Bethany waves at us and I wave back. Then I realize my mistake. She isn’t waving at us, she’s waving at Alice. Of course she is. My cheeks go red, but hopefully no one has noticed because the blackout blinds are fully down now and…oh no, someone’s trained lights on a giant mirror ball suspended from the ceiling. Everyone cheers as the multicolored pattern starts raining down the walls. I stare at the floor, unable to catch my breath. I won’t be able to stay now. Flashing or moving lights of any kind give me seizures.

Alice touches me on the shoulder and, before I can stop her, she’s marching off to speak to the young guy adjusting the position of the spotlights. I head for the exit, eyes down, a rising feeling in my gut. But just as I reach the double doors that lead into the corridor, the spotlights are turned off and everyone groans in disappointment. I turn round and edge my way back into the hall. It won’t be long before word gets out that they’ve turned them off because of me.

Someone switches on a couple of stationary lights dotted about the place, but it’s not as pretty as the mirror ball. Nowhere near. I know Alice did it for me, because she doesn’t want me to have a seizure, but I wish she hadn’t. I’d rather have gone home. But then she’d have had to leave, too. She’s loyal like that. I’d have felt guilty then. Even guiltier than I do now, for ruining the light show for everyone else.

When I’m standing in the queue to buy a drink—7Up for Alice and apple juice for me—the girl in front of me is complaining to her friend about the mirror ball. I don’t know for sure whether she’s saying it because she knows I’m right behind her and can hear every word, but I’m pretty sure she is. I want to grab her stupid high ponytail and jerk her head right back and tell her not to be such a selfish cow, but I just stand there, waiting my turn, pretending I can’t hear. Swaying along to Nelly Furtado.

Sally Peters and Heather Langton are talking to Alice when I get back with the drinks.

“Hi, Lizzie. I love your new trousers,” Sally says. I know she’s only being nice because they look awful—Catherine’s left me in no doubt about that—but at least she isn’t being sarcastic. She isn’t saying it how Melissa or Bethany would say it. How they probably will say it at some point during the evening.