Page 73 of Everything That Kills Me
“Tickets?” Jack asked.
“Him.” He glanced towards the smallest man.
Jack found them in his pocket. They looked legit. He took a picture of the driving licences of all three guys, none of which matched the names on the tickets, then put the money in the pocket of the conscious one.
“You’re still paying us?”
“Minus an aggravation fee. You were very aggravating. Any trouble and I know where you live. You don’t want to see me when I’m really pissed off.”
The other two were coming round as Jack walked away.
Nineteen
Zeph had always wondered about the expressionfloating on cloud nine.He supposed he’d experienced it when he got his A level results and when he was offered a place at Cambridge, but those moments were fleeting. Great news, but the day moved on, the cloud evaporated.Nowhe really knew what being happy felt like. A warm feeling in his chest that didn’t go away but kept him smiling, kept hope alive. And when he saw the person who’d made him feel like that, the rush of pleasure was so intense, he could hardly breathe.
Cloud nine was where he floated. Euphoric. Energised. Excited. He wanted those feelings to last forever and he knew they wouldn’t, that this was just the endorphin high of lust, but that was still what he wanted. Nine was a lucky number in Chinese culture, though unlucky in Japanese. Zeph didn’t really believe in luck. Bad things happened as easily as good.
But…
He was happy.Oh God, I am soooooo happy.
Punting was a pleasure. None of the passengers could piss him off. He refused to get annoyed even when one guy kept interrupting him with his own version of Cambridge history.In my day, we didn’t…
But despite his happiness, Zeph was still wondering how he’d so easily managed to agree to this holiday. He wasn’t impulsive, he made considered decisions. Seeing Jack again had changed him. Hadn’t he wanted to be different? The way he’d been living so far hadn’t made Cambridge the place he’d hoped it would be. Now it seemed full of possibilities.
So he’d saidyesto the road trip around Europe. He didn’t regret it. He’d go whenever and wherever Jack wanted. Definitely the former and probably the latter unless he suggested somewhere dangerous. He couldn’t stop smiling.
And when Jack stepped into the punt as a passenger for the final tour of the day, Zeph’s world exploded in a kaleidoscope of joy.
Jack’s grey T-shirt pulled tightly over his pecs.Distracting.
His long legs in those low-slung, slim fit jeans.Distracting.
Jack’s questions started before they’d reached the middle of the river. He kept fitting them in whenever Zeph stopped talking.
“How many miles is it to the sea?”
“Forty. We’re not going that far.”
“Is the punt being pulled by a chain?”
Zeph gaped. “Shall I stop using the pole and we’ll see?”
Everyone laughed.
“How many ducks are there on the river?”
“Forty-three. I’d be grateful if you counted them. It’s always a worry.”
Jack smirked.
“Do you two know one another?” a lady asked.
“Yes,” Zeph said as Jack said, “No.” Zeph laughed.
Back at the depot, once the punt was moored, Zeph returned his waistcoat and boater to the hut. He waved to Richard who smiled at him, then raised his eyebrows at Jack.
Yes, he’s with me! Mine!
