Rosie doesn't need the grounding pressure of Neil's shoulder against hers as much now, but she appreciates the contact anyway, the reassurance of him even as they're turned away from each other. She eases into the evening more: chatting animatedly, mostly with Mark but sometimes as part of the larger group; feeling quietly thrilled at the approving way Mark looks at her and smiles whenever she dares to lean in a bit further or lay a hand on his arm. So often, Rosie had thought about what it would be like, should some boy ever pay her a compliment or even notice her; what she hadn't expected is how powerful it feels to do something similar herself.

Remembering how quickly her first peach crush had gone, Rosie drinks this one more slowly, or tries to. A few times, she steals a sip from Mark's beer. The taste is horrible, but the way it makes him laugh and tease her a little definitely isn't.