Page 35 of Everything That Kills Me
“I don’t have a phone. Is there some spaghetti for me, please?”
“Help yourself,” she muttered.
Zeph really wanted to take his dinner up to his room, but he sat at his usual place at the table. Alice was twirling a fork in her spaghetti but it didn’t look as though she’d eaten any. Zeph could sense something brewing. He ate while he could, anticipating being sent upstairs.
“What did I say to you yesterday?” his father asked.
“A lot of things.”
“Don’t be cheeky.”
“I’m not. I don’t know what you want me to say.” He really didn’t.
“Alice told me you stopped Jack partnering her in the computer lab,” Georgia said.
For fuck’s sake.“I sit at the end of the row, with Jack next to me, then Alice. Alice has Mo on her other side, then Oliver and Jamal. If Jack had partnered Alice, it would have thrown everything out. We always work with the person we’re next to.”
“Why didn’t you move?” Alice asked.
“Because we never move. We always work with the person next to us.” Zeph was bewildered. Alice knew all this.
“Change where you’re sitting,” his father snapped.
“It isn’t going to make Jack go out with her,” Zeph snapped back.
Alice burst into tears, pushed away from the table and ran out of the room. Elisa glared at Zeph before she followed. Georgia huffed and went out too.
“It won’t,” Zeph said to his father.
“Maybe not, but you going out with him will make this situation a whole lot worse.”
“I’m not going out with him.” Not yet.
“You know Alice is fragile. Stay away from him.”
“How? We’re in every class together.”
“You know what I mean. Stay away from him.”
He wouldn’t, but nodding was easy. He wished he’d been brave enough to say no.
That night, Zeph lay in bed and wrote a poem about the unfairness of it all. He had music for it turning in his head and tapped a rhythm on his thigh, wanting to remember the notes. Then, worried he wouldn’t remember, even though the noteswere dancing under his skin, he scribbled a few bars. When he’d done, he hid the book between the base and mattress of his bed. He’d never bothered to hide his stuff before but now he felt he had to. There might be a lock on the door but there was a spare key.
He dreamt about Jack, the two of them, the places they could go where they’d be able to kiss, how they’d lie together, holding hands, keeping secrets. He wanted to jerk off thinking about him but he didn’t let himself. Instead, he conjured Jack up beside him, felt the length of him pressed against his body, imagined his warmth, the scent of his hair, the taste of his skin, until he was the beating heart in Zeph’s chest. An actual part of him. How could he look at Jack without wanting him?
He had no way to resist.
He wasn’t going to resist.
How long since he’d had fun?
How long since he’d done what he wanted?
Zeph felt as if he’d been asleep forever and finally woken. If he didn’t take this chance, he’d never forgive himself.
Zeph hoped to see Jack at the school gate the following morning and instead was shocked to see his uncle. If Martin hugged him, he might not be able to pull away. Even worse, he might cry.
“Hi, Zeph. Were your stepsisters on the same bus?”
