Page 87 of Freshman

Alfie needed to get rid of them.

“What’s your favourite brand of cigarettes?”

Ben and Dan’s attention snapped to him.

“Camel,” Dan said. “It’s smooth and rich.”

Ben shook his head. “I prefer Dunhill with its hint of sweetness.”

Dan scrunched his face, then nodded. “It’s good as a treat, but if you want a long-lasting hit of tobacco, then Camel.”

“Not sure about that. Camel can be a bit dry,” Ben muttered.

Dan scoffed and shook his head. “Dry?”

“Yeah, dry…”

Dan frowned, shuffled in his seat, then coughed. “All’s quiet. Just going to head out for a smoke.”

Ben nodded in agreement. “Yeah, me too.”

Two down. Alfie turned back to Marie and Glen, but he didn’t need to coax them into leaving. Marie was leading Glen out by the tie. She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip and beckoned with her chin for Glen to follow. He went like a love-struck puppy and didn’t appear to feel it when his hip clipped the doorframe on his way out.

Alfie sprung up from his chair and waved his hand in front of Henry’s face. He continued to breathe softly, and there was no twitch to his frail features.

Alfie grimaced as he opened the gate, praying no one would hear. His squeakless shoes allowed him to sneak to the stairs, and he climbed up as carefully as possible. He couldn’t hear any movement in any of the cells, and he drifted past Queenie’s with a wince.

Alfie knelt and scrunched up his face as he slipped the key in the hatch to look. There was a clunk, and he waited for Nate to stir, to say something, but he didn’t.

Alfie lowered the hatch and stared into the dark cell. The outside lights shone on the bed, and Alfie could see Nate’s bare back and a sheet barely covering his hip. He lay facing the wall, and Alfie couldn’t tell if his chest was moving.

He was still, too still.

“Nate?” he whispered.

There was no answer, and Alfie bit down hard on his lip. He turned and peeked over the railing to the lobby, then stood and slotted his other key into the cell door. He twisted it slowly. Breathing heavier each second, he hesitated. Then he pushed on the door and slipped through the gap he’d made for himself. He waited for Nate to turn onto his back and look in his direction, but it didn’t happen.

Alfie stepped carefully over to Nate’s bed, overly aware of the sound of his feet and his staggered breathing, then shook Nate’s shoulder, whispering his name.

Nate lurched into consciousness with a growl, and Alfie yelped, tumbling back. He landed on the floor with Nate on top of him. He fought, but Nate was heavier and easily stronger. Alfie squeaked when a hand tightened around his neck, and he slapped his palms onto Nate’s bare chest.

The fierce expression on Nate’s face froze, mid-growl.

Then he blinked.

Alfie’s heart thundered, and his lungs ached from the weight crushing him.

Nate widened his eyes and loosened his grip around Alfie’s throat. “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed.

Alfie rolled onto his side and rubbed his throat. “I was worried.”

Nate gripped Alfie’s elbow and helped him to his feet. He led him to the bed, and they sat side by side. The surprise on Nate’s face would’ve been funny had Alfie not been gulping as quietly as he could for breath.

Nate rubbed soothing circles on his back while he got his breathing under control. The warmth of his palm soaked through Alfie’s shirt, and he unconsciously leaned back into the touch.

“Why are you worried?”

“You’ve been in your cell all day. Doris, she’s the only person you have on the outside.”

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