I wasn’t ready yet, but I knew I could be as cool and successful as Saffron and Tiger. I could be as beautiful. I could be as stylish. This would be the area of life I could shine in.

You see, all my life I’d been number two. The second twin. Trailing along behind. Charlie was not only two minutes older than me, but she was smarter, sportier and better than me. At everything. Without even trying. She also had greener eyes, blonder hair and naturally longer eyelashes.

And after a while, it got a little bit annoying. It wasn’t that I was jealous. I mean, she’s my twin. I love her. It’s just that it would have been nice to be number one sometimes.

The second that Saffron tossed her hair in that circle, I knew what path I was going to take in life. This would be the one thing that Charlie could never beat me at.

I was going to be popular.

Samantha had exactly the same idea.

“They are so awesome,” she said to me under her breath, looking at Saffron. “So, so cool. We have to hang with them. We just have to.”

There were two things stopping us. The first was the massive crush of other girls thinking the same thing and all trying to get Saffron and Tiger’s attention the instant the bell went for recess. The second thing was that they already had two other friends.

Lise and Isabella were not as pretty as Saffron and Tiger but they also had perfect hair, skin, teeth and nails. All four of them wore their skirts just fractionally shorter than everyone else but not so short that they got into trouble. We watched them walk around the playground together, choose the best seats, make their way to the front of the canteen queue and completely ignore anyone who got in their way. When they walked through a crowd, a path opened up in front of them and everybody’s heads turned to gaze as they went past.

But despite our best efforts and intentions, we couldn’t crack it. We couldn’t even figure out a way to crack it. Despite our best intentions, Sam and I had to be content with being part of a bigger group of normal girls, including squeaky Milly. We settled in to school and went to class and did our homework and got on with life.

But we were still scheming. There had to be a way to get in with Saffron and Tiger, even if it took us until we were in Year 12.

One of Samantha’s strategies was to not follow their trends. I don’t know if Saffron meant to deliberately start fashions but it was weird to watch it happen. One day she would wear her hat tipped back on her head slightly. The next day 30 other girls’ hats would also be tipped back. The day after that, the whole playground had their hats on a slope. When Tiger turned up at school with a new bag, 25 others had similar bags by the end of the week. When Lise got red highlights in her hair, everyone else did too.

Except for me and Samantha.

“Copying is the quickest way to be known as a nobody,” Sam told me. “You’ve got to stay ahead, but not too far. You’ve got to be an individual, but not too much.”

So we didn’t follow the trends. But we knew exactly what they were.

About halfway through the first term of Year Seven suddenly there was a change. Shannon Davies, a girl in my English class, began to hang out with them. Samantha, who finds things out from people, had the whole story.

“Apparently they don’t want an even numbered group,” she said, smudging her eye liner with her finger right up close to my mirror. “Saffron likes odd numbers in a group so they picked Shannon to be the number five.” She scanned the top of my dresser. It was one of those ones that are completely covered in mirror glass. It had taken me weeks to save up for it the year before and I could see about 20 different Sams reflected back at me. “Have you got any gold or silver?”

“Both. On the left, behind that tub of all those jars of nail polish,” I said. “Can you see it? All the eye shadows are in that basket with the silver beads on it.”

Sam chose a colour, dabbed it on and then turned around to show me her eyelids. “What do you think Shweetie?”

“Yeah, good, Pumpkin,” I said in my silly voice, but I was more interested in the Shannon thing. “Why her? I mean, she’s not prettier or smarter or anything.”

“I know, right?” said Samantha. “It’s unfair. I mean, she’s not really cool at all. Maybe she’s like a sympathy project or something. Maybe they’re going to give her a makeover like in the movies.”

“Lucky her,” I said. “I could do with a makeover.” I picked up my hand mirror and examined a new zit on my chin. “I mean, look at this. It’s gross,” I said. And then it hit me. The numbers weren’t right.

“Hang on,” I said. “You said odd numbers, right? This is a problem. This means that we can never join their group together. I mean, it’s basic maths. Four plus two equals six. Ba-bowww,” and I made a noise like on a game show when they tell people they’re out.

“Don’t even say it,” said Samantha. She pressed her hands against her ears dramatically. “I would do anything to be as cool as them. I so want to be popular.” She put down her makeup and dropped on to my bed. I threw some gold pillows out of the way and flopped down next to her.

“I know,” I said. “Me too. It’s so unfair. Hey, don’t crush my doona cover.”

Samantha turned over towards me, smoothing out the shiny purple fabric. “I can’t believe you still have purple in your room,” she said.

“I knoooow,” I said, half pouting. “It’s just I love it so much. Obviously, I don’t wear it any more. You don’t have to worry about that. But I can’t get rid of it.” I clung in a mock-sad way to a purple cushion and made big eyes at my friend.

Sam had been kind enough to point out that purple didn’t suit my skin tone after I wore a purple dress to our Year Six farewell. I had thrown out the dress the very next day, despite what Mum said, and refused to look at the photos.

“It’s your choice, I guess.” She wrinkled up her nose. “Anyway, have you heard about Tiger’s birthday party? Apparently they’re all—including Shannon—going to a day spa before the party which is, get this, on Tiger’s dad’s yacht, and there’s going to be a DJ and everything.”

“And boys too,” I said. “How slack is it that we go to an all girls’ school! Lucky, lucky Shannon.”

For the rest of the year we watched Shannon become popular and turn from normal girl to shiny princess. Her hair, face, nails and even her walk changed. Samantha and I sat on the sidelines and ached with envy. But we didn’t give up. We still had big plans to be popular, even though we didn’t know how it would happen.

As it turned out, it did happen. And it was all because of chocolate.