Page 19 of Everything That Kills Me
“You’ll walk into Cambridge.”
He shrugged. “I should do okay grade-wise, but it doesn’t mean they’ll want me. I have to take something called STEP, a maths exam written by Cambridge to filter the best applicants. And it’s hard. Plus, my face might not fit. I’m not a leader, or a team player. I don’t have any fascinating hobbies or unusual extracurricular activities, though I do take part in maths competitions. Maybe my dad is right, Ishouldjoin a team.” He pretended to think about it. “No, I won’t. I’ll run. That’s what I like to do.”
“So do I. We could be a running team of two. You could write that on your statement. Tweak the truth.”
Zeph’s face split in a broad smile.
“What are your plans after university?”
“Government agency. Maybe GCHQ. Stopping cybercrime.”
That was…interesting. “You want to be a spy?”
“Not sure I’d be MI5 or MI6 material.” Zeph winced. “Behind a desk is more my style.”
And nothing like Jack’s. Their thighs touched, neither of them moved, and Jack missed what Zeph said after that.
“What do you think?” Zeph asked.
“That I should give you my phone number.”
As he’d hoped, it distracted Zeph from what he’d asked. He held out his phone to Jack.
Jack took it and tapped into it. “Now call me and I’ll have yours.”
He looked at Zeph’s face, at his long eyelashes, his dark-rimmed glasses, his big eyes and felt something curl and grow inside him, something that began to eat at him but not in an unpleasant way. His phone rang and Jack cut it off. He felt as if he wanted to stay out there all night under the stars, staring at Zeph, listening to him talk. It was an unfamiliar feeling.
“What were you doing out here before I scared you?”
“Stargazing.”
“I learnt to navigate by the stars.” Jack clenched his teeth. He shouldn’t have said that but what was he giving away?
“That sounds like a useful skill. Though it would worry me that clear skies are required. I wonder if anyone’s thought to invent a GPS that doesn’t rely on an electrical supply or a battery.”
“What are you thinking?”
“You could wind it up like a flashlight.”
“Rather than use your phone?”
“Your phone battery is dead.”
“A way to wind that up?”
“You dropped it in a river. Or a ravine.”
“And not the GPS?”
Zeph chuckled. “Let’s face it, I’d die. If there were bears, I’d get eaten by one. Level of intelligence irrelevant.”
Jack smiled.
“What music do you like?” Zeph asked.
“OneRepublic. Beethoven. Hozier. Coldplay. Mika. Snow Patrol. Mozart. Adele. Grieg.”
“That’s a wide selection.”
