it came. I stared into the living room, trying to focus on nothing. There was a half-drunk bottle of wine on the floor next to the sofa and an empty mug. Corinne got a store discount, which increased every day she worked. It was pretty pitiful, but it was the only bonus she got working at that crappy job. When she’d saved enough, she bought wine. I slumped. Sometimes she shouted louder when she’d had wine, or worse, she cried and tried to smother me in sorrys.
“Is it drugs? Are you here for drugs?” Her gazed flicked over us. “Because if it is, leave now . This is my flat, and I won’t hesitate to call the police.”
Thomas moved ever so slightly closer to me, and I wondered if Corinne could smell the sea air on our skin. Hear the half-spoken conversations our bodies seemed to be having whenever they were near each other. Because I could.
Thomas shook his head, not frowning, just nonplussed. “No.”
“How do you know Sasha?”
“From school. We have art together.” Thomas’s arm brushed against mine, but it was so brief I was sure he didn’t mean to.
“At school? The class you were suspended from?” Swiveling her head, she focused her gaze on me, her eyes sharp despite the wine.
Miserably I hung my head. Since I’d been here, I’d never brought one single person back. Corinne had told me plenty of times I could have friends round as long as they didn’t trash the place or break her stuff. There just hadn’t been anyone I’d wanted to invite back before, and I could feel the weight of all that loneliness like a rock on my back.
“We’re friends,” I mumbled.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Thomas nod, all happy and enthusiastic. He was so unlike me, and yet I liked that so much. Him. I liked him so much.
“Oh….” Corinne swallowed, looking contrite. “I’m sorry, Thomas, you must think I’m…. It’s just, well, I’ve been worried and I’ve never met one of Sasha’s friends before,” she babbled. “Would you like a drink, something to eat?”
“No. I’m fine, thank you.”
“We’re just going to my room.” I felt as though that was something a kid would say, but I wanted to be on my own with him.
“You can… I mean, I can go to my room and you can have the living room. There’s nowhere to sit in your room, Sasha.”
I know since I’d been here she’d never meant to be all hard on me—she was just frustrated and I was frustrating—but I could deal with it. I could shut down and deal. It was when she let her kindness shine through that I couldn’t take it. My chest grew tight, as though my ribs were squeezing me smaller and smaller until I’d almost be nonexistent.
“It’s okay. I like my room.”
I pulled Thomas’s sleeve. He followed me as though we were attached.
In my room I flicked the light switch. Once I’d closed and locked the door, I leaned against it. I felt exhausted, and I was sure Thomas wouldn’t want to be here any longer, but he sat down on my bed, giving it an experimental bounce and smiling as he looked around.
“You like Matisse, huh?”
Frowning, I wondered what he was looking at, then saw the leaflet I’d picked up about an exhibition of Matisse’s paper cuts.
“After I saw what your gran did, I was curious.” I shrugged.
“She wants to take me to this. We could both go… if you like?”
Again that hesitancy in his voice. My hands were splayed flat out against the smooth wood veneer of the door. Blood thumped in my ears.
“Why do you like me?”
Thomas stared at me for a moment, then dropped his head and said, “There are a lot of ways I could answer that.”
“Pick one.” I pushed myself away from the door and sat down on the bed next to him.
“I’m not sure you want to hear it.”
I sighed. He was right, and he was wrong about that. I knew I wasn’t being exactly fair, especially after I shot him down earlier by walking off at the beach.
“Are you… gay?” I mumbled.
Sometimes even when you know the
“Is it drugs? Are you here for drugs?” Her gazed flicked over us. “Because if it is, leave now . This is my flat, and I won’t hesitate to call the police.”
Thomas moved ever so slightly closer to me, and I wondered if Corinne could smell the sea air on our skin. Hear the half-spoken conversations our bodies seemed to be having whenever they were near each other. Because I could.
Thomas shook his head, not frowning, just nonplussed. “No.”
“How do you know Sasha?”
“From school. We have art together.” Thomas’s arm brushed against mine, but it was so brief I was sure he didn’t mean to.
“At school? The class you were suspended from?” Swiveling her head, she focused her gaze on me, her eyes sharp despite the wine.
Miserably I hung my head. Since I’d been here, I’d never brought one single person back. Corinne had told me plenty of times I could have friends round as long as they didn’t trash the place or break her stuff. There just hadn’t been anyone I’d wanted to invite back before, and I could feel the weight of all that loneliness like a rock on my back.
“We’re friends,” I mumbled.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Thomas nod, all happy and enthusiastic. He was so unlike me, and yet I liked that so much. Him. I liked him so much.
“Oh….” Corinne swallowed, looking contrite. “I’m sorry, Thomas, you must think I’m…. It’s just, well, I’ve been worried and I’ve never met one of Sasha’s friends before,” she babbled. “Would you like a drink, something to eat?”
“No. I’m fine, thank you.”
“We’re just going to my room.” I felt as though that was something a kid would say, but I wanted to be on my own with him.
“You can… I mean, I can go to my room and you can have the living room. There’s nowhere to sit in your room, Sasha.”
I know since I’d been here she’d never meant to be all hard on me—she was just frustrated and I was frustrating—but I could deal with it. I could shut down and deal. It was when she let her kindness shine through that I couldn’t take it. My chest grew tight, as though my ribs were squeezing me smaller and smaller until I’d almost be nonexistent.
“It’s okay. I like my room.”
I pulled Thomas’s sleeve. He followed me as though we were attached.
In my room I flicked the light switch. Once I’d closed and locked the door, I leaned against it. I felt exhausted, and I was sure Thomas wouldn’t want to be here any longer, but he sat down on my bed, giving it an experimental bounce and smiling as he looked around.
“You like Matisse, huh?”
Frowning, I wondered what he was looking at, then saw the leaflet I’d picked up about an exhibition of Matisse’s paper cuts.
“After I saw what your gran did, I was curious.” I shrugged.
“She wants to take me to this. We could both go… if you like?”
Again that hesitancy in his voice. My hands were splayed flat out against the smooth wood veneer of the door. Blood thumped in my ears.
“Why do you like me?”
Thomas stared at me for a moment, then dropped his head and said, “There are a lot of ways I could answer that.”
“Pick one.” I pushed myself away from the door and sat down on the bed next to him.
“I’m not sure you want to hear it.”
I sighed. He was right, and he was wrong about that. I knew I wasn’t being exactly fair, especially after I shot him down earlier by walking off at the beach.
“Are you… gay?” I mumbled.
Sometimes even when you know the
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