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to think I was a total freak. Why did Ruth do this to me? What was her problem? Then the anger arrived, like a late dinner party guest, and it pushed away any other emotion I was feeling.
    I opened my mouth to speak.
    “Actually,” I said, spitting the words out, full of aggression, “I didn’t pass out.” I fixed my eyes on his. “I suppose you’re used to girls losing consciousness whenever you even look at them, and therefore assume you’re responsible for my little…episode. But you’re wrong. And, to be honest, it’s weirdly cocky of you to even
imagine
you could be to blame. I suffer from panic attacks. It’s a common physiological problem I have no control over, keep very secret, and is, quite frankly, nobody’s business.” I turned to face Ruth, who was staring at me all agog. “It’s not something I like to share with the world…just my dearest friends,” I said, imitating her sickly sweet voice.
    “Ruth, of course, knows about this. And when I was collapsing at the beginning of your set, she used it as an opportunity to take my place nearer the front row so she could hit on you. And, as my
real
friends held my hair back outside while I was sick,” I said, pointing towards an equally surprised Lizzie and Amanda, “she was elbowing her way to your side.”
    I took more breath, refusing to let my courage subside until I’d finished.
    “Anyway, I’m sure this is all very amusing to you both. Why don’t you just go off and enjoy how
hilarious
it is that Ruth’s stupid friend had a panic attack.”
    I was quite certain I sounded mad, but the anger kept the words tumbling out of my mouth like sick.
    “Anyway, on that note, I’m going to go home now. Ruth, in the future, can you please refrain from using my illness as a pulling method?”
    I turned on my heels and made for the door, forcing myself not to break into a run. In one last moment of courage or madness – whatever you want to call it – I turned back and examined the stunned looks on their faces.
    “Oh, and watch out,” I added. “She’s had chlamydia twice.”
    And I flicked my head round and walked out into the night.

Dr. Anita Beaumont listened to her heels clacking on the polished floor as she made her way down the corridor to the laboratory. She was in a bad mood, a really bad mood. She’d already planned to take it out on her assistants. How dare they beep her on a Saturday? Didn’t they know how important she was? She’d given those idiots her beeper number for emergencies only. What could possibly be an emergency on a Saturday afternoon while she was having a manicure?
    The click of her shoes echoed loudly, bouncing off the clinical white walls. They only had a skeleton crew at weekends and most of the building was empty. She held her swipe card to a wall and a door appeared from nowhere. She turned left through it, looking down at her half-finished nails and cursing herself for hiring that new assistant. He was much too eager to impress, too earnest. He was straight out of college and excited to be working somewhere so secret, so important – a place where he could make his childhood superhero fantasies a reality. He would soon realize how hard it was. He’d probably only beeped her to show off some minor accomplishment so she could pat him on the head and praise him like a schoolkid. What was his name again? It was something ridiculous. River? No, that wasn’t it. Storm? Nope. Oh yes, she remembered with a wry grin. Rain. His name was Rain, poor guy. His parents used to be hippies apparently.
    Dr. Beaumont reached the end of the corridor and faced another security door. She held her card up again and a computer keyboard slid out from another hidden compartment. She quickly keyed in the password – smiling to herself as she tapped out the letters. S…O…U…L…M…A…T…E.
    A blue laser took a retina scan before the security door glided open. She walked briskly into the lab.
    “I hope this isn’t a huge