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Authors: HT Pantu

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BOOK: I Hate Summer
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“You okay, Ide?” Patrick asked softly.

I realized that I was furious. Actually genuinely wanting to hit someone furious. I took a deep breath and dropped my face into my hands, obscuring the seething anger that must have leaked into my eyes.

“Shit, sorry, guys, I’m fine. It’s been a long day.”

“What’s going on? Who was on the phone?” Suze asked gently as she linked her arm through mine and leaned against me in a reassuring way.

What was going on, indeed? My sister who I’d been desperately trying to make up with over some unspecified transgression had finally called me. But the suspicion that she had called me for Trystan would not go away, and I hated that man so much right then that with Suze’s half hug pressed against me I genuinely thought I might break down in tears on the street.

In my hand my phone started to vibrate once again. And it was with grim acceptance of the truth that I saw Jorja’s name flash up on the screen. This time I hung up on her. The gesture wasn’t unnoticed by Suze.

“I thought you wanted to talk to her?”

“Yeah, I changed my mind.” My voice was gruff and hollow and I palmed through my call history to pull up the last unknown number. “Guys, I need to make this call. It’s probably going to be messy, so ye should go ahead.”

Both of them fixed me with concerned looks. Suze reached up onto her tiptoes and pressed a kiss against my cheek.

“You’re a lovely man, Idrys, and when you decide to settle you’ll make someone very happy. Don’t forget that. Or let anyone tell you different, okay?”

I took a deep breath and swallowed down the lump that balled in my throat. Suze was too nice to be a friend of mine. I managed to smile down at her, even though I didn’t believe a word of what she’d said.

“Thanks, love,” I said and gave her a brief squeeze in return before she detached herself and went to Patrick’s side to hurry along down the pavement.

I hit the Send Call button before I lost my nerve and raised the phone to my ear. It was answered on the second ring.


You spoke to your sister?
” the voice on the other end of the line said, a voice I had hoped to go at least a year, preferably two, before hearing again—Trystan.

“No, if I speak to her now I’ll lose my cool. What d’ye want, Trystan?”


You in a prissy mood again, Ide?

“A—” I cut myself off before I could explode at that. I was almost home, and I didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad one; in public I had a reason not to start shouting.

“Trystan, thanks to that whatever it was in Scotland, my sister isn’t speaking to me.” I was a little more calm this time. “When she finally decides to call me it’s because of ye… so yes I’m in a ‘prissy mood,’ ye fricking arrogant bastard. Now tell me why yer calling before I head into town to change my number.”


So you do act like a fag sometimes; you go in a mood like a girl.

By my side I balled my hand into a fist and fought the urge to punch the nearest wall as a replacement for the face of the man on the other end of the phone.

“Last chance, Trystan,” I said instead and remembered the fat paycheck I’d get if I turned up unscathed on Saturday.


I need a favor.

“Hoh? Well, newsflash, Trystan: if ye wanted me to do something for ye, ye should have fucking been nice to me, ye—argh!” I cut myself off again because the people walking down the street were giving me funny looks. I tried to calm my breathing.


Look, you think I
like
calling you? You think I
enjoy
having to call up and beg after you made a fucking fool of me?

“Oh my
fricking
God, Trys! It was a
game
. And it was
ye
who fricking started it, so don’t give me that shit. Now what do ye want?”

The other end of the line went quiet for a moment, and I lifted my phone from my ear to see if he’d hung up. He hadn’t and eventually I was greeted with a sigh.


Fucking hell, you really are shallow, aren’t you? Jorja said as much but


“Oh, I’m so
sorry
, Trystan Jackson, that my personality offends ye. I’ll be sure to make sure I’m more normal next time I see ye. Shall I be all virginal and pretend to quake when ye press yer morning wood into me?” Sarcasm was laid thick on my words but my voice had lost its venom because this time it wasn’t just Vince he’d been talking to about me, but my sister too.

I was home and I wanted to go inside so I could cry or scream in private. But I’d have to walk past James’s room, and if he was in, I wasn’t sure I could cope with him and Trystan at the same time. But I could hardly hover outside my own house. I stared up at the building in indecision.

The choice was made for me as a hand slid around my neck and grasped my jaw.

“Looking for me,
faggot
?” James’s words slid into the ear that didn’t have my phone pressed against it. I snatched my face from his grip and hissed at him as I spun to face him. I wondered how long he’d been following me.

“I’ve warned ye once already, James, if ye touch me again I swear I’ll slice yer dick off while yer sleeping,” I snapped back, but I know there was an edge of fear in my voice because the look in James’s eyes was actually beginning to concern me. My phone was completely forgotten as James backed me into the door.

“Ha, empty threats,” grunted James.

“Stay away from me, James!” I hissed.


Ide? Idrys? You still there? What’s going on?

I actually wanted to laugh, because the one person who might be able to help me I disliked almost as much as James right now.

He pulled something out of his pocket. It flashed in the sun, and for a moment I thought it was a knife.

He laughed at me as he saw the ashen horror wash through my face and body as I slumped back against the door.

He continued his dark snigger as he wove his keys through his fingers before he pressed them into our front door. I stumbled backward through the doorway as he opened it. In a flash I was rushing up the stairs, straight to the top of the house. I locked my door and slid down the wall with my thighs pulled tightly to my chest and my head dropped against my knees.

It had been a long time since someone had scared me like that.


Ide…? Ide…?

“I’m here,” I whispered, because that was all I could get my voice to do, and although I really didn’t want to talk, Trystan actually sounded kind of worried.


What the hell was that?
” he asked.

“New housemate—he makes ye and Vince look like fricking gay rights activists.”


You live with him? Is that really safe? What does Jorja think?

“Jorja doesn’t know, because she’s not talking to me, because of ye, so… tell me what it is ye want and go t’ hell, Trystan. I don’t need yer pity.”


It’s not pity.
Fucking hell, Ide. My placement in Oxford fell through at the last minute. I got a new one in York, and I need somewhere to stay while I find a house.

I laughed, and it was slightly hysterical. “Ye know? Right now I’d actually rather deal wi’ ye than that guy; at least I know what shittiness to expect from ye.”


I’m not asking for you to kick anyone out. I’ll just sleep on a couch until I get a place sorted; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of weeks.

“Ye for real?”


Unfortunately, yes.

I really hoped that sometime soon his answer to that question would be no.

“When d’ye start yer placement?” I asked, because it seemed like the sensible thing to say.


Monday
” was his blunt response.

I sighed. “When d’ye need to come up?”


Friday.

“Friday? As in tomorrow?”

There was a pause. “
Yeah.

“Yer kidding?”


Nope.

The emotional rollercoaster ride that had been the last forty minutes of my life was beginning to take its toll, and I felt myself shiver slightly as adrenaline started to mess with my regular body function.

“Trys?”


Yeah?

“If ye try any o’ that shit ye pulled in the tent, I’ll kick yer ass out on the street.”


That’s fine.

“I’ll be sleeping around, a lot.”


That’s your choice.

“I know. I’m not asking yer permission. I’m preparing ye so ye don’t have a hissy fit again when ye see me kissing some other guy.”


I didn’t—

I cut him off before he could say anything. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just wanted to make sure ye knew.”

I heard him sigh. “
When is a good time to arrive?

“I have lectures eleven ’til three, so before or after,” I answered automatically.


I’ll be there at ten. Text me your address.

I hung up because I couldn’t think of anything else to say and I didn’t want to say good-bye like this was some normal phone call. I stared at the hand wrapped around my phone—it shook lightly. All of me was shaking. I laid my head back against the wall and stayed where I was until the shaking stopped and my breathing returned to normal.

I had three missed calls from Jorja. I ignored them all.

7—Butterfly

 

U
NSURPRISINGLY
, I
slept badly. By the time I was sitting in the kitchen watching the minutes to ten tick down, I’d already been to the gym, showered, and spent a couple of hours on the essay I had due in next week. I sighed as the knock on the front door thudded through the house.

Trystan looked the same as the last time I’d seen him except his outdoor gear was replaced by jeans and a T-shirt, his walking boots by trainers—much the same as me.

“Trystan,” I said by way of greeting as I held the door open for him and stepped to one side.

“Ide,” he replied just as wearily as he clocked my hostile look and less than welcoming tone. He had a holdall slung over his shoulder. “Do I need a parking permit?” I pressed a booklet into his hands and returned to the kitchen.

I sat back down at the table, flicking a piece of junk mail absently through my fingers while I waited for him to deal with his car. I heard the front door click shut and someone pause in the doorway to the kitchen. I was being a dick, but I honestly couldn’t bring myself to be civil. Simply agreeing to this ridiculous situation was almost more than I could cope with. My chair screeched against the floor as I pushed it back.

“I’ll show ye upstairs,” I muttered as I passed him without meeting his eye. With my foot on the first step I groaned as the door to the front bedroom opened. “Fricking great.”

“Got a fag friend come to stay, Idrys?” James slurred. I didn’t look round at him. I didn’t have to look to know that there would be a sneer on his fat lips.

“James, Trystan. Trystan, James.” I waved a hand over my shoulder without looking round. “I’m sure ye two’ll get on like a house on fire: Trystan hates
fags
too. He’s staying with me because he has no choice,” I continued in a monotone as I made my way up the first flight of stairs. “Trystan’s favorite pastime is also making my life hell—yer like a match made in heaven.”

James actually laughed, but I was on the first landing by then and I continued round to the next floor without reacting. Trystan remained silent, and heavy footsteps followed me up and into my attic bedroom. Floorspace-wise it was big, but the walls sloped down near the edges and the parts I couldn’t stand in were used as storage space for a range of outdoor equipment: camping, hiking, climbing, and biking. There was a large double bed pushed against one wall. One wall was mostly covered by a collage of OS maps, pieced together to give a detailed map of the area between York and Derby, one other was decorated by four blue chunks where my other poster had fallen down.

“I’ll put a roll mat out and ye can sleep on the floor. Unless ye think ye can keep yer hands and legs to yerself, then ye can sleep on the bed.”

“I’ll take the floor.”

“Sensible choice.” I glanced at my watch. “I’m going to have to go in ten minutes.” I fished a set of keys out of my pocket and finally forced myself to face him again. Have I mentioned how irritatingly attractive he was? I think I have. Well he was scowling, and he still managed to look good. I had a sudden urge to drag him downstairs and kick him out on the street. Instead I held the keys out.

“My room, the front door,” I explained and pointed to the respective keys. “Make sure ye lock this room when yer not in it.” God knew what James would do if he got in here, and I did not want to find out. “I wrote an
I
on my milk, so if ye want tea use that one. I’m sure ye can find what ye need. If it’s been chucked out again, just steal someone else’s. The bathroom is downstairs. Ye can use my laptop.” I waved in the general direction of my desk. “The Wi-Fi password is on the back of the box that is next to the fridge. I’ll be back at about four.” He continued to stare at me like he was expecting something else. “Have I missed anything?”

“Your room is more normal than I expected.”

“I took the gay porno down.” I grimaced as his eyes drifted to the suspiciously empty square between the four lumps of Blu Tack. I rolled my eyes, scrambled over my bed, and dug the poster out from where it had slid awkwardly down the side. I flattened it pointlessly and stuck it back to the half-dried Blu Tack. It was an autumn landscape, the only green was the muted tent in the foreground against a backdrop of sunshine ochre. “Happy?”

He ran a hand through his dark hair, and I noticed that he looked pretty tired. “Not really, Ide. Look, I get that you’re pissed with me, and although I’m not sure why you agreed, I’m very grateful for you helping me out. But I’m kind of annoyed about what you said to that guy downstairs.”

BOOK: I Hate Summer
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