Julia understands that the only smart thing to do here is get the fuck out. She is way out of her depth. Head very very quietly back to her bed, hope Chris thinks Selena was messing him around and flounces off in another snot. Hope the grove will allow him to walk back to his daytime self. Hope it all goes away.

It won’t. What got her here hasn’t changed: if she doesn’t do this tonight, Selena will do it tomorrow, or next week, or the week after that.

Julia steps out onto the grass, and feels cold moonlight pour down her back. Behind her, the cypresses shiver into readiness.

Her movement sends Chris whirling towards her, bounding forward with his hands out, his face blazing up with what looks like sheer joy – the guy’s even better than she thought, no wonder Lenie fell for it. When he sees who it isn’t, he screeches to a stop like something in a cartoon.

‘What are you doing here?’ he demands.

‘That’s flattering,’ Julia says, before she can stop herself. She knows better than to be a smart-arse tonight. She knows exactly what to be; she’s watched enough girls force themselves into the right shapes, pull the strings tighter till they can barely breathe. She does a lash-bat and giggle that’s pure Joanne. ‘Who were you expecting?’

Chris shoves floppy fringe out of his face. ‘No one. None of your business. Are you meeting someone? Or what?’

His eyes are everywhere but on her, leaping to the path, to every rustle. All he wants from her is a fast exit, before Selena comes.

‘I’m meeting you,’ Julia says, ducking her head coyly. ‘Hi.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Hello? I’m the one who texted you?’

That gets Chris’s attention. ‘Are you fucking serious?’

Julia does some combination of a shrug and a wiggle and a giggle.

Chris’s head goes back and he moves, a tight fast circle around the clearing. He’s furious with her, for not being Selena and for seeing that look on him, and Julia knows she should have planned for this.

She sends her voice up an octave, coaxing little whine, good and submissive to the big important boy. ‘Are you mad at me?’

‘For fuck’s sake.’

‘I’m sooo sorry for . . . you know. Fooling you. I just . . .’ Julia tucks her head down and looks up at him sideways. Itsy-bitsy voice: ‘I wanted to meet you. In private. You know what I mean.’

And just like that, Chris has stopped moving and he’s looking at her. The edge has fallen off his anger; he’s interested now.

‘You could’ve just come up and talked to me. At the Court, or wherever. Like normal people do.’

Julia pouts. ‘Excuse me, if you weren’t so popular? There’s always, like, literally a queue to get near you.’