Nicolás in his very unsubtle manner gives me some spare cash so Diwa and I have summat more to do than look for cool rocks. It's safe to say that he's expecting a lot more from this friendship than it'll yield. Diwa and I are only friends cause we dislike each other equally.

But whatever, money's money.

I take her to watch some horror film that happens to be on the day before Christmas. It's about demons, appropriately, and turns out neither bad nor good enough to be memorable.

Diwa starts to rant the moment the lights come on as if she didn't grab my arm at every jump scare. I might have fucking bruises!

'And that ending didn't even make any sense. I mean, what's stopping–?'

Diwa cuts herself off.

Honestly, she might've turned to stone with fear or summat cause she halts mid-step and the air around her gets heavy. I don't have to ask about the reason: we've barely stepped out of the theatre before Annabella's stare nails us down.

'Oh.' Arm linked with Jeremy's, the two exchange glances. I wouldn't be surprised if their eyes began to glow red from their hunger for gossip. 'What's this? A date perhaps.'

My nose crinkles. 'Ew. No chance.'

'So you're just friends?'

'What's with the "just"?'

Annabella don't respond. She might forget I exist (if God were real, she would) as her focus glides to Diwa who has finally dressed herself in the outfit we nicked together: Hello Kitty fishnets with a black skirt and a baby pink jumper, well accessorised with a ribbon in both her hair and as a choker around her neck.

I had started to assume she'd returned them but maybe her rebellious spirit is taking tentative steps out of its hibernation nest.

'Diwa, you look... nice.'

Diwa is too stunned to respond until I elbow her and she mutters a thank you.

'See you in school then,' Annabella says, offering Diwa a smile and me a... some sort of facial expression before she and Jeremy continue along the corridor to another screening room.

Diwa looks at her leftover popcorn as though she's never seen owt less appetising. She drags her feet beside me as we exit the cinema into Manchester rain, dropping the bucket into the bin we pass.

Rude! I would've eaten them.

The wind is behind us as we turn toward Gay Village which conveniently keeps our faces relatively dry from rain. Nicolás's opening shift at the club he works at ended half an hour ago but he said he'd wait to drive us home.

'So Annabella gave you a compliment.' I give my hands a theatrical wave as the statement demands. 'That's a big development. Has that changed your thoughts about asking her out?'

Diwa chews on the end of her plait. Okay, now she's eating her own hair... There's definitely summat wrong. I should be serious for a split second and ask her about it.

'I can't ask her out,' Diwa says before I can figure out human empathy. 'What if she's not... you know?'

Despite my desire to provide comfort, all I manage is: 'You're allowed to say "gay". It's not gonna jinx ya.'

The dry humour does nowt to assuage her nerves, so, with an eye roll I only half-heartedly hide, I tack on: 'Only one way to find out.'

'She wouldn't be into me anyway. She don't even like me as a friend or– or a person, much less romantically. And what've I got to offer her anyway?'

'Plenty. Once you get past the impression you give of being entirely obsessed with yourself, you're actually a sound person.'

Diwa's lips don't as much twitch. I doubt she's even listening.

'What's she got to offer you?' I counter.

Peeling her gaze from the wet pavement, Diwa glances at me only to duck from the rain. 'Why do you even care?'

'I don't.' Sticking my hands into my pockets, I hunch. 'I think romance is a stupid waste of time and also literal hell. If you made me be around the same person twenty-four-seven, I'd have to commit homicide.'

Diwa chuckles but under the wind, I can't tell whether it's genuine or sardonic.

I halt, grabbing her arm so she has to turn to me. 'Look, I get that it can be difficult with queerness and adults but your parents will just have to get over it.'

The rain stops her from meeting my eyes until I turn us properly so that I shield her. I stand close enough that she has no choice but to look at me.

'If they have a problem with you being happy then they're shit.'

Diwa drops her head, hair finding its way between her teeth again. 'You don't get it.'

'Maybe not... But I've had Catholic foster parents and gone to Catholic school and all that so I've got some idea.'

Though most of the reasons Mrs Harland (and potentially some of my teachers) thought I was possessed had to do with the violence, trying on her clothes probably didn't help.

I sigh. 'I just mean, if you don't wanna ask Annabella out then don't but don't not do it cause of what your parents would think.'

Diwa is quiet. I've just started to consider the possibility that she might've had a stroke or somehow fallen asleep and entered sleep paralysis when she responds.

'Are you upset?'

'Upset?'

'If Annabella knows we're friends, so will everybody else by the time term picks up again.'

The pinch of termite pincers is immediate. I do my best to brush them off.

'It'll be fine. I'm not worried about being cool or whatever–' Liar. 'It's just... I just... Well, like you said, everyone knows about it now so no point fussing.'

I'm a bad friend. Just think about what happened with Elliot. And Sakda will have to find a way to ruin any crumb of happiness I dare to have—I'm pretty sure we've made a telepathic blood pact about that at some point.

And what about when Diwa finds out I'm insane? And evil? She will find out eventually—not like I do a champion job at hiding it.

I step past her and resume down Sackville Street. We're only a minute from Nicolás.

'I'm not upset,' I say.

Not at her anyway.