I’m cycling up the ramp when I see a guy in school uniform leaning over the railing above. Felix? What’s he doing here?
‘Hey.’ I stand on my pedals and power up the ramp, sliding off the seat when I get closer. ‘Wagging school again?’
Felix straightens up. ‘Nah, I was just getting some fresh air. How about you — did you go home?’
I take my helmet off and step closer.
‘Yeah, I forgot my Japanese homework.’ There are beads of sweat on his forehead, fine stubble on his chin. So much for clearing my head.
Felix tilts his head to one side. ‘I didn’t know you did Japanese.’
‘You never asked.’ This nearness without touching is driving me crazy. After chaining my bike to a tree, I nod towards the subway.
‘Come for a walk,’ I say, and from the way Felix’s eyes are flaring, I can tell he knows exactly what I’m thinking. He follows me down the ramp and into the tunnel. My eyes adjusting to the darkness, I run my fingers over the wall, stopping once I see the recess halfway along.
‘Here,’ I whisper, taking Felix’s hand. I don’t know why the recess is there, but maybe it’s for people like us, who need to hide. Through the bricks I can feel the rumble of a train approaching. I can feel the rapid beating of Felix’s heart against my chest. I can feel his tongue in my mouth.
I feel, I feel, I feel, and I don’t want it to stop.
‘Whoa,’ I whisper, once the noise of the train has faded into the distance. ‘You’re g-good at this.’
Felix’s hands fall away from my hips. ‘I’m not — I don’t really—’
‘That was a compliment, Five,’ I say, but he’s turning his head, listening. And now I can hear it too — footsteps, soft laughter.
I slip back into the main body of the subway, casually swinging my arms. The footsteps and laughter belong to a pair of girls in uniform approaching from the school end of the subway. They barely acknowledge us when we walk past, too busy looking at their phones. Felix and I don’t speak until we reach my bike.
‘We should head b-back,’ I say, touching my fingers to his watch, which says twelve fifty-five. ‘Or we’ll end up in detention again.’
He nods. ‘Then we won’t be able to hang out after school.’
I sigh. ‘Yeah, maybe tomorrow. Today I have to get home.’ I’m thinking about how I need to buy the bread for the kids’ afternoon tea, and how I’m on babysitting until Mum gets home from work because Maddy’s got netball practice.
Felix’s face falls. ‘Oh, right.’ He shuffles his feet. ‘Maybe another day, then.’
I can’t wait for another day. I can barely wait two more hours. So, even though I’m worried about what he’ll think when he sees our piece-of-crap rental, I say, ‘You could come home with me for a while. If you’re not worried about hanging out with the kids.’
Felix grins. ‘I get to meet your infinitude of siblings? Cool.’
Two hours later, I’m wheeling my bike beside Felix, thinking about how if he were a girl, then we’d probably be holding hands. But two guys can’t hold hands in public, not unless we want to get beaten up. Or lynched, like the KKK used to do to black people.
‘Are you OK?’ Felix asks.
I focus back on him. ‘Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, did you just ask me something?’
‘Yeah,’ he says, tipping his head back. I guess he’s looking at the graffiti on the subway ceiling. Maybe I should tell Jack to get down here, turn it into a gangster version of the Sistine Chapel. ‘How come you’re learning Japanese?’
‘I like languages.’ I shrug. ‘I learned Latin at my old school too, b-but they don’t teach it here. At least I still get to do Classical Studies.’
Felix frowns. ‘Latin’s a dead language, right?’
‘Latin’s in lots of languages though. It’s in law, which is what I want to do when I go to uni, and it’s in science and medicine. And it’s just really interesting.’ I shrug. ‘To me, anyway.’
‘Can you say something in Latin?’ Felix asks. We’re getting closer to the end of the tunnel and he’s walking faster and faster, like he can’t wait to get out of there.
‘Well, there’s the obvious, like carpe diem.’ We exit the subway, blinking into the sun.
‘What’s that mean?’
‘It means “seize the day”.’ I point. ‘This way.’ We walk through the shopping centre, with its faded shopfronts and steel roller-doors that come down when the shops close for the night. ‘Or,’ I say, as we round the corner, ‘how about, amore nihil mollius, nihil violentius?’
Felix squints at me. ‘What does that mean?’
I halt outside the dairy, smiling. ‘I think I’m too scared to tell you.’
Felix’s forehead wrinkles, as if he’s going to press me on that, but I’m already strolling inside to get the bread.
By the time we get home, the TV’s blaring and the kids are bitching at each other already.
‘I told you to keep out of my stuff!’ Jack pokes his head out of his bedroom, glaring across the hallway into the lounge. ‘I swear I’ll thump you if you touch anything of mine again, you little turd.’ That’s Jack’s favourite name for Harley at the moment.
‘Hey, take it easy,’ I say, stepping back as Harley and Libby run out of the lounge, tumbling over each other like puppies. Libby hurls herself at me, wrapping her arms around my legs, and peers at Felix.
‘Are you Bailey’s friend?’
‘I’m Felix,’ he says, hanging back near the door as I introduce the kids to him. Libby takes his hand and blinks up at him.
‘Do you want to come and see my stickers?’
‘Um, sure?’ Felix glances at me. Grinning, I pull Libby’s sticky hand out of his.
‘Let’s sort out afternoon tea, huh?’
‘There’s nothing to eat,’ Jack grumps, following us into the kitchen.
‘Settle down, I’ve got food.’ I pull the bread out of my bag, and hold up the jar I saw on special at the dairy. ‘And if you’re good, you can have—’
‘Nutella!’ Jack snatches the jar out of my hand. ‘Yum.’
‘Hey, share it around, OK?’ I hand him a knife, and nod towards the lounge. ‘Take it in there.’ After sliding the door across between the kitchen and lounge, I open the fridge. ‘Do you want a drink?’
‘Um yeah, sure.’ Felix’s eyes are flitting around the room. I try to see it through his eyes — the cupboards with peeling paint, the hole in the wall near the fridge, the breakfast dishes stacked in the sink because the dishwasher broke down yesterday. Probably the kitchen at his house is bigger than our lounge and kitchen combined.
Burying my head in the fridge, I say, ‘We’ve got OJ, milk and lemonade. Except the lemonade’s lost it’s — ah — effervescence.’
‘Is effervescence Latin?’
I close the fridge, clutching the bottle of lemonade. ‘You know what, I think it is.’ There’s a wail from the lounge, Harley losing it over who-knows-what. That kid never stops whinging.
‘Ah, Jesus.’ I dump the bottle on the bench. ‘Help yourself,’ I say to a startled-looking Felix, before walking into the lounge to sort out the infinitude of siblings.
God knows what Felix is thinking. It can’t be good.
CHAPTER 9
FELIX: INFINITY IS AN UNBOUNDED NUMBER
After Bailey leaves the kitchen, I walk over to the bench, gazing out of the window. A BMX-style bike is lying on its side in the middle of the scrubby lawn, and I can just see the edge of a caravan parked around the side of the house. I wonder if Bailey’s family go for holidays in it, then realise it’s way too small for seven people.
Bailey’s voice floats through from the lounge.
‘Harley, you and Libby can watch TV, OK? No, you’re not allowed in your room for thirty minutes. Jack needs to do his homework. See that clock? Not until the long hand is on the twelve.’
I run my tongue over my dry lips. The lemonade does look pretty flat. Maybe I could help myself to some o
f that OJ, pour Bailey a glass too. I find the juice in the door of the fridge, and am just about to close it when I see the whole bottom shelf is crammed with bottles of beer. Man, his dad must drink a lot of beer. Maybe his mum, too, who knows?
I hate b-b-beer.
‘Want something to put that in?’ Bailey’s hands are on my shoulders.
‘Um, yeah. Thanks.’ I shut the door, my face flaming.
Bailey pulls a pair of glasses out of a cupboard and gestures at the window.
‘Might be quieter out there.’
‘Sure,’ I say, thinking we’re going to sit on the back porch. But when we get outside, Bailey walks over to the caravan and pulls a key out of his pocket.
‘Welcome to my room.’ He holds the door open for me. I walk up the metal stairs, taking in the double bed to my right, the tiny kitchenette and the table at the other end.
‘This is awesome,’ I say. From the posters on the walls, I can see he must like Panic! At the Disco and Red Hot Chili Peppers as much as I like Green Day. Interesting.
‘The only way to escape the infinitude.’ Bailey sets the glasses on the table and fills them with juice. ‘Otherwise I’d be sharing with Jack and Harley, like at our old house.’
‘That would be like having to share with two Alfies.’ I sit on the bench seat behind the table and drain my glass, fast, because I’m starting to feel a bit nervous. Alone with Bailey in a caravan with a bed in it. Oh my God, what does he want to do now? Not that I haven’t thought about all the things we could do, but I don’t think I’m ready. Not today. Even kissing him makes me feel like I’m going to short-circuit.
Bailey sits next to me, and touches my arm.
‘You OK?’
‘Um, yeah.’ My brain’s descended into chaos again. ‘Do you know what a fractal is?’
Yeah, good one, Catalan.
He runs a hand over his mouth.
‘Something along the lines of infinity?’
‘Kind of. It’s a never-ending pattern, at every scale. You can make cool pictures with them.’ I stop to take a breath. Why am I talking about fractals? I have no idea.
‘Infinity is an unbounded number,’ Bailey says softly, and I feel all hot again, thinking of the message I sent him earlier. I shouldn’t have mentioned Zero at all, why did I?
‘I wish I was unbounded,’ I say. I do, I do. I feel like I’m weaving a web around myself, for no good reason, because Bailey’s not doing anything apart from running his finger up and down my arm.
Which is pretty fucking erotic, actually.
‘Me too,’ he says, and when he kisses me, I’m ready for that. Touching tongues, I’m ready for that, too, because we’ve been doing that for two days. He doesn’t move his hand, resting on my shoulder, but I layer my fingers against the patch of bare skin between his shirt and his shorts, and hear his breathing hitch. And that’s it, my atoms are spinning out of control and whirling around the room.
‘I really like you, Five,’ he murmurs.
‘Ditto, Two,’ I say. He moves his mouth to my neck, and I’m thinking maybe I’m ready for something else, just a little bit, when someone starts hammering on the door of the caravan.
Bailey groans. ‘The infinitude is calling.’ He walks to the door, flings it open — and freezes.
‘What’s with the lock?’ A voice asks. ‘Anyone would think you were up to no good.’
Bailey steps back. ‘F-F-Felix,’ he says. ‘This is my dad.’
A ruddy-faced man with thinning hair walks in and extends his hand.
‘Nice to meet you, Felix. I’m Chris.’ Bailey’s dad is wearing jeans covered in smears and speckles of paint. He shakes my hand, squeezing the hell out of my fingers, and smiles.
‘Are you in Bailey’s class?’
‘English,’ I say. ‘And physics.’
‘Ah, physics.’ Mr Hunter nods. ‘I’m a science teacher, did Bailey tell you that?’
A science teacher? An art teacher, maybe, but I’ve never seen a science teacher wear clothes like that. I shake my head and glance at Bailey, but he’s gazing out of the window, like he wishes he were somewhere else.
‘I’m having a break,’ Mr Hunter adds, his eyes swinging back towards Bailey. ‘Have you made a start on dinner?’
‘It’s still early.’ Bailey’s eyes are darting all over the place. Is he worried his dad saw us? The curtains are drawn over the smeary windows, but he could have seen something through the gaps.
‘Well, don’t forget, huh? Just because I’m home early doesn’t mean you get out of your duties.’ Bailey’s dad nods at me. ‘Hope you’re better at remembering things than Bailey here.’
Bailey breathes out through his nose. Out of the window, I see Harley standing on the back doorstep, watching us. When their father turns to look at him, Harley runs back inside. I’m starting to feel really strange, as if all the atoms that spun away have reassembled inside me, but not in a good way.
‘I’d better get home,’ I say, picking up my bag. I guess I could add nice to meet you, which is what my dad would want me to say. But I’m not sure it was.
Inevitably Mr Hunter says, ‘Nice to meet you, Felix.’ I’m not sure if he means it either.
‘You want me to walk with you to the subway?’ Bailey asks once his dad has disappeared inside the house.
‘No,’ I say, and pause, because that’s not true. ‘I mean, yes. But I don’t want you to get in trouble.’
Bailey glances at the kitchen window, where his dad is standing at the bench flipping the cap off a bottle of beer.
‘No trouble.’ He puts his head down and starts walking around the side of house, so I follow him. My watch tells me it’s four thirteen.
‘So your dad’s a painter?’ I ask, once we’ve left the cul-de-sac behind. Ahead of us, a kid is riding down the middle of the road on a supersized skateboard.
‘For now.’ Bailey shoves his hands in his pockets. ‘Until he gets pissed-off, or pisses someone else off. That’s what usually happens.’
‘But he said he was a teacher?’
He kicks an empty can, sending it flying across the road. ‘Yeah, like six years ago. I don’t know why he keeps telling everyone that.’
I’m not sure if I should keep asking questions. But Bailey’s answering them, for now.
‘Didn’t he like being a teacher?’
‘Sure, b-but then he got f-f-f—’ He kicks at another piece of rubbish, an empty cigarette carton this time.
Fired, I think, but don’t say. I brush my fingers against his hand. Bailey gives me a half-smile.
‘Hey,’ he says. ‘Judo tomorrow.’ We walk down the subway ramp. The sun is still hot and hard on my back. It’s quieter now, only two other people in the tunnel.
‘Judo,’ I echo. I haven’t finished my questions yet, but I get the feeling Bailey’s finished with his answers — about his father, anyway. ‘I’ve been watching YouTube clips on the net.’
Bailey grins. ‘Yeah? Is that how you learn everything?’
‘Not everything,’ I say, giving him a sideways look, and his smile widens.
‘Oh-kay,’ he says, as if he knows exactly what I’m talking about. We walk fast through the tunnel, the trains rattling overhead, but slow once we reach the other side. Up to the street, where it’s silent apart from the grinding of the cicadas and an occasional car driving past. It’s that short segment of time between the after-school rush and the after-work hubbub. I wish I could stretch it out, spin us into a time warp.
‘Sorry that was weird b-b-before,’ Bailey says once we’ve reached the street. ‘At my house.’
I shrug. ‘Everyone’s family’s weird, right?’ I turn around, leaning against the wall. Bailey leans next to me, his shoulder and hip pressed against mine.
‘Were your parents arguing lots b-before they split up?’
I sigh. ‘Well, yeah.’
‘So, is it nice not to hear that anymore?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about
it. It’s weird not having my dad around. Like a hole that needs to be filled in, but he’s the only one who can do it.’
‘I wouldn’t miss it,’ Bailey says, his voice low. ‘I wouldn’t miss him.’
I try to imagine disliking my father so much that I wouldn’t miss him when he’s gone, but I can’t. So I don’t say anything, just lean into him. Bailey sighs, and slides his hand into the gap between my back and the wall.
‘I should head home,’ he says, the tips of his fingers pressing into the small of my back. ‘Message you later, OK?’
‘Later,’ I say, my breath quickening. ‘Two.’
The corners of his mouth turn upwards. ‘Later, Catalan number the third.’
‘You’ve been on the net, too, right?’ I don’t think anyone has ever made me smile this much before.
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I didn’t learn this on the net, though.’ He turns his head, so fast, and slips my earlobe into his mouth, Jesus. Before I know it he’s walking away, tossing a smile over his shoulder. It’s enough to send me straight into the shower when I get home.
I’ve never had so many showers in my life.
That evening, I sit at my desk trying to focus on fibre optics for my physics assignment, but I can’t concentrate. I want to message Bailey with everything that’s running through my head right now, which is almost more than I can deal with.
What happened by the river was the best thing that has ever happened to me.
I’ve never felt like this about anyone, ever.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
But what if he doesn’t feel the same way?
Have you done that before?
Once or twice.
Once or twice with whom? Just boys? Just girls? Both? I don’t remember ever wanting to kiss a girl. But what if I’m just a bit of fun, something to entertain Bailey until the right girl comes along?
And what will happen if someone like Zero finds out? Will we just get teased, or beaten up? I don’t know any gay kids at school, but maybe they’re just hiding, like me. I start thinking about famous gay people I know, like Neil Patrick Harris off How I Met Your Mother and Sam Smith, the singer. No one makes fun of them. It’s OK to be different if you’re famous, though, and I’m just a weirdo school kid.
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