‘Thanks,’ he says, and he moves towards the front door, then stops, and turns back to me. His brow is furrowed. ‘I—’

‘Yes?’ My wet hair slips over my shoulder, and I stand there, too eager. Let him say he’s changed his mind and he’s not going. If there’s no date, then I’ll have time to breathe, very slowly analyse my feelings from every angle and squash them all back down.

‘Never mind. I’ll see you later.’ His expression is unreadable.

And then he’s gone, and I walk to my room and lie on my bed, defeated. I expect to feel a release, with the giving up, but I don’t. The urge to do something about it, to do the very thing I know is stupid and messy and will very likely make my life harder—is stronger than ever. I never have urges like this.

I sit up.

I have to do something. I have to do something right now or I might explode.

I’m going to crash his date and tell him.

I get dressed before I can talk myself out of it. This is the kind of wild and terrible idea you really need to be riding on adrenaline to follow to completion, because any kind of close examination will derail you into rationality.

I dry my hair and put on the lipstick Lauren accidentally left here that she said is practically magic and can change your life if you layer it just right, and I walk down the hallway with purpose. Harper sees me and comes out of her bedroom.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Nowhere,’ I say, trying to sound casual as I slip past her, reaching for the door.

Harper looks at me closely. ‘Oh no,’ she says.

‘What?’

‘You’re wearing lipstick. Are you doing what I think you’re doing?’

‘No! It’s just lip gloss. Wait, what do you think I’m doing?’

‘I think you’re going to interrupt Jesse’s date. You are, aren’t you?’

‘No,’ I say, my hand dropping from the door handle. ‘That would be weird.’

‘It would be weird.’

‘Why would you think I was doing that?’ I ask. Do I look as desperate and out of control as I feel?

‘Because you look like the girl at the end of the rom-com who is going to run to the airport to stop him flying away.’

I take that to mean that I do look desperate and out of control but also cute, which is the best I can hope for. ‘Harper,’ I say, but then I have no more words. I want to deny it but I’m struggling to lie to her. I’m scared the truth is all over my face.