Page 50 of Crocodile Tears

“Sorry – I got held up. What’s this?” Alex turned on the light and looked around. There was a neatly wrapped parcel lying on an empty plate at the place where he usually sat. “I told you I didn’t want any birthday stuff.”

“It’s not for your birthday, it’s for our anniversary. Don’t you remember?” Neil had that sulky, passive-aggressive look on his face that Alex knew all too well.

“The anniversary of what?”

“Our first time – in your bedroom at The Orchard – it was a year ago today.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry, Neil. I’m not great at shit like that.” He took off his coat with an apologetic smile.

Neil glanced at his watch. “You said you’d be home by eight. It’s nearly ten now. Where have you been?”

“At a lecture.”

“You didn’t have any lectures today.”

“A design lecture.” Alex shrugged.

Neil thumped his fist on the table, making the plates rattle. “Christ, how the hell do you do it? Most of us have to work our backsides off just to get the degree we’re here for, but you swan around, going to whatever the hell lectures you want, and you still ace all your papers.”

“Business isn’t that hard. I read all the textbooks and regurgitate them, like a good little student, and I use my free time to do the stuff I’m really interested in.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Itiseasy.” Alex sat down at the table, wondering if there was any chance of escaping this argument.

“Everything in your life has been effortless, hasn’t it?” Neil accused. “You have no idea what it’s like for the rest of the bloody world. You sail along, taking what you want, using people any way you please.”

“Yes. Is that what you want me to say?” Alex rolled his eyes. “Yes, it’s been easy for me, Neil. I grew up in a nice house, with loads of servants, and went to the best schools money could buy, while you had to sell your soul to my father to get an education and stand a chance of a decent life. Boo-fucking-hoo.”

“You really can be a nasty shit,” Neil snapped, getting up.

“I hate to break it to you, but so can you. Now, do you want us to have this nice little anniversary dinner or not?”

“It depends.” Neil crossed his arms mulishly over his chest. “This lecture you went to must have finished hours ago. Where have you been since then?”

“Out.”

“With Bax?” Neil glared at him.

“With Solange.” Alex glared back.

“I could tell your father,” Neil snapped. “You’ve been doing croc, haven’t you? I can tell by your eyes – they go all glowy afterwards, and they’re still wet. I could call your dad right now and tell him.”

“You could – but if he takes me away from here, then you lose me altogether. Sure, you still get your tuition paid for, and a place at Lytton AV when you finish, but you don’t get me anymore, and it’s me you really want, isn’t it?” Alex taunted.

Neil’s eyes were dark and wounded. “You are such a fucking bastard.”

“So are you. This” – he waved a hand at the candle-lit table – “is all a pretence.”

“It could be real,” Neil said desperately. “We could make it real. I take good care of you, don’t I?”

“Yeah, you do all the washing, cooking, and cleaning, like a good little indie.” He smirked. “You pick up after me, and lie to Daddy for me, and in return I give you fantastic blowjobs. Let’s not pretend it’s anything more than that.”

“I suppose I’ve been hoping you might grow to love me.” Suddenly, Neil looked so vulnerable that Alex felt guilty.

“I’m sorry. I’m a shit, I know that.”

“No, you’re just messed up.” Neil gave a little half-smile.

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