On Friday afternoon, we cram in front of one of two currently functional Isaac Evans library computers with the application page to Stellatus open. I've filled in every section and attached the required documents. Now, the cursor hovers above the submit button.

One click. Just one click away.

If I don't get in, I don't get in. And that's fine—no one but Diwa would even know. Besides, going to Stellatus would mean having to start all over again and I'm not sure I want that, I'm not sure I want... I mean... Nevermind.

Blood gushing in my ears, I click and the application whooshes into the web. Instantly, ice cleaves my chest hollow.

But warmth follows it. As though I've eaten summat fresh off the hob, it suffuses from my stomach to my neck and palms which turn clammy. Diwa leans into my side, shaking my arm in her excitement and a grin splits my face. I pointlessly hide it in my hoodie, tugging the collar over my nose.

The thing tries to turn in my chest, like a moth pressed to my spine, too large to spread its wings in the confines of my ribcage. It tickles laughter into my throat like acid reflux.

I swallow it. 'Well. Your turn.'

'My turn for what?' Diwa asks with overkilled obliviousness. She avoids my stare until she eventually has to relent. 'I'm not gonna ask her out right now.'

'Why not?' I crane my neck to find Annabella showing Jeremy and Ju summat on her phone on the other side of library shelves. 'She's over there.'

'Well, what do I say?'

My stare flicks back to Diwa, eyebrows lifting. 'Uhhhhh... I'm aromantic and hate human interaction so maybe don't ask me for advice.'

'You're my only friend,' she hisses.

'Soz, mate, not my fucking problem.'

Cussing me out, Diwa gets to her feet and stomps away. I stare at the application confirmation still on the computer screen for a moment before I log out and turn it off.

I've just packed my things when Diwa reappears. Her face is blank, none of her barbs in sight. 'Her loss,' I say in an attempt at comfort as I zip up my backpack.

'No, she... accepted. We agreed for next week Sunday.'

Summat slithers between my lungs—cold, but not pure ice. Slimy.

'We should celebrate! Do summat fun.' I bounce to my feet, probably overcompensating but I've gotta stick to the bit now. 'I know just the thing.'

My excitement is clearly not infectious because Diwa don't as much as smile. 'We've still got another lesson.'

'Oh, who cares? You can skive off one class. Nowt's gonna happen.'

'To me, maybe. But have you forgotten Cobham's whole "this your final warning" thing?'

A scoff hisses along the roof of my mouth. 'He weren't serious.'

'I reckon he was... He thinks you started a fire in the school.'

'A fire that did nothing a month ago,' I counter. 'I've been a good nerd, I can skip one biology lesson without the world collapsing. C'mon, you'll like it. Trust me.'

'Why would I trust you? You've never inspired as much as a crumb of trust in another human being.'

'Well... Then I'm abducting you.'

Without preamble, I grab her hand and pull Diwa along so quickly that she barely has the chance to snatch her coat and bag from the back of her chair.

We're out of the library and well down the corridor before I stop. 'Are you still grounded?'

Tugging her hand from mine, Diwa pulls on her jacket. 'No. I guess those empanadas you brought were magic.'

I shove through the door into the side staircase, leaning against it to hold it open for her. 'Yeah, cause we don't put raisins in them like you criminals.'

'You ate six when I brought you some.'

I bounce down the stairs only to have to wait on the next landing. 'It's still morally corrupt.'

            'If I get arrested, my mum will definitely ground me for the rest of my life, no matter how many empanadas you make.'

I'm holding my hood on both sides to keep the wind from ripping it down and I have to turn my head a full ninety degrees to see at Diwa.

'We're not doing owt like that,' I say with feigned annoyance. 'I know how to do things that aren't illegal, you know. They're just a lot less fun.'

With her scarf wrapped around her head in some sort of mummy cosplay, I barely catch her eye roll.

We turn the corner and the wind gets even worse. Someone's wheely bin falls over and the tarp tied up over a broken car window whips the air. Letting go of my hood, I sprint the last few metres to a wooden signboard that reads "Molotov" with an arrow pointing to the lopsided cellar door.

Diwa casts me a sceptical glance but with this weather, she's not in the mood for bargaining and she endures the jagged cement steps to shove through the door. A bell announces our arrival to nobody's interest.

Given that it's four p.m. on a Wednesday, there aren't many people around. One group is having either well late lunch or proper early dinner, someone is tapping on a laptop covered in stickers while sipping a pint, and there are two loners nursing wounds at the bar.

The walls are plastered with posters for band try-outs and protests collected over decades of collective action. Unfurling her scarf and opening her jacket, Diwa allows her gaze to drift along the collage of garish colour and aggressive lettering.

A barkeep emerges from the back with a plastic crate of glass bottles rattling on their hip. 'Welc–'

Teddy cuts herself off and stares at me. It's lucky she don't drop the whole load. 'No fucking way. Beetles?'

I amble up to the bar, biting down a smile as the beam of Teddy's attention warms me up.

'Cash!' she bellows. 'Get over here!'

A tumble and a hiss. Then, a yell back. 'What d'you want?'

Though he don't get an answer, Cash emerges from the back, rubbing his elbow to ease the pain of whatever injury he just gave himself, and glares at his mate.

'Look,' Teddy says.

Cash does look, but his eyebrows raise, ready to question Teddy's sanity. Maybe it's the grin I no longer have any chance at suppressing that makes me unrecognisable from the glowering and sulking kid they knew. Maybe it's all the piercings I've got since then or the fact that I've got clothes I'm allowed to paint and accessorise however much I can afford rather than having to make do with whatever hand-me-down I got in Brookes Boys' Home. Maybe I just don't look the same.

Cash has just pulled his magnifying-glass stare from me when it springs back. Recognition is as sudden as a light flicked on.

'As I live and breathe... Beetles?' His head falls back with laughter. 'You grew up, kid.'

Notes

Skive off: Skip lessons,work, or other duties without permission.

I have a bonus chapter on Google Docs about Cece meeting Teddy and Cash. Here's an excerpt for the origin of the nickname: