Finding Home

by Garrett Leigh

  “Get up, dickhead.” Leo grabbed the boy’s blazer and yanked him upright. “I’m just getting started.”

  “Wha—” The boy raised his hands clearly in bewilderment rather than self-defence. “Who the fuck are you? What’s your problem, mate?”

  “I ain’t your mate.” Leo pulled his fist back and struck the boy again, splitting his lip. “And it don’t matter who I am. I’m going to fuck you up.”

  The boy’s eyes widened. Then he seemed to shake himself, and he scrambled to his feet. “Yeah? Come on, then.”

  Leo grinned and sprang forward. The boy tried to block Leo’s blows, but instead of punching him, Leo grabbed his arms and forced them apart. He tipped his own head back, then flung it hard, putting all his weight and strength behind a head butt that sent the boy back to the ground.

  The boy didn’t get up this time. In fact, he didn’t move at all. Leo pulled his foot back to kick him back to life, but two sets of arms clamped around him from behind, one at his waist, the other at his shoulders, restraining him in a hold so tight he could hardly breathe.

  “Enough!” Mr. Griggs shouted as another teacher dropped to the ground to shield the other boy. “Break it up. Come on, lad. Inside with you. You’re going straight to the head’s office and likely home after that. You’re in big trouble, Mr. Hendry. Mark my words. Big trouble.”

  Charlie shuffled out of his geography lesson arm in arm with Jess. “So you bunked off school with Callum and went to his house?”

  “Not his house, Charlie,” Jess said. “I told you. We went to his nan’s bungalow.”

  “And what did you do there?” Charlie braced himself, knowing she’d tell him every detail whether he wanted them or not. “Please tell me his nan wasn’t in?”

  Jess huffed. “Course she wasn’t. She does Meals on Wheels on Mondays. We had the place to ourselves. Good job, too. We spent all day in bed.”

  “You shagged him in his nan’s bed? Jess, that’s nasty.”

  “Who are you? The moral police?” Jess rolled her eyes. “Besides, I didn’t shag him. Not yet, at least. He doesn’t want to until after my birthday.”

  “Probably best.” Charlie had heard that half the kids in the year above were already having sex, whether they’d turned sixteen or not, but the idea of being caught doing that sent the wrong kind of shiver down his spine.

  “Charlie?”

  “Hmm?” Charlie glanced at Jess to find her staring intently at him. “What?”

  “Would you tell me if you had a girlfriend?”

  “A girlfriend? Where the hell would I get one of those around here?”

  “What about a boyfriend instead?”

  Charlie stopped walking. “What?”

  “Oh, come on, Charlie. Don’t be embarrassed. I like boys. Why shouldn’t you?”

  “What makes you think I like boys?”

  Jess shrugged. “I’m not saying that you do, just that it’s—you know—okay if you—”

  “Charlie!”

  Dazed, Charlie whirled around, instantly pulled out of the conversation he was definitely not ready to have. Wayne Murphy was bearing down on him, his perpetually sweaty face flushed, his dull eyes uncharacteristically wild. Damn. Is he finally going to deck me? Charlie braced himself, ready to fight back as much as he could without lowering himself to Wayne’s level.

  But the impact of Wayne crashing into him never came. Wayne skidded to a stop in front of him and grabbed Charlie’s arms. “You gotta get to reception. Leo’s flipped his shit.”

  “He’s what?”

  “He’s lost it, mate. Booted it out of science and kicked the shit out of Darren Stroud in the courtyard. Proper battered him.”

  Charlie’s blood ran cold. Darren Stroud ruled year eleven and made Wayne look like a bloody prefect. Oh God. The chill in Charlie’s veins turned to ice, and real fear lanced his heart. Leo hadn’t said much about that night, but he’d made no attempt to hide the anger in his eyes whenever Charlie had pondered the source of the most idiotic thing he’d ever done. “Where is he? What happened?”

  “I just told you,” Wayne said. “He flipped. One minute he was pretty much asleep, next he was outside smashing up Stroud. Griggs dragged him off and to the office, but Leo looked like he was gonna batter him too, so I reckon you should get down there. He ain’t so bad when he’s with you.”

  Charlie didn’t need telling twice, even if Wayne’s observation was so astute that he had to wonder if he’d been dropped onto another planet.

  He pushed past Wayne and left Jess behind, dashing through the corridors and out of the maths building. The main office was on the other side of the school, and as he ran, there were signs of a major incident all around him—teachers milling about with walkie-talkies, clusters of kids congregated in places that usually held little interest. Blood on the concrete in the courtyard—

  Charlie stumbled. Is that Leo’s blood? But that theory didn’t fit with what Wayne had told him. If he was to be believed, then it was far more likely that the shiny red streaks belonged to Darren Stroud, and for some reason that was no comfort as Charlie pushed on.

  Besides, Wayne Murphy was full of shit. There was every chance that he’d fed Charlie a load of rubbish.

  But the moment Charlie burst into reception, it was clear that Wayne had told him the truth. Leo was nowhere in sight, but Darren Stroud was there—in bits on the visitor’s couch. Broken. Bleeding. And being tended to by a paramedic. Horrified, Charlie’s hands flew to his mouth. Leo. What have you done?

  And why had he done it? Charlie couldn’t deny there was a fire simmering in Leo that he was nowhere close to understanding, but this?

  Charlie’s heart hurt. This wasn’t Leo. It couldn’t be.

  “Charlie?”

  Charlie jumped. Mrs. Parkin grasped his shoulders and turned him gently to face her. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  “Where’s Leo?”

  “I was about to ask you that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Mrs. Parkin frowned slightly. “Exactly what I said. Leo’s in a lot of trouble, and he’s only made it worse for himself by running off.”

  “Leo’s not here? I thought he’d be in the office.”

  “He was, but he disappeared when Mr. Griggs left him to fetch another teacher.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “We don’t know, Charlie. That’s why I was on my way to find you. Leo doesn’t know the school very well yet. Is there anywhere you think he’d go when he’s upset?”

  It was a rare day that Leo wasn’t upset, and Charlie couldn’t recall him ever finding sanctuary at school. And even if he could think of a place where Leo might have been, would he rat him out? Could he?

  Charlie’s stomach did an uncomfortable flip, and his fingers automatically drifted to the bracelet on his wrist—the one that matched the brightly coloured beads Leo often wore over the bandage on his injured arm. Unbidden, his mind treated him to the image of Leo’s ruined flesh and new panic set in. “Is Leo okay? Is he hurt?”

  Mrs. Parkin shook her head. “We don’t know. He wouldn’t let Mr. Griggs check.”

  Of course he wouldn’t. Leo hated men—all men, even Reg. Especially Reg. There was no way he’d let a burly brute like Mr. Griggs put his hands on him. “What are you going to do? Have you called my mum?”

  “There’s no answer at home, so we’ve sent a message to her phone, asking her to call the school. Do you know if she’s around today? We’re about to call your father.”

  Charlie thought of Reg taking that call and shuddered. Reg hated violence. He wouldn’t let Andy watch the boxing at home. Oh God. What if he sends Leo away?

  Nausea finally overwhelmed Charlie, and he sank into a nearby chair. Kate and Reg gave each kid they took every chance in the world, but only if the rest of the family was safe from harm. Would they see Leo’s attack on Darren as a threat to them all?

  I have to find him.

  Nausea forgotten, Charlie lurched to
his feet. Mrs. Parkin stepped back, eyeing him in the same way that teachers usually eyed Leo. “Where are you going, Charlie?”

  “Toilet,” he said, looking past her for an avenue of escape. “I need to text my brother too. He might’ve heard from Leo. They’re—um—close.”

  Charlie had never been much of a liar, and the sense that Mrs. Parkin saw right through him made it hard not to squirm under the weight of her suspicious frown.

  But his squeaky-clean record perhaps worked in his favour. She stepped back and waved him away. “Okay, Charlie. Go to the bathroom, then contact your brother and see if he knows anything. It’s very important that we find Leo, and I don’t want to bother your father at work.”

  Charlie would’ve agreed to just about anything to escape. He appeased Mrs. Parkin as much as he could, and then made his escape, fleeing the office and dashing across the courtyard to the nearest block with toilets. Once inside, where Mrs. Parkin couldn’t see him, he cut through a classroom, retrieved his bike, and slipped out of a side gate. Leo wasn’t at school. Charlie didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Leo was long gone, and Charlie felt every ripple of his distress like a knife to the heart.

  I have to find him.

  But where to start? Leo wouldn’t have gone home, which left the park, and the sacred place under the bridge where Charlie had taken him the first time he’d been upset at school. This was nothing like that, but the canal called Charlie’s name. That’s it. He has to be there.

  Charlie rode like the wind to the black bridge and ditched his bike on the path. He scrambled down beneath the bridge, where the water was murkiest, half expecting to find Leo exactly where he’d sat all those weeks ago, but the small clearing was empty. Devoid of anything, save a grubby, blood-smeared bandage.

  I’m just like him. I’m just like him. I’m just like him.

  Leo pressed his fists into his eye sockets and rocked back and forth, reliving the other boy’s bones crunching against his knuckles over and over as he rained blows down on him—punching and kicking. Revelling in his pain. Enjoying it. Embracing the sick satisfaction as it spread through his veins.

  I’m just like him—

  Fuck.

  I am him.

  The realisation burned through him like wildfire, roaring up his throat from his stomach. He ripped his hands from his face and lurched sideways, vomiting onto the dusty ground. The other boy’s blood swam before his eyes, and it was all he could do to stay upright. To not crumple and be at one with the dirt where he belonged.

  I want Charlie.

  But he couldn’t have Charlie, because he didn’t deserve him. Charlie was good, kind, and pure. And Leo was evil . . . like Dennis.

  I’ll hurt him. I’ll hurt Lila.

  I have to go.

  Leo scrambled to his feet. His coat dragged on the ground, hanging off his good arm. He shrugged it off and hurled it in the vague direction of a nearby bin, but paid no heed to where it landed, distracted by his damaged arm. Exposed to the bitterly cold air, it was weeping blood and the strange clear fluid that frightened him so much. In the past, he’d imagined that it was his soul crying for Wendy. Now he knew that it was what remained of him seeping away, leaving nothing in its wake but every damned gene Dennis had given him.

  I hate him.

  I am him.

  I have to go.

  Leo closed his eyes, searching for any strand of peace amongst the chaos in his brain. But he found nothing except absolute certainty that Heyton was the wrong place for him to be. Lila, Charlie, they were better off without him.

  Resolved, he opened his eyes and ditched the park. Leaving Lila without saying good-bye broke what was left of his burned-out heart, but there was no other way. Even dazed as he was, he knew that going back to the house was a bad move. He’d heard the sirens, and he’d never forget the mess he’d left behind at school. No. He couldn’t go back. Not now. Not ever.

  There was only one home left for him.

  Charlie paced the hallway, straining his ears to eavesdrop on the crisis meeting going on in the living room. Reg, Kate, social workers . . . the police, they were all there, and had been since Charlie had finally admitted defeat and gone home with Leo’s grubby bandage stuffed in his pocket.

  He’d yet to admit that he’d found it by the canal, but then, once it had become clear that he’d returned home alone, no one had asked him anything else, and that was making him nervous. Did Kate and Reg know that Charlie and Leo spent every spare moment huddled up in bed, kissing the hell out of each other? Were they waiting for the police and social workers to leave before they forced Charlie to confess?

  Nah. If they do know, they won’t care until Leo’s home.

  If Leo was allowed home. Charlie had seen foster siblings disappear from his life over crimes less severe than the beating Leo had inflicted on Darren Stroud—broken nose, cracked ribs, a possible concussion. “He could’ve killed him,” one of the social workers had said. No one had argued.

  The front door opened. Heart in his mouth, Charlie spun on his heel, but it wasn’t Leo—it was Fliss, her expression as grim as Charlie had ever seen it.

  She rounded on him before she’d undone her coat. “If you know where he is, you have to tell them. This is serious, Charlie.”

  “I don’t know where he is.”

  “Real talk? Are you sure about that? Because I haven’t told Mum and Dad that you and Leo are together, but I will if I think you’re doing anything to make this horrible shit worse.”

  Charlie blinked. “We’re not together.”

  “Whatever. I don’t care. Just don’t play any silly games. You’ll only make it worse for him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Fliss inclined her head towards the living room. “What do you think they’re talking about in there? Do you think they’re having a nice little meeting about increasing Leo’s art therapy and taking him to church more?”

  “No one here goes to church.”

  “That’s not the point, Charlie!” Fliss’s shout echoed in the empty hallway. She glared at Charlie for a long moment before her expression softened. “Look, Leo’s messed up big time, but you and I both know that there’s no way he wanted to hurt that boy as bad as he did. He’s not an ASBO kid; he’s had some really horrible stuff happen to him.”

  “But Mum and Dad know that too, don’t they?”

  “Of course they do, but they don’t see the Leo that you see—that Lila sees—and the social workers have to assume the worst. Think, Charlie. Where would he go?”

  Charlie shook his head, struggling to grasp whatever it was that Fliss was trying to say. “I don’t know where he is. I’d tell you if I did, I swear.”

  “Damn straight, you would.” Andy emerged from the kitchen, a mug of tea dwarfed by his large hand. “Which is how I can tell that you don’t know jack. Leave him alone, Fliss. He’d say if he knew anything, right? Charlie?”

  “Right.” Charlie bit his lip, guilt surging through him even though he’d done nothing wrong. Because he did know something that no one else did . . . that he loved Leo, and that perhaps—maybe—that Leo loved him too. “Do you think . . . um—”

  “What?” Fliss snapped. “Spit it out.”

  “Fliss,” Andy said.

  “No, she’s onto something.” Charlie frantically tried to make sense of the images flashing through his mind. “Give me a minute.”

  Under the weight of Fliss’s glare and Andy’s obvious bewilderment, Charlie thought of every bad dream he’d ever watched Leo endure. Every mutter and murmur. Every cry. Every flinch of pain. “The house,” he whispered. “Leo and Lila’s old house . . . I—I think he’s gone there.”

  “Seriously?” Andy raised an eyebrow. “Why would he go there, of all places? There’s nothing left of it.”

  “What do you mean?” Charlie frowned as Fliss stamped on Andy’s foot, the message in her furious scowl clear: shut the fuck up. “Is that where the fire was?”

  Silence. A
ndy and Fliss stared each other down as new nausea roared in Charlie’s gut. Leo never talked about what had brought him and Lila to Kate and Reg’s door, and Charlie had assumed that Andy and Fliss were as ignorant as him, but it was obvious now that they both knew something he didn’t. “Jesus Christ, you two. Did Mum and Dad tell you what happened? Did you read the file?”

  Fliss flushed guiltily and ushered them all down the hall.

  “Great,” Charlie spat when they were a safe distance from the living room. “So Mum and Dad let you read it, Andy, because you’re so much more important than the rest of us, and you—” he rounded on Fliss “—you just helped yourself, didn’t you? Snuck into the office and read the whole thing because you’re a nosy bitch—”

  “Charlie!” Reg spoke quietly from behind Charlie, but his tone silenced them all as much as any shout ever could. “What’s going on out here?”

  Charlie pursed his lips, like he could push all the rage back in, even as his arms jittered, desperate to lash out at Fliss, at the wall—anything to ease the fury boiling in his veins. Is this how Leo feels all the time? The theory burned Charlie’s heart, along with guilt at the certainty that Leo had battered Darren Stroud for giving Charlie pills that he’d willingly shoved down his throat.

  This is my fault.

  “No, it isn’t, Charlie,” Reg said. “It’s no one’s fault. Leo has many problems—too many, perhaps, for us to deal with here.”

  Charlie jumped. Shit. Did I say that out loud?

  But Fliss shook her head before he could dwell on it much. “No, Dad. You can’t kick him out over this. Not after—”

  “After what?” Charlie cut in, ignoring the fact that he’d inadvertently voiced his worst fear. “Jesus, you take the fucking piss.”

  Reg held up his hand to silence Charlie and Fliss. “It’s not about who knows what, and it never has been. It’s about helping Leo as best we can, and right now, that means cooperating with the authorities who are perhaps better equipped to deal with this than we are.”