I wanted to be home already. I wanted to see him. Kiss him. Hear his voice. It was worse knowing he was at Deveraux and not in another country, knowing that I could be with him now if I wasn’t here listening to chat about which girls the rugby lads wanted to take to the prom. He’d be going back to Switzerland in six days, and I resented everything that kept me from him.
I thought about skipping fifth and taking an Uber to the house, but I couldn’t be confident I wouldn’t see Luke on the way in. He worked on the grounds three days a week now, today being one. And there was no way I would be able to explain my presence there at this time of the day.
As I was leaving sixth, there was a text from him.
Caspien:
I’ve no idea what I used to do all day around here before you came along to entertain me.
Me:
read pretentious Russian literature and ride your horse.
Caspien:
I’ve already done both of those today.
Me:
well, I’ve studying to do. Not all of us had our place at Oxford confirmed when we were 5.
This wasn’t a lie. Ididhave studying to do, but we had agreed to do it together in the library later. But I wanted him to ask if I was still coming. I wanted to know that he wanted to see me. It was an urge I never grew out of; I would always leave plans we made open-ended, would always ask him things in a way I thought would induce him to tell me what I wanted to hear. It rarely worked.
Caspien:
You know as well as I do that if you want to getinto Oxford, then you need my help to do it.
Me:
You’re offering to help me?
Caspien:
I might be. I’ll want something in return though…
I smiled.
Me:
Maybe I don’t need your help.
Caspien:
We both know that’s a lie.
Me:
What is it you want?
I was stopped in the middle of the common outside the front of school, completely absorbed in the small flickering dots on the screen.
Caspien:
I think you know what I want, Jude.
I felt my dick harden in response to that.
Me: