When Susan included the question about love on the survey she and Nina put together, she hadn't known what to expect. About half the answers were utterly useless. When you know, you'll know and the like. Where's the objectivity in that? The clear distinction?

Some responses were a little more illuminating. You will know if this person's wellbeing becomes your foremost priority floats through her mind now, as she kisses him and thinks, fleetingly, of the conversation she'd had with Laertes a week earlier, about being and having the sort of friends they deserve.

Everything else aside - all of her questions; all of her frustration with understanding her own feelings; all of her own discomfort with briefly being in Thomas's body and then returning to her own - she has enough clarity to recognize one thing as specifically true. "I prefer you, too," she says, her words half-swallowed by his mouth.