Page 31 of Open Water

“Nope. Never,” Lukas squeals. His face is like scarlet pink. I bet he is wishing he had said he prefers Hershey’s Chocolate to KexChoklad. That would have been a much safer statement than this can of worms.

“So, did you just throw yourself at him and then he screamed he wasn’t gay or something?” Rukshana clearly has no shame. Honestly.

“No. Just tell me which one is the truth.” Lukas doesn’t sound convinced.

And I am now laughing. Because he looks so uncomfortable and, in my head, I am already planning another exercise we can do where I will have Lukas spilling embarrassing truths faster than he can stop himself. I am a genius. I wasn’t going to come back here. I wasn’t. But somehow this is much more fun than Group Therapy, and Matteo’s fingers are stroking my wrist. Like he wants to hold my hand, but doesn’t know if he is allowed. If I will let him. When the truth is I will let him do anything to me. My little ray of sunshine. My baby. The love of my fucking life. Bigger and better and definitelymuchmore real than Theo James. Seriously.

“You don’t have a cat. I’ve never seen scratches on your hands. Cats scratch the shit out of your hands. At least mine do.” Laura is suspicious staring at Lukas. Trying to draw the truth out of him by just staring him down.

“And you hate Armie Hammer and said TimothéeChalamet looks like an underfed piranha. I still haven’t forgiven you for that. So that’s an easy one.” She is cocking her head now and the room has fallen completely silent and Lukas squirms in his seat.

“You kissed a straight bloke. And it didn’t go well. And I think as our group leader you should indulge us in the rest of that story to… teach us a lesson. Or something.”

Yeah. Laura’s run out of steam and everyone is nodding. Like they are on to him. Like that wasn’t an easy one to figure out.

“I didn’t kiss him.Hekissed me, then very swiftly realised that he wasn’t into me. Or boys. End of story.” Lukas’s face is kind of pink and he stands up and starts fiddling with his laptop.

The girls are still moaning as I make them all lie on the floor face down as we play ‘Missing Persons’. Then we do ‘Charades for Feelings’ and Lukas gives in and we watch ‘20 Philkas kisses’ from YouTube on the display screen.

To be honest, I think Lukas is kind of relieved not to be the centre of attention anymore. He’s cool. Honest. Private. I like him. I see why my Dad likes him. And I might ship them. See? I learnt a load of totally useful stuff today.

I’m still smiling as I almost skip down the road to the bus. I have therapy at 6 o’clock. Matteo has rehearsals with his theatre group. He hugged me goodbye.

I can still feel his fingers on my wrist. Next time I will be brave. Please let there be a next time. Next time, I will hold his hand.

TOM

The evening dusk is rolling in across the motorway as the car heads back toward the city of Stockholm. The dark green pines along the road blending effortlessly into the asphalt, almost blurring Tom’s vision into stripes of greeny-grey shooting past the car.

It’s been a good day. A reckless day full of ill-advised dietary choices and ridiculous purchases from the out of town Outlet Mall. It’s been brilliant. Really brilliant. To be honest, Tom feels sick with the amount of pick and mix he has shoved down his throat, especially after the burgers and milkshakes they just had at the roadside MAX burger chain before re-joining the motorway home. It’s called MAX Burgers. They always stop there. It’s kind of a tradition, Max had insisted. And Tom had just ruffled his hair and said ‘Of course.’ Because there is nothing he wouldn’t do for the little shit who is curled up in a ball next to him, fast asleep with that long fringe of his falling messily over his eyes.

The dye is already coming out of his hair, making the strands a mess of black and grey with blondish stripes shining through his son’s matted locks. He’s still the most breathtakingly beautiful thing Tom has ever seen. He has always been, from that first night when Tom brought his baby son home and sat on his own in the tiny student room where he had lived.

He had owned an IKEA cot. A kitchenette full of bottles and powders and a bundle of clothes his parents had bought him. And this tiny little thing that he couldn’t take his eyes off. Tom hadn’t slept that first night. Just tossed and turned as the tiny baby snuffled and shuffled in the cot beside him.

He knew the rules. He knew not to risk it. But he just couldn’t leave him there. He couldn’t leave that little boy lying there on his own. Max must have been just as scared as Tom. Scared and lost and confused and overwhelmed by the world that had changed so drastically around them. He was a Dad. And this was his son. They would now belong together forever and the bare thought of that made Tom want to run screaming and shouting back home to his parents again, so he could pretend he was still an irresponsible child.

Instead, he had carefully lifted his baby son out of the cot and curled himself into a ball around him. Lain on his side with pillows between his knees and his back against the wall, so he wouldn’t roll over onto the baby in his arms. They had dozed like that for the first couple of days, living in a haze of sleep deprivation and nappies and trying to figure each other out.

It had been love at first sight. And life had never been the same again.

Tom wouldn’t have changed a thing. Not even the horrendous episodes when life had been hell and he had been terrified that Max would just walk out of the door and never return. They had screamed and shouted and cried and slammed doors in each other’s faces, but they had both stayed. Both silently accepted that they were, unfortunately, both right where they needed to be. At Home. With their family.

Because they are the only family they will ever have. Not that Tom hasn’t got the greatest of hopes for his son. He wants him to find someone who will love him as desperately as Tom does. Who will hold him and kiss him and rock him to sleep, now that Max has grown up and Tom just can’t do that anymore.

He got a hug today though. A hug full of laughter and pity and ridicule, but still. A hug. And he smiles as he looks back in the seat behind them, full of shopping bags and trays of beer and the stupidly oversized box of Hershey’s Milk Chocolate bars from the American Supermarket at the Mall.

It’s ridiculous, he knows, but hey. He is desperate. And he is taking desperation to the next level, whatever the cost. He’s got nothing to lose. Zero collateral if it all goes to shit. Except that he will be heartbroken. And sad. And probably ugly-cry into his pillow for a few weeks. It’s nothing he hasn’t done over Lukas Myrtengren before. It won’t be the first time. Just probably the last.

Fuck, he doesn’t even want to think about it. Failure is not an option. ‘Own it’, as Max had shouted at him in the discount sweet warehouse, his pick and mix bag bulging with sugar and e-numbers that normally would have made Tom see red. “Go big or go home!” he had shouted back and loaded up another scoop of colourful sweets. Dark chocolate arrack pralines. Limousine marshmallow cars and Ferrari red racers. Caramel mushrooms. Peps peppermint balls. Salty liquorice nuggets that make your mouth scream and your eyes water. They’re called ‘Roar of the Jungle’ for a reason.

His mouth pools with saliva again and he scoops up another sweet from the now almost empty bag resting on his lap. He feels a little bit sick. Dizzy. Tired. Happy.

The urge to lift Max out of the car and carry him inside like a baby is tempting, but Tom doubts he would even be able to get him out of the seat. He used to love that. Carrying his sleeping child inside, and carefully putting him down in his bed. Wrapping him up in the duvet and curling in behind him, going to sleep with his son in his arms. The thought that those days are long gone makes him again feel his age. The loneliness creeping in once more as he nudges Max’s arm and shouts his name.

“We’re home,” he says, as Max huffs and wipes the drool off his chin. Stretches awkwardly in the seat.

“I can’t believe I slept all the way,” Max slurs out, and takes a tentative step out onto the drive, as Tom hands him two shopping bags and motions towards the open front door.

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