Mrs Petrovski put her hand on my arm and looked up at me with stern, hopeful eyes. “He kiss you?”

I put my hand to my heart. “Oh, boy. Did he ever.”

She cheered and others clapped and laughed, and I laughed too because this was how bizarre my life was now.

“So what will you do when it’s your turn to plan the next date?” Becky asked.

My smile died a slow death and I clutched my heart for completely different reasons. “I… I um… I can’t live with that kind of pressure. Oh God, what am I supposed to do to live up to his date. Because we had to reinvent new scales of ratings for his date. I’m not even kidding.”

“Like the Richter scale?” Sandra asked seriously.

I nodded, equally serious. “Exactly like that. But to the power of ten. It really was that good.”

“Don’t you worry,” Charles said. “We got you.” And for the rest of the trip home, they all chipped in with the best-worst ideas ever. So God help me. The Soup Crew really were a bunch of weird and wonderful motherfuckers.

“Need me to bring anything?” Merry asked. I’d just told her about our dinner plans on Thursday and told her she had to be there for moral support.

“Nope. I was going to have it at home and cook something, but the Soup Crew thought it would be better if we went out.”

“The Soup Crew?”

“Yeah, Mrs Petrovski, Charles, Becky, Sandra, and Ian. They catch the bus with us and they’re very invested. They’re like the Avengers…” I made a face as I reconsidered. “Okay, more like the cast from Cocoon, but whatever. They’re very invested, and they clap and cheer whenever Hennessy does anything sweet before he gets off the bus. Like yesterday, when he kissed me.”

“Wait.” She put her hand up. “Hennessy kissed you on the bus yesterday?”

I swooned at the memory. “He did. Just a sweet peck before he ran off the bus.”

Merry gave me her puppy dog eyes. “Awww.”

“I know!”

“And people on the bus clap and cheer for you?”

I nodded.

“What even is your life?”

“Fucked if I know.”

“Jordan!” Mrs Mullhearn said, frowning at me. “Is there any emergency reason for the language?”

“Well, emergency is subjective. I’m sure what I would deem as an emergency and what you might deem as an emergency—”

“Is anyone in a life-threatening situation?” she said over the top of me.

I looked around the room. “Um, no. Unless we count Merry’s lunch in the fridge. She cooked it last night and believe me, I’ve eaten her cooking before and although life-threatening is a strong word—”

Merry whacked my arm. “Hey!”

“Ow!”

“Is there work to be done?” Mrs Mullhearn asked.