Page 112 of Off the Pitch

Kit

“Fuck me! That’s massive.” David stared up at the hole in the ceiling of my living room. “Shit, I didn’t think it was this bad.”

“Did you think I’d been joking?”

“Well no, but I didn’t think it would be that bad.” He shook his head and followed me out through the kitchen into the courtyard, slumping down into one of the terrible plastic lawn chairs we’d squished into the tiny space. “No offence, but you do have a tendency to exaggerate sometimes.”

“That may be true, but on this occasion I was not.” I handed him a Magnum ice cream, which I’d offered as bribery to extract him from Christian’s house. David was deep into PhD thesis writing and getting him out of the house was proving to be increasingly difficult. I was incredibly surprised he’d come to the pub with us last week, although he’d confessed that sometimes writing while tipsy actually helped.

It was all very Hemingway.

But I’d desperately wanted to talk to him, so I used the best form of enticement I could think of: food.

“So, why did you want me here?”

“Can’t I want to spend some time in your delightful company?”

“You can, but that’s not why I’m here,” David said, giving me a firm look. “In fact, why are wehere? I mean, how much time are you actually spending here right now?”

“Well…” I stuffed my ice cream into my mouth to avoid answering the question. The truth was I’d hardly been here at all, only when I needed to meet the builders or someone from the insurance. Hugo and I hadn’t really discussed the living arrangements; all he’d said was that he liked having me around, so I’d stayed. It was a lot less lonely than being here by myself.

“I see,” David added. “And does Hugo mind you staying there?”

“Why would he? I’m a delight!”

“You’re something alright,” he chuckled. “Seriously Kit, what’s wrong? Is something going on?”

“Why would you think that?” David continuously seemed to be able to read me like an open book, and he always knew when something was bothering me, often before I did.

Instead of answering me, he just raised his eyebrow and gave me his patented hard stare, which would rival that of Paddington Bear. Although as far as I knew, David was not terribly fond of marmalade sandwiches.

I sighed, nibbling at a bit of chocolate. The truth was there was something going on, I just didn’t know how to put it into words. Ever since Hugo had asked me out and we’d had our heart to heart, something inside of me was all mixed up. It was like someone had put all my emotions inside a blender and switched it on to full power. Everything felt jumbled, and I felt more and more like poor Alice after she tumbled into Wonderland every day. Minus the White Rabbit, although, I would like a pocket watch.

“You’re right,” I said, my tongue saying the words before my brain could catch up. It was probably best to get this over with, and if anyone could help me sort through the mess in my head, it would be David. “I need to talk to you about something, but I need you to listen to everything before you say a word. Promise?”

“I promise.” Worry was practically engraved on his face, but I pretended not to notice as I shuffled my thoughts into order like a set of note cards for a speech.

“Good,” I said, and so I began. I told him about the past few weeks and how I’d been spending more time with Hugo, about our time in the park and then how he’d come and found me without knowing my address, just ordering a taxi to drive around until he saw me. I told him about how easily we’d slotted into living together, and how I felt like I could talk to Hugo about anything and that he’d always listen, even if I was probably making no sense. And then I told him about Hugo’s question and why I’d said no, the words sliding haltingly from my mouth.

True to his word, David said nothing, even when I could see the questions forming on his face.

“Okay,” David said, a moment after I’d finished, waving his ice cream stick around like he was lecturing. “I’m not quite sure what the problem is here. Hugo asked you on a date and you said no because you’re demisexual, and you’re worried about the potential lack of sex being an issue, and also you don’t want to be in a relationship. But you still like him very much.”

“Yes.”

“And there is now a problem because…?”

“Because… because… because I might quite possibly not be as okay with it as I first thought,” I squeaked. Curse that man and his perfect people-reading skills. David waved his hand at me to continue. “I always thought it would just be easier to avoid relationships because of the whole sex thing. I mean virtually every time I’ve tried dating in the past I’ve been told how weird that is and how much of a freak I am because of it—”

“Not a freak, perfectly normal, but go on.”

“And I just always thought it would be better if I were on my own, but now… now I’m starting to think I might be wrong?”

Something had changed. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on or find the words to describe. But it wassomethingand it had to do with how I felt about Hugo. I didn’t know what it was, it was too nebulous and shifting, and every time I tried to pin my thoughts down, they slipped through my fingers like leaves on the wind. All I knew for certain was that I couldn’t bare to think of Hugo being with someone who wasn’t me. And I couldn’t bare the thought of my life without him in it.

David smiled at me and nodded, as if he’d already figured all of this out and had just been waiting for me to come to the same conclusion. I wished he would have just given me the answer because it would have saved me so much time.

“I think you might be,” he said. He leaned back in the plastic chair which squeaked ominously. “You said you like spending time with him… how do you feel about Hugo?”

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