‘I bet boy-Dylan thinks about her, though,’ Lily said, ignoring me. ‘Thinks about that big smooch he planted on her the other day.’
‘Lily, please,’ I said.
‘Lily, please,’ she said, in a high-pitched girly voice. ‘Can’t we just all befriends? Can’t we just all beniceandkindandsweet?’
Dylan stepped in front of me. ‘Don’t,’ she said to Lily, an edge in her voice.
‘And here comes our hero,’ Lily said, switching intoa David Attenborough voice. ‘Rushing in to save the damsel in distress.’
‘How hard did you practise being like this before we got here?’ Dylan demanded. ‘How much time did you spend looking in the mirror and thinking of bitchy things to say? Did you have a training regime? A coach?’
I gave up. If Murray had wanted an actual buffer, he should have picked someone with more authority and the ability to take control of a situation.
At least Lily making fun of me for being childish had merely stung, instead of taking all the wind out of my sails. Maybe that was growth, or maybe I’d learned not to listen to anything she said. Either was a net positive.
I knelt down next to the pieces of the love machine. There was no chance of reclaiming the instructions from Lily, but I’d spent most of my professional life fiddling around with machinery. I could figure this out.
At least Dylan and Lily weren’t the only ones fighting. Group two was around the corner from us, but I could hear Naya and Heather screaming at each other from here.
I sorted quickly through the pieces and started assembling. I made a couple of wrong turns at first, because I expected the machine design to be sensible, but once I realised that a) it was just a catapult, and b) it was pointlessly complicated, it started going a lot quicker.
‘How are we going, ladies?’ Romeo-Dylan asked, walking up to us. ‘Or should I say – lady? You seem to be the only one working on this, Amanda.’
‘Well, machines are my thing,’ I said. ‘Do I have to use all the pieces we’ve got here? Or am I allowed to improvise?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, looking genuinely surprised. ‘Good question.’
‘Please let me optimise this,’ I said, putting my hands together like I was praying to him and his Greek god biceps. ‘You’re the Romeo. You make the rules. Please. Let me fix this.’
‘Who am I to stand between an artist and her art?’ he said. ‘Optimise away.’
‘What are youdoing?’ Lily demanded, suddenly appearing behind me. ‘You’re doing it all wrong, stupid! Those pieces are supposed to go in first, and you haven’t even touched them!’
‘Lily—’ Romeo-Dylan started.
‘Don’t you call her stupid—’ my Dylan was saying.
But none of it mattered, because Lily had already kicked the machine apart.
I can probably count the number of times I’ve been really, truly, genuinely angry in my life on one hand. Annoyed, sure. I get annoyed all the time. But actually, properlyfurious?
‘Lily,’ I said, standing up slowly, ‘walk away. Now.’
That infuriating smirk spread across her face. ‘Or what?’
‘Else.’
‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘I’m so scared.’
My fingers curled into fists. I wanted to punch that smirk right off her face.
There were two hands on my back. Both Dylans. ‘Don’t cry, Amanda,’ Romeo-Dylan said. ‘It’s just a silly game.’
‘I’m fine,’ I said, blinking furiously, wishing like hellthat I didn’t cry when I was angry. Stupid traitorous body. ‘Or I will be, once someone gets Lily out of my sight.’
‘It’s Lily Fireball.’
‘Shut up!’ Dylan and I exclaimed at the same time.
