Read Online 100 Days of April-May by Edyth Bulbring - Free Book Online Page B

two unseasonable and discordant parents. The last time I saw him was more than a year ago – as he tumbled down from the roof of Trinity College. It was the disastrous end to a crazy escapade that nearly got me expelled and caused my friend Melly to get concussion and sprain her ankle.
    â€˜How’s the leg?’
    â€˜Legs,’ Sebastian says with mournful glee. The fall from Trinity College’s roof rewarded him with a shattered thigh bone in one leg and a broken ankle in the other.
    â€˜I limp. I think I’ll limp for the rest of my life.’
    â€˜Cool,’ I say.
    â€˜Yeah, I find release from my pain through my music.’
    â€˜Cool,’ I say. Then I smack myself in the face because I sound like a linguistically challenged person (Britney or Tiffney or Stephney).
    â€˜Meet the other member of my band,’ Sebastian says.
    The other member of Sebastian’s band emerges from the shadows and I nearly choke on my golf ball. It’s Fatty. He is no god. And his face is dark with dislike at the sight in front of him – that’s me.
    I see the gods are testing me.
    â€˜Hey,’ I say to Fatty. And I look at him properly, so that his shape attaches itself to my cornea. I see him for the first time in more than three months.
    â€˜Hey,’ says Fatty, and he looks back at me like he is also seeing me for the first time – which is a bit weird because as far as I know he hasn’t made any blood-pacts with the gods.
    I suck in my chest and summon all my cordial powers. ‘I heard you singing. You have a good voice.’ Realising ‘good voice’ might show a lack of commitment to the pact I reboot the expression on my face, retune my vocal cords and add, ‘Magical.’
    Nameless Dog agrees. He leaps into Fatty’s lap and buries his nose in his trouser pockets. After a lot of tussling and snuffling he emerges with a sandwich. Fatty allows Nameless Dog to run away with his sandwich to the safe spot by the swings.
    â€˜What’s the dog’s name?’ Fatty asks.
    I catch Sebastian staring at Fatty and me with his pale-green eyes. But mostly he is staring at me. I want to say, ah, stop staring at me like that, you make me feel shy, but the golf ball does its thing in my throat and I make a sound like, ‘Ahhhhsssstttostaaare …’
    â€˜Alistair? Did you say Alistair?’ Fatty says. ‘It means “protector”. That’s an awesome name for a dog. Alistair The Awesome-ist. It suits him.’
    When I hear Fatty’s speaking voice I realise that it’s the first time I’ve really heard it. It’s not a big voice to match his size. Or like his singing voice which is warm and solemn. It’s small and gentle and cracked.
    Nameless Dog returns and sits at Fatty’s feet. He does not chew them or sniff them or try and use the takkie laces as dental floss; he just closes his eyes like he’s discovered his slice of heaven.
    â€˜This is the awesome-ist dog I have ever met,’ Fatty says.
    â€˜He’s mine,’ I say, but I pull my mouth into a smile and give the word mine a gentle lilt at the end, just in case the gods are listening. I tell Fatty that Nameless Dog is a compulsive eater and uses food to self-soothe as he had a very tragic childhood and feels worthless and angry.
    Fatty nods and says, ‘I know how he feels.’ And then he scratches Nameless Dog on his tummy.
    Sebastian is still staring at me, so I stare back and find myself drowning in his eyes. He asks me how Trinity College is doing and I say that as he can see it’s still standing – which is very lame and I am so wishing that he would stop staring at me because everything that comes out of my mouth is stupid and dumb and irrational (and cruel evidence that Sebastian still has a kinky effect on me).
    I ask Sebastian how he likes boarding school (dumb question) and he says that it’s just school, but his