Page 83 of Everything That Kills Me
Zeph tipped back his head and laughed.
When they set off on the half-mile walk to St John’s College, Jack took hold of Zeph’s hand. He heard the catch in Zeph’s breath and felt Zeph’s fingers tighten around his, and knew he’d made Zeph happy. Unexpectedly, it made Jack happy too. For this night at least, he was going to forget what he was and be what Zeph wanted him to be.
“It’s going to be hard not to eat and drink too much,” Zeph said. “Unlimited food and drink, as much champagne as you like. If you think I’m overdoing it, stop me.”
“How will I be able to tell?”
“Probably when I turn green.”
“Right. Is it usual that the college doesn’t reveal the theme of the ball until the night?”
“John’s likes to keep it secret. Not sure the others do.”
“What sort of themes do they have?”
Zeph was rubbing his thumb in Jack’s palm and he could feel it in his cock.Fuck.
“Midsummer Night’s Dream, Orient Express, Venetian carnival, Roman mythology… They go to a lot of trouble.”
They saw other couples and groups in evening wear making their way through the city. The girls—women, Jack corrected himself, were in elaborate ball gowns, some backless, some so cut away at the front he was surprised they stayed in place.
They joined the short queue outside the main gate. It was eight fifteen. Those with early entry could go in an hour before the ball started at nine.
Zeph leaned against him. “Thank you so much for bringing me to this. I’ll never forget it. Ever.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I don’t care if it’s elitist, I wanted to go one time and this is it. Thank you.”
Jack wasn’t sure what he expected the event to be like, but after tickets and ID had been checked—Zeph hadn’t noticed the different surname—they were given wrist bands and a programme. They walked into Chapel Court, which had been turned into a winter wonderland. Machines were filling the air with flurries of fake snow and an acapella choir sang Christmas songs as flakes landed on their hair.
Holding glasses of champagne and plates of canapes, Zeph led him from Chapel Court to First Court. Jack had already memorised the layout, Thomas’s rule about knowing your surroundings applied at all times. An enormous ice rink had been set up in that area, with more snow machines operating. In addition, the entire courtyard had been filled with illuminated Christmas trees of every size and colour.
“Wow,” Zeph whispered. “And this is only one part of it. Can you skate?”
“Yes. Can you?”
“Want to before it’s busy and we have to contend with drunken idiots?”
“Why not?”
They took off their jackets, leaving them next to their glasses and plates. They were the first ones on the ice. Jack had learnt to skate because Thomas considered it a useful skill. The same with skiing. Not that he’d ever had to use either on a job. He was competent and swift more than stylish, but as Zeph glided out on to the ice, Jack saw he was in another league. Elegant and graceful, skating backwards as easily as he skated forwards. They did a couple of circuits and still no one else was skating.
“I’d like to jump while there’s no one on the ice,” Zeph said.
“Go ahead.”
“What if I fall?”
“Then you get up and try again. But let me get my phone.”
Jack skated to the edge while Zeph did loops of the rink. It was hard to take his eyes off him. Once he had his phone ready, he waved. Zeph sped up, took off while skating forwards, twisted in the air and landed going backwards. No hesitation. No slip. Jack heard clapping and turned to see a group watching.
“Again!” a girl shouted.
Jack took a few pictures, then put his phone back into his jacket pocket and returned to the ice. Zeph did the same jump again, then a different one before he skated to Jack’s side.
“Ten out of ten for that triple axel…double toe loop foot…salchow.”
