Selena is in their room, alone; the others must still be in the showers. She’s cross-legged on her bed, brushing out her wet hair and humming. When Julia comes in she glances up and smiles.

She looks the same. Just seeing her gentles Julia’s heartbeat; one breath, and the layer of grime the Daleks left behind starts to blow away. So suddenly and overwhelmingly it nearly knocks her breath out, Julia wants to be touching Selena, pressing up hard against the familiar curve of her shoulder, the solid warmth of her arm.

Selena says, ‘You could text Finn to meet you.’

It takes Julia’s mind a minute to pull out what she’s talking about. ‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘Maybe.’

‘Have you got his number?’

‘Yeah. It doesn’t matter. I’ll see him whenever.’

Julia sits on the floor, starts undoing her runners and fights with her mind. If Selena was with Chris, she’d have found a way to get to the social on Saturday, in case he hooked up with some other girl. If Selena had gone out last night, the rest of them would have woken up. If Selena had been with Chris, she wouldn’t be first back from the showers; she’d want extra time to wash off the smell of him, of night grass, of guilt. If Selena had been with a guy, it would show, clear as suck marks blotched across her neck. If Selena had done that, she’d be staticky with it, she’d need to talk, need to tell, she’d need to somehow make it all—

‘Lenie.’

‘Mmm?’

Selena looks up. Clear blue eyes, untroubled.

‘Nothing.’

Selena nods peacefully and goes back to brushing.

The whole vow thing was Selena’s idea to begin with. If she hadn’t wanted to do it, all she’d have had to do was keep her mouth shut. But getting the key, finding a way to get out at night, that was Selena’s idea too—

There’s a knot in Julia’s shoelace. She digs her nails into it.

She feels Selena’s eyes on the top of her head, hears her stop humming. She hears the quick indrawn breath as Selena braces herself to say something.

Julia doesn’t look up. She tugs at the knot till a nail splits.

Silence. Then the long swish of the brush again, and Selena humming.

It has to be bullshit. If the Colm’s guys had a way to get out of school, everyone would know. But if they don’t, then who was Gemma meeting, unless Gemma was making up the whole thing—

‘That song!’ Holly yells, bouncing in smelling of strawberries, with her armful of PE gear flying everywhere and her hair turbaned up into a stripy ice-cream swirl. ‘What’s that song? The one you’re humming?’ But neither of them can remember.