Page 65 of Freshman

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “I…”

“Shhh,” Nate said. “Breathe.”

Alfie knocked his head to the wall, closed his eyes and slowed his breathing so he could at least get back to his feet and escape Nate’s pull. He hurried away and made enough noise that it was obvious he was leaving.

“What was the hold-up?” Henry asked.

“Oh,” Alfie swallowed. “Rick in cell 147 was complaining about the roaches in his cell.”

“Roaches.” Henry smirked. “He should count himself lucky; there’s rats as big as cats in the ground floor cells.”

“As big as cats?” Glen said. “I don’t believe it.”

“I swear on my life,” Henry said.

Alfie perched on the desk, listening to Glen and Henry as they went back and forth in their argument. He stole glances at the clock above the office door, willing time to go faster and relieve him of the tension that being near Nate built within him.

His lips tingled; he could still taste Nate, and he hated that he wanted more.

He hated that when Nate asked him to open the door, a part of him had been tempted.

Nate didn’t ask Alfie to open the hatch, and he didn’t bring up what had happened between them for the rest of the week. Alfie stopped in front of cell 150, asked for the prisoner’s name, and ticked a box once the right name was given.

That was how it always should’ve been, but Alfie had crossed lines.

Unforgivable lines.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he left Larkwood after his final shift of the week. Saturday, predictably, he spent in bed, recovering from the night shift hours, and on Sunday, instead of catching a bus to visit Tia at the café, he texted her to say he had a cold and didn’t want to risk spreading it to her.

He hated to lie, but he didn’t want to face her questions over Liam, and it was easier to stay hauled up in his bed for the weekend.

That afternoon, he was woken by a persistent press of his doorbell. He groaned, stumbled out of bed, and plodded down the stairs.

Before he answered, he took a deep breath in preparation for Tia drilling him with questions.

He swung the door open, “Hey—”

A pizza box was shoved into his chest, and he blinked in confusion. He looked up at the delivery man dressed all in red.

“I didn’t order this.”

The man shrugged. “This is the address that was given. It’s all been paid for.”

Alfie shook his head. “But it’s not mine.”

“I’m going to be late for my next call. Do you want it or not?”

Alfie took it from his hands and stood statue still in the doorway. The delivery man rushed to his bike and took off down the road. Alfie closed the door with his foot and moved toward the sofa. The smell of pizza woke his stomach, and it bubbled with impatience.

Alfie settled the box on the coffee table, then flicked the lid back, braced for the pizza to explode. His mouth flooded at the sight of melted cheese and the smell of fatty junk food. There was a yellow post-it inside the lid, covered in spots of grease. Alfie narrowed his eyes to read the words.

Eat up, Freshman.

Alfie rubbed at his head with a groan, and his stomach responded with its own pitiful whine. He thought about throwing out the pizza, Nate might have laced it with poison, but his gut demanded he at least sniff it to see if it was dangerous. It didn’t smell suspicious or look it. It was in the correct box, came with a delivery driver, and the handwriting on the post-it was pretty, more likely from a woman than a man. Nate hadn’t had any contact with the pizza; he just ordered it and got someone on the outside to pay for it.

Alfie pulled a slice up and nipped his lip at the tantalising strings of cheese. He couldn’t resist biting into the slice, and his mouth flooded with saliva.

His stomach and his sluggish brain both agreed it was the best pizza he had ever tasted, and it would be a shame to throw it away.

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