She tore towards the computer the minute she woke up, still tired from the last night -still smiling at the memory. If only she knew that her wonderful memory was about to turn sour, so sour that her eyes would water.

Caressing her arms softly, she waited for the computer to sign her into her IM program. Hopefully Matthew would be online -but she quickly crushed the thought. Of course he'd be online, he just had to be.

Mere minutes later, she was looking at the screen in stunned disbelief -how could this be happening? The perfect guy she'd found, her soulmate... didn't give a damn about her.

For God's sake it meant nothing

But that night in the disco -I must have meant something for you to have asked for my number

It was my birthday, ok? I was drunk! I'd kissed six other girls in that night apart from you

I was not looking for a relationship

I thought we had something special she typed, realisation dawning on her

It could never have been. I told you I didn't want a relationship, I can't face one

Then why did you ask for my number she persisted

I was drunk, I didn't know what I was doing

When she didn't reply, he kept typing

I didn't mean it like that -I'm okay with a message now and again, going out on a date once in a while -but nothing more

This is why you never said you love me, she typed, tears falling hard and fast now

Whenever I looked into your eyes, I saw hope there he wrote, hating himself for what he was doing

And why are you telling me this now?

I couldn't carry on leading you on. It's for your own good

So I'm supposed to be grateful?

Look, I could have let you go on falling deeper and deeper in love with me before breaking it off, but I didn't

Well, thank you for that then

Abruptly, she clicked on the "Sign Out" icon.

Her memories were tainted, the places they'd visited were tainted.

She remembered their first online conversation... his description of the first time he saw her in a disco ... then a cute face looking up at me...

Her friends had all been envious of her that night, and those who heard it second hand next morning were awe struck.

From being one of the ones in a relationship, she was back in an abyss. What could she expect from them? Patronising sympathy maybe... or indignant rage at Matthew.

She copied the conversation into a document and emailed it to her best friends, then texted them to let them know.

Within five minutes, the whole group was online, with mixed reactions to the latest episode

...better off without him... how could he have been such a bastard... didn't expect this... he didn't look like the type... couldn't have seen it coming...

She read their comments without replying, went through the rest of the day stoically, then cried in the privacy of her room. Sympathetic texts trickled in... if you need anything, just let us know...

But who could she talk to about this? Two of the gang were involved in a happy, productive relationship with each other, others were happily single, and another one was trapped in an unrequited love circle.

When she woke up next morning, her eyes were swollen, and dark thunderclouds were gathered ominously overhead. She swore viciously under her breath, cursing the weather, her hair, public transport -anything to avoid reality.

At school, the electricity in the air was ominous as her friends gathered, going through the usual motions of the morning: copying homework, discussing maths, and gazing secretly at objects of affection while at the same time fervently wishing for some mishap to befall the girl he was lusting after... but all without any of the usual laughter and good natured bickering -for how could they be happy while one of their best friends was in such turmoil?

At the time her bus was due, they gathered in her classroom, waiting for her. Outwardly, she gave no sign of what she felt as she stood in the doorway, silhouetted for a second by the flash of lightning, but as the first crash of thunder broke overhead, her composure broke and all six of them fell into a group hug, boy and girl, single and not single, sixteen and seventeen, transmitting support to weather the storm.