‘Where is he?’ I overhear Rhys complain. ‘I don’t understand what’s taking so long.’

‘Oh, let him take as long as he likes.’ Tiffany waves him away. ‘If he wants to miss his own prom, then that’s up to him.’ I’m sure she’d absolutely love that.

‘It’s just so annoying,’ Rhys replies. ‘He has to be late to everything. He looks the same with or without the stupid make-up. I don’t understand why he always does this!’

As someone who never leaves her room without a full face, I sort of expect Tiffany to say something to that. But she doesn’t. Though I’m not really sure she’s even listening.

Rhys continues to complain, calling Kellen ‘high maintenance’ one moment and a ‘ball and chain’ the next. I hate that about him. Whenever Kellen’s not around, he always has something bad to say. I can’t remember the last time I heard him say something nice.

Luckily, everyone else has Kellen’s back. A ripple of compliments surges through the crowd as he finally makes his entrance. Not a single head remains unturned as he strides out from the main building and goes over to join his boyfriend. I’m shocked to see he’s wearing a black jacket too – though he’s put a Kellen twist on it, and that’s what’s got people talking. The jacket has a hint of a sparkle to it and he’s not wearing a shirt underneath, there’s just his bare torso, and he’s paired the outfit with glimmering black heels. I have to admit I’d expected him to wear something more colourful – he had painted his nails red, after all – but now I see he’s stripped the colour from them too. He must have changed his outfit at the last minute to match his boyfriend’s. He’s holding his mask, and it’s exactly the same as the one Rhys is wearing. He’s gone to so much effort to match his boyfriend’s distinct lack of effort, but I see Rhys glance at the heels and grimace. I could actually punch him, but Kellen doesn’t seem to notice as he loudly tells him how handsome he looks in his plain black suit. I literally can’t watch this.

‘OK, who is that?’ Chase says, pulling my attention away from the happy couple.

Someone’s coming towards us. They’re wearing an extravagant blue-and-gold-patterned jester’s costume, the little bells on the tri-pointed hat jingling as they approach. Their hands are covered by silk gloves, and a grinning white mask obscures their identity.

‘It’s Josh,’ Bec says confidently as he reaches us. ‘Class clown, right?’

‘Ta-da!’ he says, pulling off the mask, the artificial grin replaced with the real one. ‘Whaddya think? Outrageous, right?’ He shakes his head to make the bells jingle.

That’s what I love about Josh. Everyone else is so preoccupied with looking hot or expensive, but here he is making himself look ridiculous. Anything to get a few laughs.

‘It’s definitely something,’ I say. ‘You know it actually kinda suits you?’