The Devil's Trill Sonata

by Matthew J. Metzger

  “At the Chinese takeaway,” she said, plucking her phone out of its cradle on the wall. “Chang’s or Li Han’s on the high street?”

  “Chang’s,” Darren voted. He’d gone with a few people on his training course, as a kind of icebreaker evening. It had been awkward, because one of the girls was blatantly after the job to get a policeman boyfriend and wouldn’t stop talking about their databases instructor, who was, it was otherwise generally agreed, a right ugly bastard. “They do wicked duck spring rolls. Try them.”

  “Eh, I like the veggie ones,” Rachel said, dialling. “What do you want?”

  “Whatever. Something in black bean sauce. And loads of it.”

  “Duck?”

  “Yeah, whatever,” Darren said.

  “You’re a human dustbin, aren’t you?” Rachel asked, wedging the phone against her shoulder. Darren found the football on her TV and settled in. “No!”

  “You can change it once you’ve ordered the food, wench,” Darren said flatly. He felt her scowling at him, but ignored it. He’d have to get used to establishing control over the TV; Jayden wasn’t interested in football either. (Mind you, he probably wasn’t interested in The L Word, come to think of it.)

  “Okay, gimme that,” Rachel said once the food was ordered and the phone was down. “We’re not watching football. How was your day?”

  “Crap.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, my housemate kidnapped me from my flat and refused to let me watch football.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Rachel said. “How’s your boyfriend? Jayden?”

  “Same as last week.” Mostly because they hadn’t spoken since last week. Jayden had been too busy to Skype at the weekend, apparently, but he’d been texting a fair bit, so Darren wasn’t too bothered yet. He had shit to do, after all.

  “Don’t you miss him?”

  “Nope. Don’t you miss yours?” Darren parried. He wasn’t particularly interested—he was semi-sure Rachel was gay anyway, especially as she had the entire box set of The L Word under her bed—but he was even less interested in the film she’d switched over to. Something featuring, so far, no hot actor, no hot actress, and no explosions. In short: boring.

  “I haven’t got a boyfriend.”

  “Girlfriend, then.”

  “I haven’t got a girlfriend either,” Rachel said quietly.

  Darren shrugged. “Want one? I have insane single friends and colleagues.”

  Rachel said nothing. When Darren glanced at her, she was picking at a cushion she’d pulled into her lap.

  “Why the face?”

  She flushed. “Um. I’ve…don’t laugh.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’veneverhadapartner.”

  “Sorry?”

  She went from pink to a fetching cherry-red. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or an anyone.”

  “…Okay…”

  Cherry-red remained for a stubborn minute.

  “How old are you?” Darren double-checked, and cherry-red turned into a fierce magenta.

  “Twenty-two,” she ground out. “It’s not like I’ve never been asked, Darren!”

  He shrugged. “Well, whatever.”

  “I’ve…you know. Never met anyone.”

  Darren mentally rolled his eyes. He knew that tone, mostly from Jayden, very occasionally from Ethan having a queer moment. It was the I want to talk, but I don’t want to spell it out tone. The let’s have a conversation about this tone. Sighing, he switched off entirely from the boring film (it wasn’t hard to do) and twisted to face her.

  “There’s nothing wrong with not meeting anyone,” he said carefully.

  “No, I mean…it’s…I’m…” She went purple and pulled a long feather from the ragged-looking cushion. “You can’t laugh, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I’masexual.”

  “Rach, I can’t hear you when you just…babble at me.”

  “I’m asexual.”

  There was a short pause. Rachel was still staring avidly at the cushion; Darren didn’t really know what to say. Or, you know, what she’d said, really.

  “As in…plants, or as in, not?”

  “Um, the latter.”

  “So you’re…not-sexual?”

  “Yes.”

  “…Meaning?”

  “Meaning…meaning I don’t…you know, do sex. I don’t…I’m not interested in it. I don’t…I don’t have a sex drive.”

  “…Okay, so…what, you’re never turned on?”

  “No.”

  “Or sexually attracted to people?”

  “No.”

  “Or anything?”

  “Yes, Darren, I shag cats,” she said sarcastically, but she was chewing on the edge of her thumbnail. She looked tense, the lines tight in her face, every angle of her bony frame stiff. “No. Not anything. I mean, like…are you sexually attracted to anything in this room?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s me. All the time.”

  “…Okay,” Darren said and ducked his head to peer at her. “You sure?”

  “Yeah,” Rachel mumbled. “Unfortunately.”

  Darren frowned. “Rach? I’m not going to laugh, you know.”

  She was still magenta and very definitely not looking at him.

  “People like what they like,” he said slowly. “Or don’t. You are what you are.”

  She clutched her cushion and bit her lip. “I’ve…people think there’s something wrong with me,” she mumbled.

  “Yeah, well, fuck them,” Darren said, shrugging. “People think there’s something wrong with me. Doesn’t matter what they think.”

  She eyed him. “Like what?”

  Darren shrugged. “Like I’m a sex maniac for being bisexual.”

  “…People think I’m a prude. Or I was abused or something. Or I have hormone problems. Or I need fixing.”

  “People are always going to think you need fixing if you’re not like them,” Darren said gently.

  She took a deep breath and crawled across the sofa to hug him. She was bony and too tall but she cuddled up and Darren dropped an arm around her, settling back into the corner with her hair pressing into his jaw and cheek. “I never told anybody before,” Rachel mumbled. “Not really.”

  “Why start with me?”

  “I don’t know. You’re gay, bi, whatever you are. I thought maybe you’d understand.”

  Honestly, he didn’t. Never being interested in sex wasn’t something he could understand—that part of his brain (and boxers) had woken up when he was about twelve or thirteen and never shut up again. But he supposed he could understand that sense of being…abnormal.

  “Thanks,” Rachel mumbled into his collarbone.

  Darren squeezed. “Do I get a reward?”

  “Like what?”

  “Can we watch something decent instead of this film?”

  Then she hit him, and the moment was lost.

  Chapter 5

  Jayden liked the college dining hall. Although it was more of a small canteen, with the most modern furniture in the entire building, he rather liked it. It was always noisy and filled with chatter, and it was a bit like being at school again, when things had been simpler. They had to wear suits to dinner, but breakfast and lunch were more of a free-for-all, and Jayden liked being able to sit with his floor but not have to contribute.

  He hated being out of his depth. He hated discussion being around things he didn’t understand—and the fact was, he didn’t care about politics and economic theory and the shameful stance by the U.S. on the environment or lesbians’ rights to adopt. Maybe he should, but he didn’t. He cared about plays and books and gay films and things; most of the things he cared about weren’t even that big and were just little personal things, like Mum and Dad, and Darren. So mealtimes were the times he could just nod along with Ella or Jonathon while they held court on whatever issue was topical at the time, and nobody would actually grill him or find out he didn’t really k
now much.

  He usually sat with his floor. Leah and Tim were a bit sporadic about dinner—Leah always had hockey club, and Tim had drama club, and so Jayden both couldn’t guarantee they’d be there, or guarantee they wouldn’t start trying to persuade him to join. Hockey would be easy—he’d never even played hockey in his life, he hated doing sport—but Tim’s temptation of drama was painfully strong, and Jayden just couldn’t spare the time yet. Maybe when he got used to all this, but not yet, so he sat with his own floor and lost himself in the hubbub of current issues.

  Today, though, the hockey club poured in about halfway through, and Leah made her way over to Jayden’s table. She looked even chunkier in a pleated hockey skirt, but somehow nicer too, with her flushed face and windswept hair. (The mud up her socks Jayden could do without, but that was the exact reason he didn’t like sports.) She clapped him hard on the back, grinning, and said, “Haven’t seen you since Monday, that’s nuts. How you doing?”

  “All right,” he said, twisting to talk to her. “You?”

  “Oh, we lost,” she said cheerfully. “Never mind. You up for a couple of pints later? It’s Friday, and Tim said you didn’t hang about after your seminar this morning.”

  “Maybe later,” Jayden hedged. “I have to finish seminar prep for Monday, and then call Darren.”

  “How is he?”

  “Sorry,” Ella interrupted. She was sitting opposite Jayden, and eyeing Leah’s socks distastefully. “It is a formal dress code.”

  “‘Cept if you’ve just come off the field,” Leah retorted, scowling. “I know my rules.”

  “Sorry.” Ella pulled back a little, and her facial expression didn’t change, but frost seemed to form around her words. “Have we been introduced?”

  “No,” Leah said flatly.

  “Yes, well,” Ella continued after a pregnant pause, in which Jayden and Jonathon exchanged glances across the table. “Ella Mays-Wright.”

  “That’s nice,” Leah said flatly, folding her arms under her considerable breasts. She probably outweighed Ella by a hundred and fifty percent.

  Jayden bit his lip. “Um, Ella, this is Leah. Leah, Ella.”

  “Pleasure,” Leah said, in the same tone Mum said his name when he snuck in far too late after a night out with Darren. The tone that said this is the least pleasurable thing that’s happened to me all day, and I’m not afraid to show it.

  “How do you know Jayden?” Ella asked.

  “We met,” Leah said shortly and looked very deliberately to Jayden, shutting Ella out as best she could manage. “Well, we’ll be in the basement bar until pretty late. Drowning sorrows and all that. Join us once you’re done with your boyfriend.”

  Jonathon smiled into his salad, and Jayden flushed, kicking him under the table. “It’s just a phone call,” he insisted.

  “Sure,” Leah drawled, and Ella wrinkled her nose distastefully. “Right, well, see you later, Jay.”

  Jayden rolled his eyes—he hated that nickname—but nodded. He watched Ella watch her go, and frowned. “Don’t you like Leah?”

  “She’s…not the kind of girl I’d normally get on with,” Ella allowed. Jayden could see that, and he nodded, but Jonathon frowned.

  “She’s all right,” he said quietly. “I got talking to her in the library last week.”

  “She’s just a little…coarse,” Ella said delicately, then waved a hand and smiled at Jayden. “So how is your boyfriend? Darren?”

  “Yeah.” Jayden pushed his dessert around his plate. “He’s all right. He’s a bit bored at work lately…”

  Ella switched off quickly; her eyes followed Leah to the food counter and back to her regular table, and she ate slowly and thoughtfully, something churning behind those huge blue eyes. Jayden didn’t mind; Ella, he was learning, could be quite intimidating and ruthless if she wanted to be, and he liked not having her focus on him. Especially as, when she’d first learned about Darren, she’d messaged him on Facebook and had been ignored. Ella hated being ignored, and she’d been a bit starchy about Darren since.

  Jonathon seemed more interested though, and when Jayden had finished explaining why they were so far apart, he said, “I have to admit, I’m a bit jealous.”

  “Why?” Jayden asked.

  “You found someone,” Jonathon said. “At school, no less. I grew up in rural Devon, I’m fairly sure I was literally the only gay in the village.”

  Jayden eyed him. “You’re…?”

  “Mm,” Jonathon said and pulled a face. “Are you…sorry, I mean, we don’t have to talk about this.”

  “No, it’s fine,” Jayden said, bemused.

  “Are you out at home? To your parents?”

  “Yes,” Jayden said. “I told them just after Darren and I got together.” Darren still teased him about that.

  Jonathon sighed and rolled his eyes. “And they were…?”

  “They’re fine with it. They’ve met him and everything. I think my mum likes Darren more than me,” Jayden added, but it was all right, because she mostly liked him because he’d eat anything she cooked. And everything in general, really, Darren was a bit of a dustbin for edibles. “Aren’t you?”

  “No,” Jonathon said. “My Dad’s ultra-conservative. He was furious with my sister for getting pregnant before she got married, even though she’s been with her husband for like, ten years.”

  “That’s not conservative, that’s backward,” Ella said sharply. For once, Jayden had to agree with her.

  “I don’t think I’ll be coming out before my first job,” Jonathon said wryly and smiled at Jayden. “I don’t know, it’s just nice. To know that you can find someone.”

  Jayden flushed and smiled at his plate. “Well…it was a big bit of luck. We weren’t at the same school back then. I interrupted his music practice at the theatre, and…”

  “Love at first sight?” Ella asked in an odd tone.

  “Not quite,” Jayden said. “Maybe a couple of months later.”

  “And you still love him?”

  “Of course he does,” Jonathon said, pushing Ella’s shoulder. “Don’t be so sceptical, Els. Love’s real and Jayden’s just dead lucky.”

  She hummed. “Yeah. Lucky.”

  Jayden ignored her and texted Darren under the table. I’m lucky, he told him, but didn’t get a reply.

  * * * *

  “Lucky?”

  Jayden smiled. They were on Skype (he’d finally gotten his webcam to work) and he was lounging on his bed with the laptop, where the signal for the college Wi-Fi was best. Darren was apparently on a sofa; Jayden could faintly hear a TV in the background.

  “We got talking about you,” he said. “And I was told how lucky I am to have you.”

  “Whoever said that’s obviously not met me, then.”

  “I think they meant a boyfriend in general,” Jayden said, chewing on a ragged edge of nail. “Still love you.”

  “I know, you told me last night. Apart from being lucky and loving me, how’s things?”

  “You are so unromantic,” Jayden complained.

  “Yep. So? How’s things?”

  “Busy,” Jayden moaned. “Still loads of work. And Leah and Ella had a bit of a confrontation today; I don’t think they like each other.”

  “Leah?”

  “Rutherford.”

  “Oh, right. The hockey girl.”

  “Yeah. Well, she doesn’t like Ella, or Ella doesn’t like her. Or both. They had a really frosty introduction at dinner today.”

  “Ella the blonde one who tried to chat me up?”

  “She didn’t try and chat you up.”

  “Jayden, she actually said it’s a shame I’m taken.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Hang on.” Darren leaned forward and tapped around for a couple of minutes, then sat back. “I quote: ‘Hi Darren! I’m Ella, I go to Cambridge with Jayden!’ And a couple of emotes I haven’t figured out yet. ‘He’s told us loooads about you, he’s raving. Can’t blame him though,
I looked through your pics. Shame you’re taken, eh? Love Ella.’ And a couple of kisses.”

  “Delete it.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Uh, yeah. Only I send kisses.”

  “Paul and Ethan both send me kisses.”

  “They’re joking manly kisses, they don’t count.”

  “Paul has kissed me.”

  “That was a dare,” Jayden said hotly. It hadn’t been a funny dare either. It had been last Christmas, and Ethan had produced mistletoe and caught Paul and Darren under it, and then when Darren had tried to escape, Paul had said he was afraid, so Darren had planted one on him. With tongue and everything. Jayden had not been impressed. “He doesn’t do it again. Like, ever, and if you even think about it…”

  “Chill,” Darren said, grinning. “He’s not as good as you.”

  “Damn right,” Jayden muttered and bent his legs to tip the laptop a bit closer. “Anyway. How’re you?”

  “Tired.”

  “What kind of tired?”

  “Normal tired,” Darren said. “Got up at six o’clock this morning.”

  “Why?” Jayden demanded.

  “Car alarm went off,” Darren said. “God knows why, think I might have a big moth in there or something. The internal alarm wouldn’t shut up, I had to disable it and get Trev to look at it.”

  “Trev?”

  “Guy on my course. Used to work with VOSA, checking out if cars were fit for the road and stuff,” Darren said. “It’s all right for the minute, but I’m whacked.”

  Jayden stroked a finger down the edge of the screen. “Go to bed if you want,” he said.

  “Nah.” Darren offered a crooked smile. “Rather get a bit of time in with you. Never seem to anymore.”

  Jayden huffed. “This sucks.”

  “Should have applied to Southampton.”

  “The thing about Cambridge University is that it’s in Cambridge,” Jayden said tartly.

  “Yeah, yeah. Relax.” Darren rolled his eyes. The image stuttered for a second, and Jayden suppressed a snigger. “Your mum rang me today.”

  “Yeah? About what?”

  “Checking up on me, apparently,” Darren said. “Seeing if I’d starved to death.”

  “She doesn’t check up on me.”