"I've found your new boyfriend" Dean says as I reach the cloakroom.
"Where?" I ask, looking round.
"Well, there's only one obvious candidate, isn't there?"
I survey the boys in the group. Dean excluded, there are three people with Y chromosomes in the immediate vicinity. Only one of them has floppy brown hair. Dean may have a point.
Only - and this is the kind of only that all writers dream of, the big reveal that changes the narrative -
I have met this particular floppy haired boy before.