Page 12 of Everything That Kills Me
For the rest of the week, he was going to do everything he could to avoid him. It was the only way to stay safe and hopefully deter Rufus and Scott from getting their revenge. He’d save his lust for the privacy of his bedroom. And let his heart bleed inside more crappy poetry.
Even though they were bad poems, he felt better after he’d written them.
You think that I don’t matter
You think that I don’t care
You think I’m weak and helpless
But I know that life’s unfair
I’m not the boy you think I am
I’m not the boy I want to be
You’re brave, I’m not, at least not yet
But one day I’ll be free
Hmm.One day he’d read this rubbish and laugh.
Zeph swapped his seats in the classrooms to ones on the front row near the door so he could be first out. He took sandwiches so he didn’t need to use the cafeteria. Sixth formers were allowed to leave school grounds, so Zeph found a quiet spot in a nearby park to eat his lunch. Though one day, when he’d felt he was being followed, he didn’t eat but instead did his homework in the town library.
Success, of a sort, though he wasn’t happy. Avoidance was such a shit tactic. And paranoia was invasive. Jack hadn’t spoken to him again and instead of being pleased, Zeph was upset, even though he reminded himself he’d made no effort to be friendly. Alice was so obviously mooning after Jack, it made Zeph embarrassed. Rufus and Scott had done a bit of name calling but that was all, and Zeph had hardly said a word to anyone. He was increasingly miserable.
So not a success at all.
“Happy Birthday!”
Zeph found himself facing a chorus of greetings when he stepped into the kitchen on Saturday morning. There were two cards on the table along with a wrapped gift.
“Open the cards first,” Alice said.
Zeph did as he was told.Congratulations on being our Stepbrother!It made him laugh. Inside was a twenty-pound Amazon gift voucher.
“Thanks. That’s great.”
“We didn’t know what to get you,” Georgia said. “Well, apart from a birthday cake. I’m buying that later.”
Oh God. Please don’t let it be something stupid.
The other card saidThanks for being a great son for 1.6 decades, 16 years, 192 months, 832 weeks, 4844 days, 140,245 hours, 8,415,360 minutes, 504,921,600 seconds. It’s no wonder you know everything!He’d had the same card last year based on fifteen years.
The gift was an iPhone, which shocked him. “Wow. Thanks very much.”
“We figured you could use a new phone.” His father patted his shoulder.
Zeph hardly used his old one. He was on a pay-as-you-go deal and hadn’t used up the credit he’d added eight months ago. If he needed to go online, he used his laptop.
“We’ve paid for the first three months,” Elisa said. “After that, you can do extra chores to cover the contract.”
Damn.That was supposedly the basis on which Georgia and Alice had been given their iPhones, which they had begged and pleaded for, but Zeph hadn’t seen them do what they were supposed to.Heput the bins out every week,hedid the hoovering once a week,heemptied the dishwasher most mornings. He’d never asked for a new phone and now he had to act gratefulanddo more around the house. It annoyed him.
“What do you have planned for the day?” his father asked.
Homework. Extra maths. Playing the keyboard. Teaching himself Spanish. Messing around on his laptop. Watching things on it that he shouldn’t, with the door locked.
“Nothing much.”
