***
I stand outside our houses and Ty is nowhere to be seen. Weird – if there’s one thing I’ve learnt about him in the past few months is that for a teenage boy, he’s strangely punctual. Where is he?
I look at my phone, no texts. I’m getting impatient. There’s a reason I wanted to go this early. What if we miss a chance to get a prime spot?
I’m also freezing. I’m stood outside dressed in gauzy blue-green fabric that snakes around me, with the thickest coat I could find thrown on top. I’m going as the sea-green eyes from ‘I Loved You Like That’.
Just when I am about to go and bang on his front door, Ty swings it open and slams it shut behind him.
He looks slightly erratic as he approaches me, with this weird energy.
‘What’s going on?’ I say.
‘Let’s go,’ he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me forwards. ‘We’ve got a show to get to.’
We barely speak as we navigate into London, and I can tell he’s twitchy but he won’t talk about why.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask again.
‘We can talk in the queue. We’ve got a long wait,’ he says. ‘I want to make sure we get there first.’
We sit in tubes full of girls in tulle and lace, smiling and laughing, and all I can think about is how I’m going to have to beat them to the front of the line.
I take off my jacket, sling it over my arm. I know my outfit is ridiculous for normal wear, but on this tube, anything goes.
Ty makes a noise.
‘What?’ I say. He blinks, double takes.
‘You look . . .’ He pauses, breaks off. ‘Well, you look—’
‘Like a five-year-old dressed me?’ I say. Do I look like a clown?
‘Incredible,’ he says, and in that moment time stands still. He waves his free hand up and down, struggling with words. ‘Just, wow, Selena. You’ve always been the brightest thing in the room to me. But you look, just, wow.’
He’s so devastatingly earnest I don’t know what to do with it. Inod dumbly, my throat feels dry. I feel like I could cry or laugh at any second.
‘That feels like a stupidly nice thing to say on the tube,’ I say.
‘I think any time is a good time to say a stupidly nice thing,’ he says with a smile.
‘You look nice too,’ I say, smiling at him. Even though he’s wearing a T-shirt and jeans.
‘Don’t lie,’ he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a tube of glitter. ‘I know I’m underdressed, I’m waiting until we get there to glitter up.’
‘Well, I’m glad you’re prepared.’ I laugh.
‘I’m taking this very seriously,’ he says. He thinks about it, ‘But maybe not as seriously as you.’
Fifty-Two
I exit stage left
My guitar’s taken off at my right
My feet tired and sore
But the magic of the night keeps me alight
