“And … I sort of told them that I was bringing a friend.”
“And what? You don’t have any friends?” he asked mockingly, a smirk tugging at his lips.
I shook my head, “I haven’t actually asked anyone to come with me. I don’t really want to go on my own.”
Cocking his head to one side, Casper looked over at me with intense grey eyes that made me feel cool and light. “Why not just ask Isabel to go with you?” he asked, toying with his milkshake.
“That won’t work,” I sighed, “She and my mum don’t get on well –”
“And you think I’ll be a good substitute?” he asked. His snort of derision made me cringe.
“I don’t know. I just don’t want to go on my own. And to be honest, Isabel doesn’t seem in the best of moods to play nice with anyone.”
Casper snorted again. I couldn’t help but agree. Despite the good terms Isabel and I were on, who knew what could set her off these days? I didn’t want to risk it in front of my parents. Not if I was going to convince them that I was ‘getting better’. I sighed and slouched back in my seat. “You don’t have to come,” I eventually murmured, “I get that it’s weird. It’d be for the two weeks, more or less.”
Clicking his tongue, he said, “We get three weeks off, Fletcher.”
“I know, but I figured I needed a week to myself after visiting them to get my head back in gear.”
Nodding in understanding, Casper wriggled out of his seat. “Alright well I’d need to think about it,” he shrugged, “But I don’t see that there’d be much of a problem.”
I blinked and hurried after him as he left the restaurant, doing his coat up as he waited outside. He glanced up at me as he cupped a hand around his mouth. There was a click and then the aroma of cigarette smoke wafted into the air. I inhaled the smell deeply before sighing and patting my pockets down, the craving for a smoke prickling at the back of my throat. My pockets were empty. I almost pouted –almost. “Hey can I have one of those?” I asked cigarette as he blew smoke into the crisp air.
He nodded and held his pack out to me. I plucked one out and leaned over as Casper flicked his lighter on and cupped his hand around the flame. My heart thumped loudly in my ears at being so close to him. His eyes locked onto mine and held my gaze as the end of my cigarette fizzled. I groaned at the delicious taste running over my tongue, “Oh God that feels good!”
Casper smirked before turning and jerking his head at the road back to campus, “Come on, Fletcher. Let’s walk and talk.”
“About what?”
“You wanted us to ask questions about one another.”
I pursed my lips and hummed, “Yeah but do we have to do it out in the open?”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t say much else as we walked up the long, winding road to the campus. When we got to the gates we ground the cigarettes out underfoot. “Come on,” Casper led me back inside.
I felt like I was being pulled along by an invisible string that was wrapped in his fingers. We wove our way in and out of people as they flocked to and from places to hang around. By the time we got up to my room I was flushed from the change in temperature. Once the coats were hung up on the back of my door, Casper turned around to fix me with his firm gaze. “So what’s your story?” he asked bluntly.
“What do you mean?”
“Your story, Fletcher; your parents, your siblings, your life growing up; I want to know.”
Casper narrowed his eyes and settled down on the end of my bed, stretching his legs out, mirroring my movements. “Are we going to do a question each or …?” I trailed off, my skin prickling at the prospect of sharing information about myself.
“We could always write some questions down and put it in a hat,” his lip twitched at his own sarcasm.
“Okay,” I turned to my desk and reached for a blank piece of paper and started scribbling questions down.
“I was kidding!” he protested, kicking the back of my chair. I continued to write, ignoring him.
Questions written, I folded the papers several times before popping them into an empty mug and holding it out between us, “Pick one.”
Glaring at me he stuck his fingers in and pulled out a slip. He unfolded the slip. In a dry monotone he asked, “‘Where did you grow up?’ Jesus! That is so lame, Fletcher.”
Rolling my eyes I said, “Just answer the question.”
“I grew up in Essex. DO NOT laugh,” he warned in a low voice.
I tried to bite back a snicker. “Fair enough; I grew up in London, but went out to live with my Grandparents and Uncle in Brighton when things got tough.”
“Tough?”
I shook my head with a faint smile and plucked a slip out of the cup. “My turn.” I unfolded the slip, “What was your favourite subject at school?”
“Art and Design, obviously,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “You?”
“History,” I held the cup out, “Your turn.”
“How old were you when you came out to your parents?” he pursed his lips, “It was never really a big thing. I just told them in the heat of an argument one day. Naturally they didn’t believe me. I threw myself into my school work and … a-after a while they got used to it. After that … it just never really came up.” He clenched his jaw, the muscles ticking under his skin. I felt shame light my cheeks. I wanted to reach out to him but I could see his barriers were popping up around him. “What about you? What age were you?”
“Sixteen,” my palms were starting to sweat. I could taste blood and I could smell my body heating up. “It took a while for me to get the courage, but my then boyfriend eventually convinced me. Suffice to say it was the worst weekend of my life.”
“Why?” I shook my head and jiggled the cup. “Fuck the cup, Fletcher, just tell me!”
I glared up at him. “Fine,” I dropped my head down to my chest. My mum rejected me. Why was it so hard to say those words? Other than my pathological need for my mum to love me, why was her reaction to my sexuality still so raw and painful?
“My mum is Catholic. She wasn’t devout or anything but she decided to hide behind her religion when I told her. She started going to church more regularly and not just on Sundays. She’d drag me with her, hoping the Lord could cure me. Eventually my dad put his foot down and stood up for me, telling her to stop being such a bigot. She calmed down a little. Only went to church on Sundays but she did insist on dragging Katelyn with her. She didn’t want my sister near me, afraid that she’d catch my gayness and start liking girls.” I let out a bitter laugh. It was no wonder I was such a mess when it came to relationships. As soon as anyone heard the coming-out story, they turned and looked for someone with less baggage. I scrubbed my hands against my eyes and blinked the hot tears away. “My turn,” I choked out as I pulled out another slip. I glanced at the question and almost smiled at the silliness of it. “What’s your favourite bad movie?”
The questions continued this way for a while. I learned quite a lot about him and was glad there was now a background to him. Suddenly he seemed more solid, more real and I truly relished that. I don’t know if he felt the same but as the sillier questions came out I did end up laughing a lot and he even smiled a few times. I wanted to make him laugh but I’d take a smile any day instead of his silence. I desperately wanted it to be enough. Later on when I was faced with a long night ahead of me, the pill glaring up at me from my palm, I felt empty. I downed it with water and then turned in for the night. On Monday we needed to present our work so far to our professor.
I wanted to be ready.
Chapter Sixteen
“So Avery, how did your meeting go on Monday with your music professor?”
I glanced up at Camilla, toying with a small chain of paperclips between my fingers. I hummed in response and leaned back in the chair. “It went alright. He said the animation –the basic version we’re using for the Music project –is good, but he said that some of the rifts –mainly mine –weren’t up to s
cratch. Apparently my piano sections are ‘lacking something’.”
Camilla frowned a little. “Well do you think that’s something you’ll be able to achieve in time for the exams?”
“I don’t know. I thought they sounded good, especially combined with the other sections of music, but apparently something is hitting the ear wrong, that I’m just not picking up on.”
“Have you thought of possibly going to the recording studios and playing the pieces as one? Maybe adding a few backing tracks of the other two instruments?”
Our professor had said the same thing. Isabel wasn’t too keen on the idea, as usual wherever Casper was concerned, but to my surprise, even he was a little wrong-footed by the concept of going back to square one and re-recording everything. “I just don’t want to feel like we’re starting over. We almost had it done. We were so close to finalizing everything and then this gets thrown in our faces.”
“Recording music as a whole group really isn’t a bad thing. If anything, it’ll give you more sounds to work with before you finalize everything.”
“I guess,” I grumbled, not wanting to admit that the thought had crossed my mind. I raked my hands through my hair. “It’s just frustrating and I want this to be perfect. I’m relying on this grade for my future. Probably more than I should be.”
“Why don’t you put some more effort into focusing on your other subjects too?”
“I chose History because I used to like it, but I love my music. It’d be difficult to even think about getting anywhere with it, unless I make myself a bloody YouTube sensation.” I snorted at the idea. There was a one in a million chance of that ever happening. Frankly, it would have to be either amazing covers or purely original songs that get over a thousand views in a week. It wasn’t impossible, but I also wasn’t the only one trying to ‘make it’ online. I blinked in the realisation that I didn’t know what Casper intended to do after we graduated. The sense of the unknown left me feeling hollow.
“You can still manage perfectly well with doing a teaching job and performing your music online,” Camilla said in a calming voice.
“I know, I know.” I bit down on my lip, “I just think I’m stressed about going home for the holidays.”
“Ah, so that’s the real problem then.”
“Well of course. In three weeks I’ll be packing my stuff to go to their house and it’s not going to be a fun couple of weeks.”
Camilla nodded slowly. “Well you know that as long as you go there, as soon as anything bad happens, you can come back. You have my number so you can always call me if things are getting too intense.”
I nodded. I knew I wouldn’t do that unless it was extremely difficult to stay with my parents. Considering Casper was going to be with me, I didn’t know if that would improve the situation or worsen it. “I’ll definitely call if it gets too much,” I finally said, just to have something to fill the silence.
“Good. Now have you decided who’s going with you?” she asked.
“Casper seems to have agreed to come with me.”
“What do you mean by ‘seems’?” she asked with a smile.
I rolled my eyes at her, “Well you know what Casper’s like. He’s hardly forthcoming with what he feels.”
She laughed, “Yes that’s true. I have to admit, you’ve quite surprised me, Avery.”
“I have?” I blinked in surprise at her tone, “How?”
“Well, for starters, just two months ago you and Casper were just about speaking to one another for the project, and now you’re inviting him to your house? It’s … big steps.”
I shrugged, feeling a little at a loss for words. “Yeah well … I like him.”
She cocked her head and smiled, “Well if it makes you feel any better, I think you’d be good for one another.”
I ducked my head just as the clock chimed four o’clock. I glanced up and frowned, “Was that really a whole hour?”
She closed her notepad and placed it on the coffee table between us. “I know, the time flies doesn’t it?” She leaned back in her chair, still smiling. How could she be so cheerful all the time doing what she does? “You know if you and Casper ever want to get out one night, we can always go out for a bite to eat.”
“As a friend and not a therapist, right?” I asked, cocking a teasing eyebrow.
She laughed, “Of course. It might do you both good.”
“Well I’ll have to see. Apparently there might be something on this weekend but I don’t know the details.”
She held up her hand and shook her head. “No rush. Just drop me a text whenever you’re both free and we’ll arrange. Unofficially of course,” she winked before waving me away, “Go on, go back to your dorms and relax.”
“I’ll see you next week!” I called over my shoulder as I hurried out of the room.
As soon as I made my way outside and traipsed along the gravel paths, I ducked my head against the wind and hugged my arms around my stomach. I felt a little lighter, like I usually did after speaking with Camilla. As I made my way through the doors and finally into my room, I grabbed my phone and scrolled through the unread messages. A couple from Isabel just asking me to text her when I was out, and a single one from Casper asking me to stop by his room as soon as I was free.
I ducked into my room and dumped my bag on my bed before sniffing around my collar. I quickly sprayed myself with Lynx before pocketing my key-card and closing the door behind me. I ambled along the corridor and made my way towards Casper’s room and knocked. With my hands in my pockets, I waited for him to answer. I watched the door for a while before I heard the lock ‘click’ and it swung open. I smiled as Caser stood there, framed in his doorway, his dark hair falling in front of his eyes. His mouth twitched as he stepped aside, letting me in.
“How was your session with Camilla?” he asked, closing the door behind me.
“It went ok,” I said as I took charge of the desk-chair. “We talked about me going to see my parents over Easter.”
“Did you mention me?” he intoned as he reached up on his bookcase for a couple of glasses.
“Of course I did. I practically mention you every time.”
He snorted to himself as he leaned back lazily against the wooden shelves. He cocked an eyebrow at me and smirked, “I’m sure ‘mild obsession growing erratic’ has now been entered into your record.”
I rolled my eyes at him, “Yeah well since I’ve been hanging out with you on a regular basis my sarcasm levels have hit rock bottom.”
“They seem fine to me,” he said, draining his glass in three long gulps, the water reflecting off his pale throat.
I felt my mouth run dry. I took a gulp and swallowed. “Yeah well around other people then. All this emotion creeping through,” I shook my head, “It’ll give me a bad reputation.”
“You?” he scoffed, “What about me? I’m actually happy now! And smiling! People will start to notice.”
I looked up at him and couldn’t help but smile and chuckle at his serious expression. My laughter must have had a magic effect, though, because he ducked his head and smiled down at the glass in his hand. I quietened down, clearing my throat just as another thought clicked in my head. “So, are you saying that you’re happy now?” I hedged warily, keeping my eyes focused on the glass in my hands.
“I’m happier,” he stressed the last syllable, shifting away from the bookcase and coming over to stand in front of me. I looked up at him and he stared down, his eyes open and firm as he watched me. “You’ve made me happier,” he stated, reaching out to take a lock of my hair between his fingers and move it out of my eyes. My heart thumped in my ears and my stomach squirmed at how close he was. He smelled clean and soft, but the firmness of his body under those layers was enough to send a thrill running through me. I wanted to touch him, I did, but I wasn’t going to object to him willingly touching me, even if it was only a lock of my hair.
“Did you … uh … Need me for something?” I asked a little stiffl
y as his hand fell back to his side and he settled down on the edge of his bed.
“I do actually,” he replied, head to one side; “I’ve booked the recording studio for a session this afternoon at 5PM. I’ve text Isabel but she didn’t reply to me. Did she mention anything to you?”
“No she didn’t mention anything.”
“Oh well. I thought we could record one of the tracks of our piece together. See if it really does sound better than the ones we currently have.”
“I wouldn’t mind that. Would it still work without Isabel?” I asked. “I just have a feeling she won’t come,” I elaborated as he cast me a cool, blank look.
With a roll of his eyes he stood up and stretched his muscles so that a sliver of his skin flashed from beneath the hem of his jumper. Grabbing his key-card he made for the door. “Come on then,” he gestured to the empty hallway outside.
I frowned as he waited; his voice suddenly flat and his eyes downcast. His shoulders were tense as he reached behind the door and picked up his violin case. I made sure to leave enough room between us as I moved past him into the hall. He locked his door and together we made our way out of the building.
The silence between us was thick and heavy as we made our way outside but I made no attempt to breach it. I knew my relationship with Isabel was a sore spot for him. We needed to work together as a group if we were going to succeed and get a top grade for our assignment. However, I knew Isabel would wait until the last minute to even agree to a group session. She wouldn’t mind doing any of the ones with just me, but she was adamant to not be alone with Casper. It was stupid, especially considering they’d been getting along better recently, if begrudgingly.
Ethan gave us a thumbs-up through the glass screen as I adjusted my headphones. The studio had been empty when we’d gotten there just before 5PM, except for Ethan who was enjoying some rare quiet time and a coffee. The headphones felt heavy over my ears and I could hear the rush of blood. I glanced over at Casper but he was too busy making sure his violin strings were strung properly. He tested it out, the long note striking something inside me that seemed to make my heartstrings sing. His eyes lifted up to look at me and I offered him a shaky smile before settling down in front of the piano.
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