Page 60 of Second Song

“The white noise? Nope.”

The line for hot dogs shuffles forward as they keep talking, and I hear familiar phrases like blast damage, pitch, and frequency while we get closer to our supper, but I’m also aware that I’m under scrutiny. Or rather, all three of us are.

My new headmaster stands with Dom. Luke meets my gaze before it flicks slightly sideways to Teo. Then he meets my eyes again, and it’s a good thing I’ve learned to read small smiles—Luke’s more pleased than he’s showing, maybe not wanting to draw attention to someone who’s joining in for once instead of avoiding contact.

And Teo really is. There’s nothing grudging about his responses to Liam’s questions. “Why am I interested? Need to be if I’m gonna be a producer or a sound engineer one day, innit.”

As for Maisie’s daddy? He watches Liam, who chooses that moment to capitulate, holding out both hands to take Teo up on his offer. He puts on the headphones, only to shake his head before Teo pulls out his phone, which must be Bluetooth connected.

And Liam?

He goes still.

“That’s…” His expression does something complex before he pulls off the headphones. “What was it?”

“A mix of brown noise and sound cancelling. Not full-on sound cancelling.” Teo takes his headphones back and cradles them. “Transparency mode, see? You should still be able to hear what’s going on around you.” He looks up from them, nothing defensive in this eye contact. If anything, he’s hopeful. “Could you hear, or were you locked in?”

“No, I could hear.” Liam’s so, so gritty. “Why brown noise?”

“It’s a different frequency than white. Lower, I think. I dunno.” Teo shows him his phone. “Look? This playlist says it’s softer. You got GarageBand on your phone? That’s what I mix the levels with. Not as good as a pro console.”

I can picture the studio monitors he means, the ones I had access to at a school with so many more resources that Glynn Harber. Now Teo sounds almost wary, and I should know. It’s like looking in that bathroom mirror when Liam told me I had goose bumps. “It really sounded better?”

Liam takes the headphones once more. “The tinnitus is still there. Probably always will be, but yeah, it…” Liam’s still gritty, and maybe when we first met, I would have thought him unaffected. Or about as soft as granite. Now I see he’s doing his best to blink away sudden brightness, struggling to hold on to his composure like I once struggled to hold a lamb without him.

Liam lowered a rope for me that time. Tonight, I get to save him.

“Hey, Teo?” I think fast. “How’s your friend getting on in France?”

Teo launches into a description of a trip that I only half-listen to. It’s hard to focus when Liam’s white-knuckled hold on the headphones loosens. One of his hands brushes against mine, my little finger hooked by his. This squeeze spells a quick thank you, and his next question is less gravelly. It’s also brutally honest. “This can’t fix me, but show me what you did on that app, will you?”

Teo does just that while we’re surrounded by the kind of school-based social I used to slam a practice-room door closed on. Now I kick a stray football back onto the school field, and older students call out, “Thanks, Mr. Byrn,” while younger ones show off their hot dogs to me as the sun dips lower and I tell my goose bumps to fuck off.

It’s a nice evening.

Golden.

So is Charles. The last of the sunlight catches his hair as he waves from a picnic table, a toddler just as fair as him on his lap, and I…

I fit here.

Maybe that’s down to the padre serving me three hot dogs and murmuring a quiet, “Bless you for not giving up on him,” as if I’ve done something special by bringing Teo along with us. Or maybe he means Liam when the only effort I’ve made with him this evening has been horizontal. And amazing. I’m still tingling with what we did, but I also get a blast of warmth from Charles calling me over.

He pats the bench, eyeing my tray. “Someone’s hungry. Been busy building an appetite, have we?”

He’s joking. I can see it even as the evening sun leaves him and his little boy haloed. He isn’t wrong though. I’m starving even as I tell him, “They’re not all for me.” I turn to wave the others over, only Teo’s busy adjusting the headphones Liam has put back on, taking the same kind of care with their fit as Liam did with my hard hat. I don’t want to interrupt that, so I set down the tray and then take a huge first bite while still standing. The sound of appreciation I let out is a reminder of other notes I hit back in the stables.

Charles laughs. “There really is nothing like a juicy after-school sausage, is there? Speaking of”—he points his hot dog in Liam’s direction—“is your boyfriend joining us?”

Boyfriend can’t be the right word for someone who’ll leave soon.

Can it?

Charles also tickles his toddler’s tummy, who laughs like a drain. Those gurgles are infectious, and I can’t keep in my own laugh. Of course it comes out as wildly as usual lately, surprising a table full of students on one side of us and workmen on the other, but Liam?

He swings around, searching like he could pick me out with zero trouble, even while wearing headphones.

He doesn’t smile when he spots me. He doesn’t need to. I can read him just fine regardless. I sit down in a hurry then, immediately regretting dropping so hard onto the bench after what we just did together, hoping Charles didn’t notice.

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