That night was the first night, Arthur Cuthbertson featured in my dreams. The first night I dreamt of him, and the first time I woke up at six thirty more than happy to escape my bed. Driving to school Sam had with repressed glee alerted me to the fact the guys wanted to get together and talk about the whole singing/performance thing. I'd internally groaned at the idea but smiled pleasantly, telling him I was open to ideas. The day past quickly, probably due to the fact Arthur wasn't there; each lesson flowed into the next- in business I'd finished unit one totally (with a distinction!), English my course work only had a couple of changes, and well Religion was boring. We were moving on to the cave analogy mixed with the forms, something I'd very easily understood back home- the only glimmer of hope was after the lectures we had a pairs activity that would take us through a couple of weeks, Sam had caught my eye at this to which I'd winked back. After school I was destined to be in the main hall, April had booked the space so we could start some planning.

'So…' She said when we were all together. 'I think that maybe we should hear you sing?' She looked at me, making the tone of her statement more like a question. I'd looked down at the floor, watching my converse instead of their faces- knowing it was inevitable if I was going to perform.

'Right.' I stood up, brushing some invisible lint from my jeans.

'Just think we're in the car!' Sam said helpfully, smiling at me encouragingly.

'What song?'

'Cher- I found someone.' I answered Fran, this is my go to song- it's my favourite I love the words, the tune, the emotion- and I knew there and then I wanted to impress my new friends.

'You sure?' She asked smiling.

'Positive.'

I made my way up to the stage, feeling all my friends' eyes on me- Fran handed me a microphone, a simple black basic one. I wiped my hands on my jeans and took a firm grip of the black baton- steeling myself for the song. I'd been singing this song for longer than I can remember, it was one of the Witch's favourites and as much as I hated her the song stuck in my head and became one of my all-time favourites.

'Ready?'

'Always.'

As the lights flickered onto me and my friends all disappeared into the blinding light, I felt myself relax. My breath came easy, and I brought the microphone up to my mouth with an unshaking hand. This was just like any other performance I'd done back home; it was as easy as jamming with Sam in the car. The words flowed out of me, as the song wound on and on; the highs were my favourite where my voice was most free. As a kid I always wanted to be a singer, and people had said I had promise but growing up I realised I didn't want to be a star; singing for me was for the joy of singing- nothing more and nothing less. As my confidence bloomed on the stage, I got braver remembering back when I'd done the talents shows; my voice grew powerful, my moves more buoyant- I felt like a star, shining so very, very bright. As the song ended, I felt the old me slip into place; and I looked back down at my chucks.

'Go Kate!' I heard them cheer, and as the lights dimmed I saw them on their feet; even Fran who was sticking her head out of the control booth.

'Where did you learn that?'

'Girl got sass!'

They were all so complementary, all slapping me on the back and hugging me; the bated excitement visible in their whispers of joy and the tangible feel of emotion in the room.

'We've got it this year!' Annie said, smiling brightly at me.

The rest of the hour flowed by. The girls dance was pretty, and the art and music the boys were putting together showed promise but just by the way they looked at me I knew they thought of me as their best hope to bringing home the crown. Cath was beyond ecstatic that I was singing in the show, she was like a broken record as she kept repeating how much she believed in me and why I was going to be her star.

The following evening, after an exhausting meeting with the guys Cath told me she'd invited her best friend Denise around for tea; and that Denise had a son who I'd played with as a child. For the most part my childhood before Barcelona is a blank apart from a few memories that are of little importance.

'Oh you and Charlie were together all the time when you were around here, inseparable you were!' She said while leaning over the cooker.

'I honestly can't place him…'

'He was a stocky little one, a right chunk.'

'Nope nothing…maybe when I see him…' I said trying to play friendly when really I could think of nothing worse than reminiscing of old times, when I had absolutely no clue.

Denise, a short plump woman of her mid-forties, acted as though she'd seen me last week; not even stopping like the usual adult to tell me how nice it is to see me. Charlie on the other hand couldn't stop staring at me. Tall and sweet looking, muscle that somehow didn't match his build.

'So…I'm having so much trouble placing you! Cath was saying how we used to play together as kids but honestly I just can't remember!'

'We used to play swing, I used to push you…'

'Aww it sounds sweet.' I laughed somewhat awkwardly.

'This is how we became friends, you know?'

'Huh?'

'We were thrown together like this, while my mum worked.'

'Oh.' Was all I had for a reply.

Somehow or another an awkward volley of conversation ran its course, and before long both Charlie and I had given the other an autobiography of our lives; and once the awkwardness subsided somewhat I found I did like Charlie and the easy way in which he let conversation flow.

'So I'm pretty sure we don't go to the same school?'

'Yeah I go to the one down Layton street, hopefully I can move up the college next year.'

'Oh so your not in sixth form?'

'No year eleven.'

'Wow I thought you were at least my age, Cath made it out that you were older.'

'I was bigger- FYI meaning fatter, but no I still have the glorious privilege of doing my GCSE's.'

'They aren't that bad.' I said, although why I stood up for education I have no idea.

'Yeah, yeah…so your first year right?'

'First year and if I had my way last year- it's the pits.'

'That bad eh?'

'My friends are fine, it's just urgh some of the people.'

'Cuthbertson?'

'Yeah!'

'He's a total tosser but just stay out his way, he doesn't come down our way.'

'Why?'

'I honestly have no idea.'

The night passed on with the quickness of easy familiarity, Cath broke out a bottle of wine after the meal which was only slightly overcooked and the calamity of the company made me feel closer to home. Cath's laughter got ever so much louder as the night wore on and the bottle of wine became three; her and Denise made a good coupling, constantly having me and Charlie in stitches.

'So I'll see you soon?' Charlie said as he led Denise out of the door to the waiting taxi.

'Yeah, we can't leave them can we!'