I couldn’t believe that it was really happening, and without me having to try. I mean, I think I wanted to be kissed. The only problem was that I was still really busting for the toilet and didn’t know how to tell Trent, especially when his lips were on mine, and I wanted to keep kissing him. It didn’t seem that bad.

He started to kiss me harder, shoving his tongue almost down my throat. I didn’t like that at all.

And then he pulled me closer to him and put his hand on my chest. Whoa. I so wasn’t ready for that.

I pushed his hand away. I realised that I wasn’t actually ready to be kissed. And even though I thought I really liked Trent, I had only wanted to get to know him.

I pulled back and said, ‘No, Trent.’

‘But I thought you were into me?’

‘Yeah, but I want to get to know you first,’ I said, hoping he would understand.

‘Well, let’s get to know each other,’ he said, pulling me to him again.

‘No, Trent!’ I was almost yelling.

Then, to my surprise, I heard Jamie say, ‘Trent, you heard Phoebe.’ He was standing in the doorway seething and it had nothing to do with jealousy or anything like that.

‘Piss off, Jamie. What’s it got to do with you?’ Trent said, gripping my wrist.

‘You heard her,’ Jamie bit back.

Trent released me, went over to Jamie and pushed him against the wall. And even though Jamie was much smaller than Trent, he shoved Trent back twice as hard. Trent crashed against the other side of the doorway.

Jamie raised his fists, ready to fight. ‘Leave her alone,’ he said, looking like he was an inch away from killing Trent.

I think Trent realised that the only way to get past Jamie was to knock him out, so he laughed and said, ‘God, you’re a loser sometimes.’ He walked away, Jamie following quickly, which gave me time to close the bathroom door. I burst into tears as I finally got to pee.

What the hell happened? I was so angry and confused. Was I supposed to go with it, let Trent do what he wanted? I started to feel embarrassed and tears streamed down my face. I finally finished peeing and then I stood in front of the mirror, washing my hands while crying some more. I stopped crying long enough to clean the mascara off of my cheeks.

I didn’t know how I was going to walk back outside. I took a deep breath. What a creep. I’m so naive. I was so hurt. I really thought I liked Trent. How could I have liked Trent? I felt sick, really sick, like I-could-spew sick.