isaac laughed properly this time, making Danny smile. “I guess it’s time for all of us to leave,” he said. “If you see me at school, feel free to talk. I’m not against being friends with kids in lower grades.”

I watched everyone leave with Danny. And it was then that I finally realised. Penelope was never there. I saw the faces of every single guest and struggled through too many awkward conversations, but I didn’t see her. She didn’t come. Was she just busy? Did she have more important things today? Did she even want to come? I have to ask her. Are we friends? I need to know.