"Julian, you're an absolute party animal," I said. "You should really calm yourself down."
Julian looked up at me, raising one eyebrow. "I'm not really into loud music."
I shrugged. "Neither am I. I'm more into bathrooms, myself. Have you had that experience yet?"
Julian shook his head and returned to his book. I bent down, trying to see what he was reading.
He saw me trying to look, and tilted the book so I could see the cover and spine. " 'What Were They Thinking? Really Bad Ideas Throughout History' ", I read aloud, before sitting down on the couch near him. "Sounds interesting."
"I was surprised to find it, actually," Julian said. "In fact, I was surprised to see that the Minks even had a library. I thought it might've been fake or something, but all the books are real – I've checked."
I glanced around at the shelves of books lining the walls. It certainly looked impressive, but it didn't have the same atmosphere as the well-stocked library of Amelia's father. It felt like a library maintained only for show, and the couches seemed too stiff, as though they were hardly ever used. The books looked too new, the shelves looked too neat.
"What were you laughing at?" I asked.
He smiled. "This," he said, handing me the book and pointing to a quote.
I read aloud, "'Things are more like they are now than they have ever been. President Gerald Ford'." I laughed, handing the book back to him. "Typical."
"It's an excellent quote," Julian said, still amused. "Very poignant. Good observation, I thought."
I smiled. "Let me know if you find any more," I said, starting to get up.
"I thought you didn't like loud music, either?" he said, sort of hastily.
I shrugged. "Not the techno rubbish Tia's chosen," I said. "And not Mystery doing her best Amy Lee impression, either."
"What music do you like?" Julian asked, sounding interested.
I sat back down again. "Well," I said, "mostly, you know, pop-rock sort of stuff. At least that's what I call it, even though other people don't. You know…Fall Out Boy, Green Day, Jimmy Eat World, Paramore…my brother calls it 'teenybopper rubbish'."
Julian smirked. "What do other people call it?"
"Everyone has different opinions," I said. "Like, for example, some people day Green Day is punk, and other people say they're not. Some people say Paramore are pop, and others say it's rock. It's impossible to pin genres on music these days, and I don't care. I just figure if it sounds good, then it's worth listening to."
Julian nodded. "A good philosophy," he said.
"What do you like?" I asked.



He sat back. "Depends, really. Some instrumental songs, some rock bands…Red Hot Chilli Peppers are pretty good."
I shook my head. "Can't stand them."
"Don't care, as long as it sounds good," Julian replied quickly, deliberately.
I smiled.
He smiled.
"Thanks, by the way," Julian said.
"For what?"
"For unleashing your stinging sarcasm on Tia," he said.
"She deserved it," I said.
"But you didn't have to do that," he said.
I shrugged. "Yeah, I did."
I smiled.
He smiled.
It was getting silly.
"Well," I said, getting up again, "they'll think I've fallen in if I don't get back soon."
"Fallen in?" Julian asked.
"Into the loo," I said over my shoulder. I stopped again. "You said instrumental songs, right?"
"Depends, but yeah," Julian said.
"What about classical?"
"Some classical is alright," he said.
"Do you like Vivaldi?" I asked.
"Vivaldi's excellent," Julian replied.
"I agree," I said, smiling. We had something in common! "Although," I added, just as I walked out the door, "Vivaldi is baroque, not classical."
Julian rolled his eyes. "You always act like you know everything," he said.
"That's because I do," I replied, and left.
As I walked down the little hallway and back out to the party, I tried to make sense of our conversation and my feelings, which I totally didn't understand. I leaned against the wall, frowning.



“No, no, no, Ellie,” I mumbled to myself, eyes shut. “You don’t like him. You always fight with him. He’s arrogant, he’s patronizing, his eyes are not food, you do not like him. Stop it.”
But why did I keep visiting his MySpace profile every single night?
Why was I disappointed when he didn't turn up to a group outing?
And why, whenever our eyes met across a room, did I quickly avert my gaze, as though embarrassed – and notice him doing exactly the same?
I shook my head vigorously, driving the thoughts from my mind as I walked back into the party room and sat down next to Amelia again.
"Welcome back," Amelia said. "Mystery's moved on to 'My Immortal' now."
"Wonderful," I said.
We both watched Mystery for a minute as she stood there, eyes closed, clasping the microphone in both hands, gently singing.
"She's actually not that bad," I said to Amelia.
"She's had lots of practice," Amelia said. She paused. "You know what I've noticed?" she said, changing the subject. "Hannah still hasn't arrived."
I frowned. "Do you want to call her?" I suggested.
Amelia nodded, and motioned for me to follow her out onto the small balcony attached to the room. Since Hannah didn't have a mobile phone, she called her home number.



I listened as she spoke to her mother. "Hello, Mrs. Reilly? Yeah, it's Amelia Meyer here. Um, we're all at Tia's party and were wondering when Hannah was going to turn up? . . . no, now . . . Tia's party. You know, the Minks? They—sorry?"
Amelia's expression changed suddenly, and I saw her face darken. "You didn't know?. . . well, did Hannah know?. . . you're sure? . . . OK. OK. No, don't tell her. Look, I'm really sorry to bother you, Mrs. Reilly. We—no, no, I'll get it sorted out. We thought she'd been invited. Anyway, I'll take care of it, don't worry. Thanks. . . OK. Bye."
She hung up the phone with a snap. "Hannah was never invited to any party," she told me, in a forcedly calm voice.
"What?" I exclaimed, furious.
"Tia was lying," Amelia confirmed, striding back indoors to where Tia was standing, cigarette in one hand and drink in the other.
Amelia strode right up to her, with me following closely, and stuck a finger in her face. "You lying, insensitive, scheming bitch," Amelia spat.
Mystery stopped singing, staring at the fight that was unfolding.
Tia rolled her eyes and let out a puff of smoke. "What now?"
"You told me you'd invited Hannah," Amelia said quietly. "But you never did any such thing, did you?"
By now everyone had gone quiet. So everyone heard as Tia replied.
She snorted derisively. "God, no," she said. "Why on Earth would I want that fat, spastic zombie at my party? She'd probably just drown in my spa."
Amelia, in a very uncharacteristic spurt of intense fury, snatched Tia's drink from her hands and threw the contents into her face.



Tia was shocked, and stood there for a moment, trying to comb the droplets out of her hair. Everyone else was silent, just watching.
"Thanks for inviting me," Amelia said coldly, and stormed out of the room.
"Yeah, thanks. Crap party," I added, storming out after Amelia. Tia was left in shock, standing in the middle of the group of people she'd invited, devoid of any allies and covered in some kind of alcoholic beverage.