And if she complained, what then? All that make-up. The heels. The scarlet she-devil costume. The fact she’s in this room. That she’s not said no. What was she expecting? That’s what people will say.

And maybe, Will realizes, that’s what he might think if he didn’t know better.

Why did I like this man when I saw him earlier? Will thinks. Why do boys eat up that easy charm? He isn’t like us; we don’t want to be like him. So why do we look up to men like this? Why are we made to feel like we’re on their team?

Lauren’s dad lunges to kiss the girl full in the face again. The towel falls to the floor.

If he was a different person, Will would start a fight right now. But his shortcomings in that area are already well documented. He’s no hero. He’s not about to play the hero. He’s not going to act any braver than he really feels, audience or not.

‘What the hell?’ Lauren’s dad says, jumping to his feet and scrambling for his towel.

Will blanks him, looking only at the girl. He has no idea of her name, but figures that doesn’t matter right now. ‘Jess?’ he says.

She looks up at him confused.

‘Jess! I’ve been looking for you all over.’ He wills her with his eyes to play along.

Her expression changes as she appears to catch on. ‘I was just –’

‘Everyone’s wondering where you are.’ Will reaches a hand out and she stands on wobbly legs. ‘Let’s get down.’

‘What the fuck are you doing in my room?’ Lauren’s dad hisses, face crimson as he binds a satin sheet round himself.

Will steps backwards, evading the guy’s attempts to square up to him. ‘Sorry, you know, was only …’

‘I should call the fucking police.’

‘Yeah, sorry.’

‘Call them,’ the girl says, stepping into the space between the man and Will.

‘What?’

‘Let’s just leave,’ Will says.

The girl brings her face close to Lauren’s dad’s. Will’s interruption has offered her the little time she needed to climb on top of her fear. A few seconds for her to catch up, to no longer be one step behind this man and his intentions.

Lauren’s dad freezes, no easy words of coercion now. A lug of spit hits him hard in the eye. He stands motionless, red-faced, as it oozes down his cheek.

‘Call them,’ she says. She’s still shaking, but fear has given way to anger. ‘I dare you.’

Will follows close behind the girl as she leaves the room.

‘It’s Dusty,’ she says as they descend the stairs, ‘not Jess. And I think I’d like to go home now.’