“Coming,” Rae says, sashaying at her own pace, her arm linked with mine.

I laugh, and Rae catches me staring at Jack as he runs.

“You’re hopeless,” she says.

“What?”

“Jack.” She nudges me.

“I’ve known him five minutes. There’s nothing. I mean, he’s …” Gorgeous, funny, smart, ambitious, cute. “Cute, I guess. But we’re not sure he’s even gay-adjacent,” I say coolly.

“Sweetie,” she begins. “I wish Harry would look at me the way Jack looks at you.”

“Stop.”

“Seriously. Who knows if he’s gay or gay-adjacent or bi or pan or whatever, but he’s definitely into you.” She stops me and looks deep into my eyes. “Girls know these things.”

“Teach me your ways.”

“Sadly, I cannot. I am a wise sage. I love you,” she says earnestly.

I nudge her with my shoulder. “Love you too.”

As we reach Benny and Jack, she shoves me toward Jack, and I bump into him.

He grabs my arm. “Let’s get close to the stage!”

I look back toward Rae.

“Go. Benny and I will stay here.” Benny looks at her sideways. She flashes him a flask, and his eyes go wide.

He ushers us off. “We love a good back-of-the-crowd moment!”

Jack and I weave through the crowd of sweaty bodies. It’s musky. The stench of wet hair and weed permeates the air. When we reach the stage, Jack starts jumping up and down, matching the frantic energy of the band. I admire his carefree way of wholly embracing the moment.

“Get into it!” he encourages, though nobody else seems to be jumping.

Everyone is staring at Jack, scrunching their faces and rolling their eyes and barely listening to the band. He’s bouncing and mouthing random words that don’t match up with the lyrics; his smiling face is bright red as he flails his animated limbs, like he’s totally free and doesn’t care how he looks.

Olly Alexander, the face of the band, starts the next song. “This one is called ‘Shine.’ ”

Jack stops jumping when the first few notes play over the speakers. “I think you’ll like this one. It’s my favorite,” he says as lightning streaks across the sky.

I join Jack’s solitary mosh pit, and we’re jumping in tandem, shouting random words, and haphazardly throwing our hands in the air.

The sky is growing dark, and ominous gray clouds tuck the night sky beneath a false security blanket. It starts to drizzle. I can’t take my eyes off Jack as he sings the words to a song called “King,” and when it crescendos during the last chorus, he turns and grabs me and shouts, “Ooooh-oooooh-oooooooh!”

The muscles in my cheeks ache from laughing, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt like this. Actually, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt like this before. There’s a strange calm, a happy excitement washing over me; I want to never leave this moment with Jack.

The rain picks up harder, moving from a light mist to a torrential downpour. The band, tucked under a white canopy, keeps playing as Jack spreads his arms, sticks his chest out, and peers toward the sky, letting the water cleanse him.