‘We’ve been reading the reviews you’ve written this week and there’s one that stands out.’
My heart pounds. ‘Which one?’
‘The debut album of that four-piece from Wigan. We wanted to tell you we’ve decided to run it.’
‘Run it?’
‘Print it in the magazine,’ he explains.
‘Will it have my name on it?’
‘Of course! You wrote it.’
It’s only 150 words and will sit among hundreds of other album reviews but I’m made up.
‘You’ll be a published writer!’ gushes Tumi. ‘At sixteen.’
‘We’ve been really impressed with your enthusiasm and hard work over the last couple of weeks,’ says Paul. ‘We’ve got a proposition for you. How would you like to come back in the summer for an internship?’
My stomach flips.
Nathan comes over that night to watch a documentary about legendary recording studios. We sit side by side on the couch, electricity fizzing between us as we watch back-to-back episodes. For almost three hours, we hardly speak or move and I’m almost relieved when his dad messages to say he’s coming to get him.
I walk Nathan out to the hall.
‘Have you got a ticket for Beatland yet?’ he asks, tying his shoelaces.
‘No, have you?’
‘Yeah, a group of us got some, but Rhianna’s parents won’t let her go now, so there’s a spare ticket if you want it.’
A little buzz of excitement hums through me. ‘Really?’
‘Yeah, talk to Ella. I’ll add you to the group.’
He pulls out his phone and taps away at it. A few seconds later, mine buzzes: Nathan has added you to the group ‘Beatland or die!’
More tapping.
Nathan:Ella – Liv might take the spare ticket. Persuade her!
He stands. ‘Moon Illusion are playing now, too.’
‘Are they?’ It would be an absolute dream come true to see Moon Illusion at Beatland with Nathan Hall.
‘Yeah.’ He’s kind of in my personal space.
‘Great.’ I have to lift my chin to look at him; he’s so close.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and his is buzzing, too.
‘I hope you take that ticket.’
Suddenly, his lips are on mine. I panic – what if Dad comes out here? He pushes his tongue into my mouth. I try to relax and kiss him back while our phones buzz in unison.
His phone buzzes on its own and we break apart, breathless.
He checks the message. ‘My dad’s outside.’