Mills rests her back against the lockers during break on Wednesday and smiles at me. “Fancy a trip to Dundrum after school to mooch around the shops and grab some food? Come on, Ames, it’ll be fun.”

I think about it for a second. We haven’t gone shopping, just the two of us, for ages. I have enough babysitting money stashed in my wallet to pay for some eats, and so long as Mum doesn’t mind, why not? It would be nice to spend some time with Mills, alone. I’m happy for her, honestly I am — Bailey’s great — but I do miss us.

I smile back at her. “I was going to hang out with Seth, but he won’t mind. Girls’ day out, yeah! Like you say, it’ll be fun.”

A shadow crosses Mills’s face. “I thought the boys could come too. You know, a double date.”

I make a pained noise. “A double date? Mills, are you deranged? Seth would rather die than go on a double date. Was this Bailey’s idea? Is Bailey-wailey dying to go on a double date?” Mills and her whole Otis obsession is bringing out the worst in me.

Her face flares up. “Why are you being so mean, Amy? And don’t say anything to Bailey. It was my idea, OK? I just thought it would be nice to spend some time together, the four of us.” She looks genuinely upset, which makes me feel a bit guilty.

“I suppose it could be all right,” I say slowly.

She brightens. “Do you think Seth would be up for it?”

“I’ll ask him.”

“Thanks, Ames. And I promise I’ll never utter the words ‘double date’ again as long as I live.” She crosses her heart with her finger. “Or couples’ day.”

I shake my head and sigh. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that one.”

“So how’s the double date going for you so far?” I whisper on the rare occasion Mills is not clinging to Bailey’s arm like a limpet.

“Shush,” she hisses, looking around frantically. “He might hear you.”

We’re in Music City, and the boys are poring over the CD racks, checking out the latest releases. I’d much rather be in Zara or H&M checking out their latest releases, but Mills insisted. “We love Music City, don’t we, Ames?” she said when Bailey suggested it, and gave me a loaded look.

“Certainly do,” I agreed. “Can’t wait to rummage through the rails. I mean, racks.” Seth gave me a funny look but didn’t say anything.

Bailey and Seth have moved toward the listening posts and clamped two sets of headphones over their ears, so I take the opportunity to talk to Mills properly. “Why are you pretending you hate clothes shopping?” I ask her. “Seth is baffled. The last time he came to Dundrum with us, you spent two hours trying on dresses in Zara.”

She clutches my arm. “Amy, keep your voice down.”

I roll my eyes and point at Bailey, who is nodding his head in time to the music, eyes shut and a look of concentration on his face. “He’s so engrossed in his tunes, a herd of elephants could stampede in here and he wouldn’t notice. But, Mills, seriously, you have to stop trying to be someone you’re not.”

Her eyes go all wide and scared. “But if he finds out what I’m really like, he’ll break up with me.”

“What? That you like shopping? Mills, Bailey’s not that fickle, surely. And if he is, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

Mills fiddles with the old leather waistcoat of Dave’s that she’s borrowed off me. (It’s her new “rock chick” look and is designed to impress Bailey.) “That’s OK for you to say. You’re not going out with the cutest boy in school.”

I stare at her. “Hello? Seth’s no slacker in the looks department.”

“Sorry, I know. But you don’t understand the pressure.” She gives another breathy sigh.

OK, now my skin is starting to prickle with irritation. Before I have a chance to say anything, though, she continues, “Do you think the boys would prefer pizza or burgers?”

“What do you want to eat, Mills?”

“I’m easy. I’ll let the boys decide.”

“Amelia Starr,” I say sternly, “our great-great-grandmothers did not chain themselves to railings or burn their bras so that you could be such a girlie marshmallow. You make a decision. Pizza or burgers?”

She hesitates, her eyes big and startled like a deer caught in headlights. “Um . . . um . . . pizza,” she stammers. “No . . . no . . . burgers.”

“I’ll accept your first answer. Pizza it is.”

“But what if Bailey—”

I cut her off. “Then he’ll have to put up with it.”

“Who’ll have to put up with it?” Seth asks, appearing beside us. Bailey is nowhere to be seen.

“Nothing,” Mills says quickly.

“Fancy a pizza?” I ask him.

He smiles and nods easily. “Sure. Bailey was just saying he’d kill for a pepperoni special.”

I smile at Mills smugly, but she’s distracted. “Where’s Bailey?” she asks Seth, looking panicked. “He hasn’t gone home, has he?”

“Patience, Grasshopper,” Seth says, giving me a wink. He knows it’s one of my expressions. I stole it from Clover.

A few seconds later, Bailey reappears swinging a small Music City bag on his index finger. He hands it to Mills. “Present,” he says simply.

Mills’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “For me?” She pulls a CD out of the bag. “The new Glee. Thanks, Bailey.” Her face drops. “But you hate Glee. You say they murder perfectly good songs.”

He shrugs. “Yeah. But I know you dig that happy-clappy musicals stuff. I’ve checked out your iPod.” He gives her a wide smile. “You can run, Mills, but you can’t hide.”

Mills’s cheeks go scarlet. “I like other stuff too,” she mumbles. “Like the Golden Lions and, um, the Red Hot Chili People.”

Bailey grins and throws his arm over her shoulders. “Now, did I hear someone say pizza? Come on, my little cheerleader,” he tells her in a mock American accent. “You can torture me with some cheesy Glee songs on the way.”

A Piece of Rome is hopping, but we manage to get a small table in the corner. Once we’ve ordered, Seth leans in to me. “Sorry I don’t have the moolah to get you anything,” he says.

“That’s OK,” I say, and then noticing that Mills and Bailey are holding hands across the table, I roll my eyes at him.

He smiles. “Rock, paper, scissors, Bailey?” he says, holding out a closed fist.

Bailey looks over at him, his eyes suddenly dark. “What? Now?”

Seth puts his hands up in the air. “Only joking, mate. Just trying to reclaim your digits from Mills the human octopus. You’ll need them to eat.”

Bailey still doesn’t look impressed, but Mills is smiling. “Not funny, Seth,” she says, punching him on the shoulder.

Seth puts his hands around his throat and pretends that a monster is dragging him to the floor.

“Hellupp, hellupp,” he squeals. “I’m being eaten by Mills the human octopus.”

It’s ridiculous but hilarious, and we all start laughing — even, to my relief, Bailey. Everyone is staring at us, but we don’t care. I’m laughing so much, tears are rolling down my cheeks, and Bailey is giving big whoopy belly laughs while Mills is trying to look indignant.

“Stop laughing, Bailey,” Mills says — but even she’s holding her stomach from all the giggling.

Finally Seth stops, and I gulp in deep breaths and try to stop chuckling too.

“You nearly got us all thrown out, man.” Bailey grins.

Seth shrugs. “Can’t help being such a born comedian.”

I groan. “See what I have to put up with? You’re delusional, Seth.”

“But you love me anyway.” He grabs a bread stick, breaks it in half, and sticks the pieces under his top lip. “Marry me, Bella.”

I start laughing again. “Seth, stop! I can’t take any more. My stomach is killing me.”

In the bus on the way home, Mills and I share a seat so the boys can sit together and listen to Bailey’s iPod. (He always carries a spare set of headphones in case Mills wants them — barf!) It’s strangely sweet seeing the boys bobbing their heads in time to the same song.

I nudge Mills with my shoulder. “Enjoy the double date?”

“I wish every day could be like today. And you?”

“Best day ever.” I put my head on her shoulder, and we both sigh blissfully.