As we searched for Ruby, Temi filled us in on how the show was going and asked all about my trip. She seemed really impressed. When we finally found Ruby, she was alone in a small room, sitting in front of a big mirror—and she looked absolutely fire. Like a sexy disco ball.

But she was busy looking at Temi. And Temi was looking at Ruby.

And they were both trying to hold in what looked like face-wide smiles.

Ermmmmm. I looked at Fred, but his eyes were shooting from Ruby to Temi to Ruby like he was watching an intense game of Ping-Pong.

Should we slow-walk backward out of here and close the door so they could be alone?

Temi and Ruby had serious energy.

“These guys were looking for you. Hope it’s okay…” Temi grinned.

“’Course. Yes.” Ruby was nodding and smiling and nodding. “Thanks. That’s great. Excellent. Thanks.”

Temi turned to us. “Have either of you seen it before?” Fred put his hand up like he was in class. “Well, then, Elle, be prepared. Ruby is killer.”

“No, you are!” Ruby almost interrupted her, she said it so quickly.

“No, it’s all about you,” Temi shot back.

When they finally stopped “no, you-ing,” Temi said she’d leave us to it, gave me a hug bye, and shut the door behind her. Ruby was still beaming. It would be gross, if I weren’t totally into it.

“So, you want to fill me in?” I pulled up a chair for me and Fred.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ruby pretended to be indignant. Holly was right—her acting skills were good.

“Well, I’m talking”—Fred waved his finger—“about the fact Ruby’s finally sorted out a date. With Temi. In two days’ time. Yes, after three months, it’s actually happening.”

“It’s not a date.” Ruby didn’t sound like she was even convincing herself. “Just two people. Hanging out.”

“On a date.” I couldn’t not join in, but before Ruby could protest, I carried on. “I’m stoked for you. She’s awesome.”

Ruby grinned. “She is, isn’t she?”

“Yup.” I gave her my last packet of Swedish Fish as a good-luck offering. “And so are you. Invite me to the wedding, please.”

By the time Fred and I were in the frow (as only Fred kept saying), I was feeling actual nerves. The lights dimmed, and they did an announcement about turning off phones, but I was already on it. After tooblessed’s comment earlier, I’d decided that this evening, I was switching off. Not just my phone. Everything. Worrying about #FestiveFifteen. Worrying about the comments. Worrying about if I’d beat Clara.