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[COVER]

🎨 __N1__, a girl in a brand-new slightly-too-big school uniform with a book bag, standing at a garden gate in golden September morning light, one foot forward, half-brave half-nervous smile; a cheerful school building with a red door visible down the street. Open sky at top.

1

The uniform had been hanging on the wardrobe door for eleven days. __N1__ knew, because she had counted every morning. It had a stiff collar, a jumper the colour of the school gates, and shoes so new they still squeaked hello with every step. Tomorrow, the hanging would be over. Tomorrow was the first day.

🎨 __N1__ in pyjamas sitting cross-legged on the bed at dusk, chin in hands, staring at a pristine school uniform hanging on the wardrobe door like it's both wonderful and slightly scary; shiny new shoes lined up below it.

2

That night, __N1__'s tummy was full of jumping beans. "What if I can't find the toilets?" she whispered to the ceiling. "What if nobody wants to sit with me? What if the teacher asks me something and my words hide?" The ceiling, as ceilings do, said nothing. But Mum heard anyway, the way mums do.

🎨 __N1__ lying in bed wide awake under the duvet, worry-thoughts drawn as tiny soft grey clouds above the bed showing a maze of corridors, an empty chair, a raised hand; Mum's silhouette appearing gently in the warm doorway light.

3

Mum sat on the edge of the bed. "Do you know what brave means?" she asked. "Not being scared?" said __N1__. "Nope," said Mum. "Brave is being scared and going anyway. Scared is just the engine warming up." She kissed her forehead. "And engines like yours? They warm up loud."

🎨 Cosy bedside moment: Mum sitting on the bed edge in lamplight, hand on the duvet, talking softly; __N1__ peeking out from under the covers, listening hard; the grey worry-clouds above the bed beginning to turn faintly golden at the edges.

4

In the morning there was a special breakfast — the lucky pancakes — and a photograph by the front door that took eleven tries because the dog kept helping. Then the walk. __N1__ held Mum's hand the whole way, but at the school gates, something surprising happened: her feet just... kept going.

🎨 Cheerful morning chaos: pancakes with a smiley fruit face, a front-door photo attempt with a bouncy dog photobombing; then the walk to school, __N1__ holding Mum's hand, the red school door ahead with balloons and other families arriving.

5

The classroom smelled of new crayons and old stories. There were pegs with names on, a carpet with its own map of the world, and a reading corner shaped like a boat. A teacher with kind crinkly eyes crouched down to exactly __N1__'s height. "You must be __N1__. We saved your peg. It's the best one — near the window."

🎨 A warm bright reception classroom: a wall of coat pegs, a world-map carpet, a boat-shaped reading corner with cushions; the kindly teacher crouching to greet __N1__ at eye level; __N1__ clutching the book bag, taking it all in.

6

Finding the peg was easy. Finding a friend looked harder. Everyone seemed to already know how to be here. __N1__ stood by the window, holding her bag with both hands, practising being invisible — when she noticed someone practising even harder. A small kid behind the bookshelf, hugging a dinosaur so worn it had one and a half eyes.

🎨 __N1__ standing a little apart by the window while the classroom buzzes; through a gap in the bookshelf, another small child is half-hidden, hugging a threadbare one-and-a-half-eyed toy dinosaur, peeking out shyly.

7

The jumping beans in __N1__'s tummy jumped. But then she remembered: the engine was just warming up. __N1__ walked over, sat down on the floor next to the bookshelf, and said the bravest sentence of the whole day: "I like your dinosaur. What happened to his eye?"

🎨 __N1__ sitting down cross-legged on the carpet beside the hiding child, pointing gently at the old toy dinosaur; the other child's face lifting from behind the dinosaur, surprised and hopeful; soft warm classroom light on the pair.

8

The kid's name was Sam. The dinosaur's name was Chomp, and the eye had been lost heroically (a washing machine was involved). By carpet time they were sitting together. By snack time they had invented a game with no rules that both of them were winning. By lunch, the dinner hall didn't seem loud — it seemed like a party.

🎨 Montage of the day warming up: __N1__ and Sam side by side at carpet time whispering; giggling over an invented game with counters at snack time; sitting together in the big bright dinner hall, Chomp the dinosaur between their trays.

9

In the afternoon, the teacher asked, "Who would like to tell us one thing they found out today?" The old __N1__ would have studied the carpet very hard. The new __N1__ put up a hand — only halfway, but up is up. "I found out... school has a boat. And my friend Sam." The class thought a reading boat and a friend were both excellent findings.

🎨 Circle time on the world-map carpet: __N1__ with a hand raised halfway, cheeks a little pink but smiling; the teacher beaming; Sam giving a tiny thumbs-up from across the circle; the boat reading corner in the background.

10

At home time, __N1__ ran the last ten steps to Mum, book bag flying, words tumbling out in the wrong order and all at once — the boat, the pancakes... no, the pegs, the dinosaur with one and a half eyes, SAM. Mum listened to every single crumb of it. "So," she smiled, "how was the engine?" "LOUD," said __N1__. "And then it FLEW."

🎨 The school gates at home time, golden afternoon: __N1__ mid-run toward Mum with the book bag swinging, face blazing with joy; other families around; Mum crouched with open arms; the red school door behind.

11

That night the uniform went back on the wardrobe door — not stiff and strange anymore, just waiting, like a friend who'd see her tomorrow. The shoes had one small scuff. Mum said scuffs are what adventures leave behind so you don't forget them.

🎨 Evening bedroom: the uniform hanging on the wardrobe looking familiar and friendly now, one shoe with a proud little scuff; __N1__ in pyjamas placing a drawing of a boat and two stick figures on the shelf; warm lamplight.

12

And when the lights went out, the ceiling got one more whisper: "Ceiling... school has a boat. And I have a Sam." Somewhere in the dark, the jumping beans had gone quiet. They weren't needed anymore. The engine had found its road.

🎨 Peaceful final scene: __N1__ fast asleep with a tiny smile, moonlight across the duvet; above the bed, the last little worry-cloud has turned into a small golden boat sailing away; the book bag ready by the door for tomorrow.