by Nicola Haken
“Yeah. I got another letter about it in my bag too. The balance needs to be paid by September.”
“Go grab it for me,” I told him.
Groaning, like moving was such a monumental effort, Tyler huffed and puffed as he hauled himself off the couch and went upstairs.
Seconds later, Rhys returned with a bag of frozen chicken nuggets and a tea towel. “Ta dah!” he sang, wrapping the bag of nuggets in the towel before walking over to me and placing it on top of my wrist.
“Thanks,” I muttered, raising a suspicious eyebrow. “But you didn’t come here to take care of me. If you were concerned you wouldn’t have laughed when I told you what happened on the phone this morning.”
“Damn right I didn’t. I came to ask for all the dirty details.”
“Shh! Ty’ll be down in a se-”
A thump coming from the hallway interrupted me, followed by Tyler calling, “Bag’s at the bottom o’ the stairs! I’m gettin’ a bath!”
Rhys rubbed his hands together. “Problem solved. So come on, what’s he like? Tall? Stumpy? Camp? Grrr?”
“He’s…Funny. Sarcastic. Sweet. And definitely grrr.” Leaning forward, I reached into my back pocket and plucked out my phone. Unlocking it, I tapped open my image gallery, frowning at the crack in the screen that happened during my epic fall, and handed it to Rhys. “That was right before I went flying on my arse.”
“Oh yeah,” he said, nodding in what looked like approval. “Grrr factor for sure. He looks like that Welsh guy in Titanic and the Fantastic Four film whose name I can’t pronounce.”
What’s with all the celebrity comparisons? “Ioan Gruffudd?” I didn’t know if I was pronouncing it correctly either, and I certainly couldn’t see the resemblance myself.
“Yep, that’s the one.” He passed my phone back. “You gonna see him again?”
“I saw him today. On my lunch break. He turned up in his big truck.” I couldn’t prevent the cheesy grin that took over my face when I spoke, or even thought about him.
“The plot thickens!” Rhys said, crossing one leg over the other as he sat up straight on the coffee table in front of me. “Did he take you for a ride?”
“No. No riding took place, literally or otherwise. Sorry to disappoint. I’m seeing him again tomorrow.”
“Wow. You’ll be engaged by weekend.”
I knew he was joking yet, still, my smile faded. “You think so? Not that I’ll be engaged, just that it’s too much too soon? I’ve never really done this before. I don’t wanna scare him off.”
“Did he give the impression that he didn’t want to see you tomorrow?”
“Well, no. He suggested it. He suggested tonight actually, but I didn’t want to leave Ty two nights in a row.”
“You’ve told him about Ty?”
“Not yet. We’ve had one date and dinner in his truck. No need to get all serious until I see if it gets, well, serious.”
Discussing Tyler made me sigh. “And then there’s Ty. We’ve hit a rocky patch these last few months, and it feels like I’m neglecting him spending so much time thinking about myself…and it’s only been a few days. If I carry on seeing Seb, that’s only going to get worse. I don’t know if I’ve got enough room in my head to think about anyone else. Sure, it feels new and refreshing now, but it can’t last. Part of me thinks I should just call it all off and wait till Ty’s older.”
“Darlin’, you’re not neglecting Ty, you’re excluding him. He’s not a little kid anymore. Stop hiding the world, hiding yourself, from him. Maybe the reason he doesn’t talk to you is because you don’t talk to him either.”
“I…” Turned out I didn’t have an answer for that, most likely because he might’ve been right.
“Where’d you tell him you were last night?”
“With you.”
Rhys sighed. Or maybe huffed. Whatever it was, his expression told me I was about to get a fatherly-type lecture, that would no doubt make perfect sense even if I didn’t want it to, as usual. “Well he knows that’s bollocks because I just spent the past hour tellin’ him about how I almost blew myself up tryin’ to fix my mam’s vacuum cleaner last night. So if he knows you lie to him, why should he be honest with you? You’re not settin’ a very good example.”
“All right, all right, I get it,” I said, pouting as I removed the chicken nuggets and soggy tea towel from my wrist and got up from the chair. I stomped into the kitchen and tossed them into the sink, staring out of the window at the overgrown grass.
“This guy makes you smile, Olli,” Rhys said, coming up behind me. “And you don’t do that nearly enough. So what if it’s fast? You’re makin’ up for lost time. Just…be happy. See what happens.” He nudged my shoulder with his. “Have some fun. It doesn’t kill you, I promise. And if it doesn’t work out you’ll have lost nothin’ and gained memories. Life’s for livin’, sweetness. So live it.”
“He does make me smile,” I agreed…smiling, unsurprisingly. “So much it’s kinda ridiculous.”
“Just go easy. Crow’s feet aren’t your friend.”
Laughing, I turned and threw my arms around his neck, hugging him. “Thank you. You’re the dad I never had,” I said, partly because it was true, but mostly because it annoyed the hell out of him. Rhys was only eight years older than me but he was becoming increasingly tetchy about his age as the terrifying four-oh drew closer with each year that passed.
“This bitch may be camp,” he said, pushing me back a step. “But I could still put your arse in the hospital. I have heels long enough to impale your puny little chest and come right out the other side.”
I wasn’t puny. I wasn’t exactly ripped but I wasn’t skinny either. More athletic, I liked to think. I had definition in all the right places.
“I’d tremble with fear, but I’m too tired. Are you stopping for tea?” I asked.
“Might as well. What we on?”
“Chicken nuggets...” I picked up the bag from the sink. “Seeing as they’re half defrosted, chips and beans.”
“How gourmet. You’re spoilin’ me.”
Fishing through the cutlery drawer, I pulled out the tin opener and tossed it to Rhys. “You’ll have to open the beans,” I said, holding up my wrist. Beans made me think of Seb, which of course made me smile. There was no point in trying to deny it. I was utterly, crazily, in lust with the man I’d only known for three days, and maybe Rhys was right. I should simply see what happened. Enjoy it, enjoy Seb, while it lasted.
Chapter Four
~Oliver~
MY WRIST FELT much better the next day. It was still a little stiff, but the bruising had faded from black to a dark blue and I could flex it in a full circle, although it made me wince. Still, I removed the stretchy bandage and felt confident enough to apply colours and wash hair at the salon, though I left cuts and blow dries to Claire and Dawn. I could also text with my right hand again, which was faster, easier, and resulted in fewer typos.
When my lunch break rolled around I knew it wouldn’t be half as exciting as yesterday for two reasons. A, because I’d used the money I usually spent on a BLT from the sandwich shop across the road to top up my phone after using all my credit texting Seb, which left me with a limp cheese butty I’d brought from home for dinner. And, B, because Seb was delivering around Birmingham today so I knew he wouldn’t be stopping by for a surprise visit.
What I didn’t know is that I’d get a phone call that would ruin my mood for the rest of the day.
“Hello?” I answered, concern lacing my tone as I picked up the call from Tyler’s school. Hearing from them in the middle of the day meant one of two things – he was in trouble, or hurt.
“Mr Clayton?” A female voice asked.
“Yes.”
“Hello there, this is Mrs Bramwell, head of pastoral care. I’m calling regarding an incident we’ve had with Tyler today.”
Oh, God. What’s he done now?
“He was caught smoking an e-cigarette in Geography this morn
ing.”
Blowing out a steady puff of air through pursed lips, I squeezed my eyes closed and rubbed at my temples, feeling utterly humiliated. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I have no idea where he got that from.”
In that moment I swear I wanted to choke the cocky little shit. I mean, I would’ve never laid a finger on him, but damn I was angry. He was showing off. Acting the hard man. Either that or he was plain fucking stupid. Why else would he have done something like that in a classroom? When I was at school smoking actual cigarettes was the cool, or should I say ‘beast’, thing to do, but we at least had the intelligence to hide our pathetic arses behind the bike shed.
“Mr Hanson confiscated the device and Tyler’s been issued with five behaviour points. He’ll also be spending tomorrow in the unit.” The unit was basically a spare classroom which they used for all-day detentions. Kids were taken there to work without the distraction of their friends or mobile phones, and if they didn’t complete their work, they spent the next day in the unit too.
“Of course. Yes,” I agreed. “Again, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into him these last few months.”
“I think he may be having some trouble with a couple of the boys in his…posse, for want of a better word. Tyler hasn’t mentioned anything but several incidents have been brought to my attention by other pupils. Has he said anything to you?”
“No. He…he doesn’t really talk about school much to me. What kind of incidents?”
“I can’t discuss other pupils with you I’m afraid, but from what I gather there’s been some social media bullying happening recently. We sent out some information and advice to parents in the school newsletter last month.”
Great. Tyler never remembered to give me stuff like that.
“I think it’s something worth discussing further with Tyler’s form teacher at parent conference next week, if you can make it. I notice you still haven’t made an appointment.”
Dammit, Tyler! “I didn’t know about it. He never gave me the letter.” My cheeks heated with a mix of anger and embarrassment. I’d never felt like such a crappy parent.
“Ah, I see. Well it’s next Tuesday. Give me a sec. I’ll get the available times for you.”
I heard the clicks and taps of a keyboard in my ear and I had to fight the urge to huff in frustration. I didn’t know whether to be raging mad at Tyler or be worried about him. Was he a bully? Or was he being bullied?
“Whatever time you have left, I can be there,” I said. I couldn’t believe Ty would’ve let me not show up and make it look like I didn’t give a shit about his education.
“Okay, all of the earlier slots are taken. Is seven fifty okay?”
“Absolutely. Thank you.”
“No problem. As usual, once you’ve spoken with his form tutor she’ll give you a printout with the order and classrooms of his other teachers. As for today’s events, we’d appreciate it if you could discuss it with him.”
“Oh, I will. Of course.” I just didn’t know how yet. Should I sit him down for a calm and rational conversation? Or should I scream and yell and confiscate his phone for three years like I wanted to right now?
When I ended the call I noticed another text from Seb, and my heart dropped all over again. I’d have to cancel tonight. Not only that, I’d have to conjure an excuse…a lie.
Sighing, I typed out a response.
Me: I’m getting a migraine. A really bad one. We’ll have to postpone tonight. :-(
Seemingly, a fake illness was the best thing I could come up with. I waited a few minutes for a reply and when it didn’t arrive I assumed he must’ve been driving. At least I hoped that was the reason, and it wasn’t that he didn’t believe me and I’d pissed him off. Either way, I didn’t have the time, or the room in my head, to dwell on it because my lunch break was up. So I did what I was best at. Tucking my phone into the pocket of my ripped, skinny jeans, I plastered a beaming fake smile on my face, raised my head high, and got back to work.
* * *
Tyler wasn’t in when I got home from work, which only made me angrier. On the positive side, high on rage, I managed to make tea – pie and mash – and get two loads of washing done, dried and ironed, too. I left Ty’s tea in the microwave while I waited for him to get home and thought back to what his teacher said about social media. I wasn’t his friend on Facebook because, apparently, that would’ve been embarrassing, but I searched out his profile to see if anything inappropriate lurked on it.
The last thing he posted was a selfie of him and another boy who I’d never seen before, just over a week ago. There were a handful of innocent comments underneath, but then followed a conversation that made my heart seize inside my chest.
Ben Johnson
That ur boyfriend u little shitstabber? :D
Kyle Mad4It Patrick
HAHA! Good 1 Ben! Ur Secrets out Tyler. We saw u chekin out Daryl Benson nob after PE!
Daryl Benson
Eww. Shut the fuck up
Ben Johnson
Soz Daryl. True dat. Tylers a ragin homo like his bro init LOL
Jessica Simms
You lot are well tight. Leave Ty alone
Kyle Mad4It Patrick
Aww Prissy Tyler needs a girl to stick up 4 him. Fuckin bender. HAHA!
Mitchell Murphy
I new it! Hey Leanne Loves-Ty Walker did u no ur boyfs a poof? ROFLMFAO!!!!
My first thought as I lowered the phone to my knee was why? Why hadn’t he removed these comments? Why had those boys said them in the first place? Why hadn’t Tyler told me about them?
Was it because of me?
Is this why he wanted me to ‘tone it down’?
I knew a couple of these boys. Not well, but enough to know they were Ty’s friends. They’d been in my house. Seemed like nice enough kids. A little gobby, perhaps, but polite. I certainly wouldn’t have considered them vile, homophobic bullies.
Was this even bullying? Or just kids being stupid? I mean, Tyler wasn’t gay. Right? I’d have known. He’d have told me. When I was his age the only other gay people I knew of were Simon and Tony, two fictional characters from a soap opera on TV, and even they kept their relationship a secret. I’d felt different, alone, and too embarrassed to share who I was with anyone. I only had access to the internet at school, and with it still being quite a new thing, there wasn’t nearly the wealth of support and information on it you’d find these days. Back then, if you were different in any way, you had to figure that shit out by yourself.
But things weren’t like that for Ty. He knew the only thing I’d ever wanted for him was happiness. Since he was four years old I’d told him he could be whatever he wanted to be, achieve whatever he dreamed of, love whomever he chose.
The creak of the wooden gate, followed by Tyler’s voice outside, pulled me from my thoughts and I sat up straight in the chair, crossing one leg over the other while I waited for him to come inside. I heard him toss his school bag on the floor in the hall, and then two quiet thuds as he kicked his shoes off against the wall before barging into the living room.
“Alright,” he said, tipping his chin in hello. “What’s for tea? I’m starvin’.”
“Yours is cold. Where’ve you been?”
“Yeah, soz. I went into town with Evan,” he explained, waving goodbye to who I assumed was Evan through the window. “And I’ve still got no credit on my phone.”
“Then you should’ve come home first and asked me if you could go. I’m your guardian, Tyler, not one of your mates.”
The sod had the cheek to groan. “Fine. I said I was sorry.”
“And what about smoking an e-cig in Geography? You sorry for that, too?”
Dropping his head, I could’ve sworn I heard him mumble something that sounded an awful lot like for fuck’s sake under his breath.
“Why’d you do it?” I asked, shaking my head.
With a shrug of one shoulder, he simply said, “I like it init.”
Init. It dr
ove me insane when he used that word. It didn’t take any extra effort to speak properly. I hardly talked like the queen, but at least my sentences made sense.
“Sit down, Tyler,” I told him, nodding towards the couch. We were going to talk this out whether he wanted to or not.
Huffing, he strolled over to the couch, dragging his feet, and slumped down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
“Look, I’ve been fourteen. I used to smoke, and you don’t smoke in the middle of a classroom because you like it, you do that to show off. So tell me why you feel the need to show off, Ty? Who were you trying to impress?”
“Nobody. I don’t need to impress nobody.”
“Are you being bullied?”
“What?” His arms flew up, his neck jerked back, and he started to laugh. Only there was no humour there. He was nervous, and my heart began to sink. “This is ridiculous. It was a bet, okay? It wasn’t even mine. I borrowed it off Ben. Can we just drop it now?”
“Who’s Evan?” I probed. “You’ve never mentioned him before.”
“He’s just a mate init,” he said, his voice flustered.
“Is he the lad in the last photo you posted on Facebook?”
Tyler’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “You’ve been goin’ through my Facebook?”
“There’re some nasty comments under that photo,” I said, queasiness descending on my stomach just from the memory of them.
“What kinda comments?”
“You’ve not seen them?”
“Told you, I’m outta credit and data. What comments?”
Not only was I uncomfortable repeating them aloud, I also thought I might be able to gauge his honest reaction better by watching him read them for himself. So, unlocking my phone, I brought up the photo on Facebook and stood up to hand it to him before sitting back down.
I studied his face and I knew the very second he’d read the first negative comment because his face paled and he rubbed at his jaw. Then, as if someone had sprinkled magical fairy dust over his head, he composed himself, fixed a nonchalant expression in place and tossed my phone on the cushion beside him.