My hands are shaking a bit. I'm going to write until they stop.
The others have been doing this properly for a while. I could tell. There's a way people move when they know what they're doing, a kind of ease that doesn't announce itself, and they had it and I was finding my feet and trying not to show that I was finding my feet.
The power didn't cooperate. It rarely does under observation. I got something — a movement, a proper one, deliberate — and then the next four attempts were nothing and I could feel the room adjusting around me, the way rooms do when something is being politely noted.
The father was there for the first half. He left before the end. I don't know what that means. I've been turning it over and I don't know.
Rhys was in the hall when I came out. He said: 'First one's the worst.' Then he went back to whatever he was doing. I don't know if that's true but I'm going to assume it is until proven otherwise.