october, age 18Â
When Lucas woke up on Saturday morning, he was struck by the sudden realisation that he had survived his first week of university. For an entire week, he had lived away from home – the longest he had ever been apart from either of his parents – and it had been ok. It had been just fine, really. Granted, it hadn’t been actual university. Rather, he had survived freshers’ week. That was possibly even more impressive: he had kept his cool for an entire week during which his new flatmates and future friends had been partying and coping with hangovers.
That wasn’t his scene at all. Though he didn’t mind a house party, when he had his own space that he could retreat to just to get away from it all, he hated going out. One night, on Audrie’s advice to let loose and give it a go just in case it was ok, he had headed out to one student night with the five students who now shared his university flat. The music had been too loud, the drinks too expensive, and he had grown frustrated trying to keep track of the people he had come with. As soon as he had made sure that everyone else was ok, he had walked home a little after midnight.
Just a week in, he wouldn’t call his new flatmates friends. It took a lot more than seven days of tipsy oversharing to reach that level and though they now knew more about him than Asher did. Or rather, they knew that he was madly in love with his best friend, who had no idea. At least, he hoped he had no idea. That was less painful than the possibility that Asher knew and kept that knowledge hidden, something that he vaguely recalled sharing with two of the girls he was living with after he’d had a little too much to drink.
As he lay in his bed with the gentle autumn sun on his cheeks, October just beginning a couple of days before his first proper term of university would, he could hear voices in the kitchen that the six of them shared. His room was closest to the kitchen, the only social area they had in the flat that had been the cheapest accommodation option, and he was growing to understand people’s patterns and habits, learning their voices through the wall.
Four boys and two girls. An unbalanced flat, as though the university housing association wanted to dissuade them from pairing up into three couples. That wouldn’t be a problem, Lucas thought: he had no intention of sparking up a relationship when he couldn’t get Asher out of his heart, even if Carey was ridiculously attractive, an Asian and Middle Eastern studies student whose various social media accounts painted him as a well-read cyclist with a string of ex-boyfriends. The other two guys, Xavier and Ned, weren’t the kind of people Lucas imagined he would ever be more than courteous with. They would share a flat for the year; that was probably it.
Of them all, Lucas had decided that Mira was his favourite. In the group chat they had started a month before moving into their flat, he had thought that he would get on with Hermione the best until he had learnt that she had never read the Harry Potter books or even seen the films and she had no interest in her namesake. That had been a bit of a bump in the road for them. She was a civil engineering student from Edinburgh and he loved the soft Scottish lilt in her voice, but she hated books. That was difficult for Lucas to get past.
Mira, however, had proved to be the right balance of engaging and respectful for him to grow to like her. She was the most interesting of all of them, an international student from Midwest America who had brought a lively sense of American confidence into the house with her. The two hadn’t spoken a great deal but Lucas knew she was the kind of person he would get on with: she reminded him of Mawar, a firecracker with a sharp wit and a soft smile.
She was unique, proud of her freckles and her heritage. She was an unapologetic outsider, who made no excuses for herself when aspects of English life confounded her. Lucas liked her honesty and her accent, quietly fascinated by the way she pronounced her words and the ones she changed all together.
It was her in the kitchen, that much was obvious. She had the most distinct tone, she and Hermione the most distinguishable while the guys could sound the same with a wall between them and him. She wasn’t holding a conversation with anyone: rather, she was narrating what she was doing as she did it. Having only moved over from Michigan a week ago, she had been thrust into a new life that was a source of constant amusement.
Although Lucas had spent his whole life doing whatever he could to avoid as much non-family human contact as possible, he had promised his parents that he would make an effort, even if only to keep the peace for the year that he would be sharing the house.
Instead of lying in his bed and waiting for Mira to leave, he pushed back the duvet and neatly made the bed again before he pulled on his slippers and neatened his glasses to join her in the kitchen.
“Morning!” She proudly cradled a mug of tea in her hands, having gone through an intense education when it came to using the electric kettle – Lucas had found her searching for a stove top one – and how to make a perfect cup of tea. After eighteen years of never drinking the stuff, she had become an addict in a week. “Oh my God, your pyjamas are super cute.”
Lucas looked down at himself. “Thanks, Mira,” he said before he looked back at her. She didn’t leave much to the imagination, damp hair that almost reached her shoulders and a towel knotted around her chest. “Aren’t you cold?”
“I’m from Michigan,” she said with a fond roll of her eyes, as though the two were best friends already. “I can hack it. Unless you’re uncomfortable?”
Lucas shrugged and shook his head. Living with so many sisters, he had long ago ceased to be uncomfortable around girls and it wasn’t strange to see Mira walking around in a towel, though it did seem to put Xavier on edge a little. “Whatever floats your boat.”
“Awesome. So, I know I’m gonna sound like a total creep and I swear I’m not, it was totally innocent, but I accidentally went in your cupboard instead of mine and I’ve gotta ask, what the heck is this?”
Lucas watched as she opened his cupboard door and took out an egg cup. He looked at for a minute in case she meant something else, meeting her eye with a frown when he lifted his gaze. “The egg cup?”
“The what now?”
“It’s an egg cup.”
She stared. “The fuck is an egg cup? Are you just trying to confuse me more?”
“It’s how you eat your boiled egg,” he said. He flicked on the kettle to make himself a cup of tea, having learnt recently to appreciate the drink that his parents devoured by the litre. Mira’s frown deepened.
“You eat your eggs out of a cup? Oh my God, you’re messing with me, aren’t you?” She laughed, looking down at the piece of blue and white ceramic. “Seriously, what is this? Is it, like, some kind of weird British tool I don’t get?”
“No … it’s an egg cup. You boil your egg and put it in there to eat. How do you eat your boiled eggs?”
She looked at him as though he was from another planet. “With my hand?”
“But it’s hot?”
She recoiled as though he had punched her. “What the fuck, you eat it hot? You don’t put it in the fridge?”
“Not for a boiled egg, no.” He took a regular cup out of his cupboard and dropped in a teabag, stepping past Mira to get the milk. “It wouldn’t be soft anymore if you put it in the fridge and that’s kind of the point, to have a runny yolk.”
“Oh my God. I … this is all so wrong. You eat raw eggs?”
Lucas felt as though he was talking to a brick wall, trying to explain the simplest of concepts. “No, it’s a boiled egg. You must have boiled eggs! You cook it for a few minutes, put it in an egg cup, and you eat it. Usually with toast.”
Mira looked as though she wanted to argue her corner but she was completely flabbergasted. “I’m texting this to my mom, oh my God.”
“Didn’t you say she’s English?”
“Yes! And yet I’ve still never heard of a fucking egg cup!” she cried out, riskily letting go of the knot in her towel to snap a photo that she sent to her mother, six hours behind and four thousand miles away. “I was so relaxed and now you’ve just confused me so much. What’re you doing to me, Lucas?”
“Teaching you about eggs, apparently.”
“When I came here for an education,” she said, preparing to head back to her room, “this wasn’t what I expected.”
*
Twenty minutes later, Lucas found himself just as confused as Mira as at the kitchen table with his laptop, scrolling through articles about the lack of egg cups in America, the kind of tiny difference he had never thought about. The last inch of his tea had gone cold but he downed it anyway, a shiver rolling through him at the exact time that his phone began to buzz on the table. Once it had buzzed three times, more than it did for a text message, he answered.
“Hi,” he said, having seen Asher’s face on the caller ID.
“Hey, Lucas. Are you around?”
“Um, no. I’m at uni,” he said. “You know I left last week.”
“I meant are you around at uni?” Asher asked. “I’m in Cambridge, I wondered if you were around?”
A smile tugged at Lucas’s lips. “You just happened to be in Cambridge?”
He heard the telltale hesitation in Asher’s voice before a quiet laugh. “Ok, maybe I decided to surprise you and then realised that I can’t get into your building unless you let me in and I also forgot to check that you’d be around. So, the question remains: are you around?”
“I’m in my flat,” Lucas said, his grin growing. “You seriously came all the way down here?”
“It’s only a three hour drive.”
“Asher! It’s only just gone eleven. Did you seriously get up at eight just to come down here?” He shut the lid of his laptop and checked his keys were in his pocket.
“Maybe. I haven’t seen you for a whole week and it’s weird. Very lonely around here. So, the question remains: can you let me in?”
“I’m on my way down,” Lucas said. He hung up the phone and jumped out of his skin when he looked up to see Mira leaning against the kitchen door with her empty mug in her hand, fully dressed this time.
“Was that lover boy?” she asked, glee in her eyes. “Is your knight in shining armour here?”
Lucas rolled his eyes. “Just my Knight.”
Mira grinned. “You’re totally adorkable. Wanna know something?”
“Ok,” he said cautiously. He still hadn’t quite figured Mira out, no idea what she could come out with or what lay around the corner. She had a no-holds-barred approach to conversation and life in general, oversharing from the very first night the six of them had lived together. After a few drinks, they had learnt that her parents had once caught her in the middle of a threesome with two of her best friends. She had laughed it off and finished her drink, and told them that it hadn’t been the last threesome, though the next had been a little more carefully orchestrated.
“I can tell you, from personal experience, that distance makes the heart grow fonder,” she said, giving him a knowing nod. “Maybe lover boy has realised what’s been right in front of him this whole time.”
“Don’t you dare say anything in front of him.”
Mira held up her hands. “Don’t you trust me?”
“I’ve only known you for a week.”
She laughed. “That’s all the time it takes to love me,” she said. “And trust me, you can trust me. I’m not going to let lover boy know you’re dying to make out with him. Before you know it, you guys will be, like, getting it on in the egg cup aisle.”
Lucas cringed. “He has a girlfriend.”
“The best ones always do,” she said. “My boyfriend had a girlfriend when I met him.”
“And they broke up?” he asked. Mira looked confused for a moment. She tipped her head to one side.
“Weren’t you listening when I told the threesome story?” She gave him a wicked grin. “Why break them up when I could get between them?”
Lucas widened his eyes, stunned by her candour when she didn’t even have a drink in her system. Mira just laughed to see him so stunned and she blew him a kiss.
“Have fun with lover boy! I’m gonna head out, see if I can find a salon. Hey, d’you know where I can get a good bikini wax? I-“
“I don’t want details.” Lucas held up his hand. “I’ve got no idea. I’m sure the internet can help you more than I can. I need to go and let Asher in.”
She left him with a wink, bouncing off to her bedroom. Lucas tried to banish the redness from his cheeks before he double-checked he had his keys and he head downstairs. As soon as his eyes landed on Asher, a broad beam broke out on his face and Asher launched himself at him, almost knocking him over with the force of his hug.
“Hey! God, it feels like forever,” he said with a laugh, wrapping his arms around Lucas as though they hadn’t seen each other for a year rather than just a week. Lucas held onto him for a couple of seconds, comforted by Asher’s familiar cologne. He had worn the same scent for a few years now. It did something to Lucas’s stomach.
“Hey,” he said, trying to control the joy that filled him.
“I’m dying to hear how it’s going and I happen to be hungry as fuck so what d’you say to brunch?”
“I like the sound of that,” Lucas said, swallowing the butterflies that bubbled up to his heart and onto his lips.
“Awesome, ’cause I found this really cute place that’s only a couple of miles away, if you don’t mind hopping in the car.” He nodded at his car, the little silver thing he had been driving for over a year now. “I can’t believe you’re living here now. This place is beautiful, wow.”
“It really is,” Lucas said as they got into the car. He had spent his week exploring, trying not to waste the time he had in the beautiful new city. He loved to walk along the River Cam, which curved around the city and passed by many of the colleges, his phone filled with examples of his amateur photography skills as he snapped pictures of the bridges and the water and the incredible architecture that filled the city.
His parents had dropped him off a week ago, leaving his siblings with his grandparents to give him a little more quality time with the four people who had raised him. He had gone on a walk with his father and his stepfather and Truman had marvelled at the buildings with an architect’s eye while Sarah and Cora had made his room look nice. They had done a pretty good job: the room felt like home with three shelves dedicated to three types of books. One was for his favourites, another for those he had yet to read, and a third for the books his course required him to read.
The brunch place Asher had found was a quirky, intimate cafe on the river with plants and art on every ledge and wall. They took a seat outside after each ordering the eggs Benedict and a hot chocolate, with a side of bacon and maple syrup pancakes to share. Asher leant back in his seat with a sigh and stretched out his legs, an easy grin on his lips. “This is so cool,” he said. “I can’t believe you live here. How’s it going?”
“I’m kind of surprised by how good it is, actually,” Lucas said, letting his honesty take centre stage. “I was worried that it’d be too hard being away from home and living with people I don’t know, but it’s been nice. So much quieter than home.”
“I’m not surprised,” Asher said with a laugh. “I’m not sure anywhere would be louder than your house, actually, except perhaps a jet engine.”
He thanked the waitress effusively when she brought over their drinks, the two hot chocolates topped with every extra possible. When he took a sip, a dollop of cream set up residence on his cheek.
“You’ve got a little something,” Lucas said, tapping his cheek. Asher tried to swipe it off the wrong cheek before he wiped the other, managing to miss it again. After a few futile attempts, Lucas reached across and wiped it for him.
“I’m literally a mess without you, it seems,” Asher said. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to get by for the next three years. You’d better be home soon.”
“I have a reading week in about four weeks,” Lucas said. “I’ll come home then.”
Asher groaned. “A whole month without you? Home’s so weird right now – Aaron’s living with his friends and Dylan’s moved in with Benji. If it wasn’t for Sadie, the place would be silent. Just the occasional ‘fuck’ when Mum walks into a cupboard.”
Lucas laughed. That was easy to imagine. Every bad word he knew had come straight from Ishaana’s lips.
“So how’re your flatmates? You guys getting on ok?” He licked the cream before he took a sip this time.
“Yeah, I kind of like them,” he said. “I don’t really know Xavier or Ned much. They’ve pretty much been out drinking every night, but they seem harmless. Hermione’s nice but she refuses to have anything to do with Harry Potter and she doesn’t like books.”
“She sounds like a tit,” Asher said. Lucas laughed.
“She’s fine, really. I’m sure she’s lovely. Carey’s nice, too. Mira’s my favourite.”
“Oh yeah?”
“You’ll like her,” he said, confident that Asher would click with his most outgoing flatmate. “She’s … she’s kind of an American cross between your mum and Mawar. You’ll love her.”
Asher laughed. “Two very different kinds of love there,” he said.
“Are you free this weekend? You should stay,” Lucas said. “I’ve got a double bed and I’m sure they won’t mind. Tonight was going to be a night in anyway, I think Carey mentioned something about drinking games. Getting to know each other a bit more.”
“I’m free,” Asher said, nodding. “I’d love to stay. You don’t mind?”
“I’d love you to,” Lucas said. “Thanks for coming down, Asher.”
“I know you don’t like surprises but-“
“This was a really nice surprise.” Lucas finished the thought for him. Asher smiled. The sun on his face brightened his feature, illuminating the lazy grin on his lips.
Once their food came, conversation turned to Asher’s neck of the woods, chatting about home as they appreciated their perfect poached eggs and occasionally took a bit of pancake from the plate between them. A couple of times their knives and forks clashed together when they reached for the same bit at the same time.
“I need to thank you,” Asher said, halfway through a mouthful of English muffin and runny egg.
“What for?”
“You made me realise what I wanted to do,” he said. “I went back to school this week to talk to the art department, and I chatted to the head of sixth form too. I’ve done a lot of thinking and I know what I want to do now, and it’s all down to you.” He pointed his fork at Lucas. “I owe you one.”
“What did you decide?”
“I want to do a degree in illustration. Art is the only thing I really love doing and Mrs Chase said my portfolio’s fantastic. I’m going to apply to Brighton. She said I’m a shoe-in and that because I’ve got my grades and everything, I could probably get unconditionals from a few places.”
“Oh my goodness, Asher! That’s great!” Lucas beamed, warmth tickling his skin. “Your art is beautiful. I love it. They’d be crazy not to.”
“Thanks,” Asher said, a shy smile on his lips. “I never really thought it was something I could do as a proper degree until you mentioned it. You helped me so much.”
Lucas shrugged, trying to play it cool when his insides were alight. “That’s what best friends do.”
Asher nodded, his eyes on his food as he cut it up and he murmured, “You’re way more than a best friend.”
Lucas’s heart lurched out of his chest. He could hear his pulse thrumming in his ears, thumping behind his eyes. It took a lot of effort to keep from passing out from the effort of holding back his own sentiments. Asher didn’t seem to notice his struggle, absorbed in his brunch.
“Oh, I forgot to show you!” He took out his phone, letting his fork clatter on his plate so he could scroll to a photo that he turned around to show Lucas. He took the phone to hold it closer, a second or two passing before he realised what he was looking at.
“Is that your mum’s back?” he asked. Asher nodded. “Why’re you showing me your mum’s back?”
He leant over and pinched the picture to zoom in a little more.
“She got a new tattoo?” Lucas asked. Ishaana was a fan of inking herself, most of her tattoos a bit of a hidden secret that could only be seen if she wanted them to be seen.
Amongst designs she had fallen in love with were ones with deeper meaning: her ribs were lined with the names and birthdays of the children she cherished and the ones she had lost while a wheel in the middle of a palm, the symbol of Jainism, sat between her shoulder blades as a tribute to her parents. Down one side was her favourite passage from her favourite book and her personal favourite was nestled under her right breast, a tiny, abstract chess board with two pieces: a bishop and a knight.
“Mmhmm,” Asher said. He zoomed in further on the tattoo, the design coming into focus. The simple lines depicted bodies tangled together, entwined in vines and leaves. The only spots of colour were a few strategically placed red roses. “I drew it,” Asher said. “I was doing some more stuff for my portfolio – I took up an extra art course at Farnleigh College, just for fun really, and I’ve been doing a module on repression and the human body. I drew that and Mum loved it.”
“Wow,” Lucas said, staring at the piece. He couldn’t help but read more into it than Asher was saying as he stared at the minimalist lines that depicted the bodies of men and women tied together with roses and thorns. “It’s really nice. Wow. You drew that? It’s incredible, Asher.”
“Thanks,” Asher said, a proud smile on his lips. “The guy who did it said I should design for their shop. I’m pretty sure he was joking but that’d be pretty cool.”
“That’d be really cool,” Lucas murmured, handing the phone back. He had never thought about having a tattoo before but the idea of Asher designing something permanent on his skin was weirdly alluring, almost arousing.
The waitress came over with the bill once they had finished, two hours after they had sat down. It seemed there was a lot to talk about after only a week apart, covering everything and anything as they bathed in the warm sun. Lucas reached for his card but Asher pushed his hand away.
“It’s on me,” he said, holding Lucas’s hand down as he paid and thanked the waitress with a tip and a smile.
“You didn’t need to pay,” Lucas said.
“I told you, I owe you one,” Asher said with that heart-stopping grin. “Consider this a down payment.”
*
After an entire day wandering around the city, the two of them easily spending time in each other’s company when they had hardly ever been apart for longer than a weekend in fourteen years of friendship. They drifted along the riverside, dipping into coffee shops when they tired of walking until they found themselves wandering back to the car in the most comfortable silence.
Asher paid each time they put their feet up with a cup of tea; he handed over the cash when they decided to take a boat down the river; he used his card when they had supper in a casual little restaurant after a long day. As much as Lucas hated to be paid for, he couldn’t help but be touched by Asher’ generosity, the ease with which he paid and the smile with which he did it. He even left tips for every waiter and waitress who served them, some of whom were surprised by the unexpected behaviour.
Money had never been an issue for Asher. It never would be, not with his parents’ fortune behind him, but he had never once abused that. He didn’t splash out on gadgets or clothes: he’d had the same phone for three years and his car was standard for an eighteen-year-old, and his mother still bought everything he wore. But he was generous, always the first to step in if his friends needed a little help or he just wanted to treat them. If he ever suggested going to see a film, he paid for the tickets; if he wanted to try out a new restaurant, he picked up the bill.
It wasn’t charity. Lucas had had to cut that feeling out of his head when he had realised that he sometimes mistook Asher’s generosity for pity when it was anything but. The Knights had merely been bred to be giving, hammered into them by their parents who had been through enough struggles to know how much the smallest act of kindness could mean.
“Ready?” Lucas asked as he let them in, hoping that Mira wouldn’t let slip what she knew. Asher nodded.
“Excited,” he said. “It’s weird to think you’re going to have this whole other life down here, totally new people and everything.”
“You’ll have that in Brighton,” Lucas said. “How far is Brighton anyway?”
“About two and a half hours by train.”
“From home?”
“Oh, no,” Asher said with a laugh. “From here. It’s about four or five hours from home.”
They headed into the kitchen once they had dropped their things off in Lucas’s room and rather than her usual zealous greeting, Mira just tipped her head to one side and narrowed her eyes at Asher. Lucas prayed she wasn’t about to break her promise.
“I know you,” she said. “Do I know you?”
“Um … I don’t know,” Asher said. “Pretty sure you’re the first American I’ve met in person.”
“No, no, I feel like I know you.”
Lucas stepped up to the conversation. “You only moved here last week,” he said. “This is the first time Asher’s been here.”
“Wait a second,” Asher said. “Oh my God, wait, are you Miracle?”
Mira’s cheeks coloured. She laughed. “It’s just Mira. God, I was trying to keep that under wraps! Damn it. Oh! I know why I know you – you dated my dickhead cousin, didn’t you?”
Lucas frowned. “You’re Adler’s cousin?”
Mira grimaced. “Unfortunately. Thank fuck my mom moved to America, I gotta say, else I’d probably have to put up with her a lot more than a transatlantic visit a couple times a year!”
“How are you cousins?”
“Don’t worry, I got the good side. Our moms are sisters.”
A freight train of thoughts ran through Lucas’s head. “Where’s your mum from then?”
“Originally? Somewhere near Wales, I think? I think my aunt still lives there.”
“Farnleigh?” he asked. Mira’s face lit up.
“Yeah! You know it?”
“That’s where we’re from,” he said with a laugh. When they had done introductions, he had said he was from Shropshire rather than name the specific town that he had doubted anyone would know.
“Jesus,” Asher said, laughing. “What were the chances?”
Mira just stared before she guffawed. “Oh my God, this is crazy. My mom’ll find this hilarious. As if you’re from Farnleigh, Lucas!” She turned around and held up her phone to take a selfie with the two of them, quick fingers sending it off to her mother. “I’ve never even been to England before and I end up living with a guy who’s from my mom’s home town. As if you know Adler.” She pointed at Asher. “As if you dated her. Wow. Sorry, dude, but you’ve got horrible taste in women.”
Asher grimaced. He held nothing but regret for the relationship that had crashed down around him, leaving destruction in its wake. Adler had planted a poisonous flower that had taken a while to dig out. Excusing himself to grab his phone from Lucas’s room, he left the two of them alone.
“Oh. My. God,” Mira said, her eyes huge. “You didn’t tell me lover boy dated my little shit of a cousin!”
“I didn’t know!” Lucas hissed. “You never told me you had secret family in Farnleigh.”
“I didn’t know you were from there!”
“I didn’t think you’d know it.”
“Literally the one town in England I know,” she said, laughing. “This is so crazy.”
“You know what’s crazy?”
She raised her eyebrows at him.
“The fact that your name’s Miracle.”
Mira rolled her eyes dramatically. “I have a cheesy dad, ok,” she said. “My parents were, like, forty when they had me so apparently I was some kinda miracle baby, and I was born in Cleveland. I’m Mira from CLE. My dad calls me MiraCLE. But let’s not make this about me – I have good news for you.”
“What?”
She nodded at the door. “Lover boy out there. No-one in their right mind would date Adler. She may be family but I don’t have to like her – she’s a spoiled bitch. So that means lover boy’s in his wrong mind, right? I bet she was a beard.” She prodded Lucas’s chest.
“He has a girlfriend right now.”
“He’s just growing out his beard,” Mira said. “Then he’ll shave it off and find your cute little butt underneath.”
Lucas raised his eyebrows. Mira nodded conspiratorially and rocked back on her heels.
“I can’t believe you’re in love with my dickhead cousin’s ex,” she said. At that exact moment, Asher swung back into the room with a half smile on his lips, glancing at Lucas. Lucas froze. He couldn’t tell if Asher had heard or not. Mira hadn’t exactly whispered, but Asher didn’t exactly have the best hearing and there had been a door between them. It wasn’t something he could easily clarify.
“So,” Mira said, realising her error with a flicker of a grimace. “Let’s pour some drinks!”
*
After a couple of rounds of ring of fire, a game that terrified Lucas in case he ended up with the dirty pint, and several other games that he had never heard of, Carey rolled out a sheet of paper over the table. After almost an hour, everyone was at least a little buzzed and Lucas could feel himself losing control in a nice way, letting go of his hang-ups. When he had run out of cider, Mira had poured him a rather generous glass of vodka orange and it was doing the trick. Next to him, Asher had the same smile he always wore when he was tipsy, loose lips and glassy eyes.
“What’s this for?” Hermione asked, tucking a blond wave behind her ear. Quiet and inoffensive, she didn’t say much at all.
“This,” Carey said, drawing a circle in the middle, “is for Never Have I Ever.”
Mira grinned and leant back in her seat. “You’re just trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
Xavier smirked. “Just trying to find something you haven’t done.”
With a wink she said, “You’ll have to check in the back.” She glanced over her shoulder and shrugged when she looked back at him. “Sorry. We’re fresh out of things I haven’t done.”
Over the next few minutes, that proved true as she tipped her drink back every time someone confessed to never having had public sex or given road head. She refilled her glass three times before Lucas had even finished his. Each time a new confession was made, Carey wrote it in a circle on the paper, ready for the next game when they decided to move on.
“Ok, ok, I’ve got one,” Hermione said, slipping in her chair and holding up her hand. “Never have I ever … watched gay porn.”
Lucas tightened his hand around his drink and lifted his lips. Across the table, Carey did the same and winked, nudging his foot under the table. His chest flushed hot and red, a blush spreading.
It burned even harder when Asher drank too.
Mira looked from Asher to Lucas, excitement in her eyes. She grinned at Lucas, too drunk to be more subtle with her gestures, though she managed not to let her words slip out. Lucas swallowed hard, squirming at the mere thought of what Asher had watched. He wondered if it had been a one time thing or a regular occurrence. He didn’t need to ask when Carey took over that, raising an eyebrow at Asher.
“Does your girlfriend know that?” he asked with a laugh. He had an amazing laugh, Lucas thought. He had amazing eyes too, a soft and enigmatic green that looked even more amazing against his brown skin. Watching him, he felt a squirm in his belly that he had never really felt for anyone but Asher.
“What can I say?” Asher laughed too. “I guess I’m curious.”
Lucas felt like he was going to pass out though he couldn’t stand to get a bit of air, not when the table was doing a good job of concealing him.
It was Ned’s turn. He glanced at Lucas before he spoke. “Ok. Never have I ever kissed my best friend,” he said.
Asher drank. Laughing, he nudged Lucas. “Drink up!” he said. “Don’t tell me you forgot New Year’s Eve?”
The memory rushed back to Lucas, the night eight years ago when Asher had kissed him. They had been kids at the time; he had only just turned ten, but it had deepened his craving. It still did. He took a drink. Mira seemed to have been a little sloppy when she had poured this one, the taste of the vodka a lot stronger than before.
Mira’s turn. She was only just hanging onto her chair, a permanent grin on her lips: she was pretty far gone. “Alright, alright, lemme go. Never have I ever … kissed a cute Asian.” She stuck out her tongue at Lucas.
Asher prodded his side. “Drink, Lucas!” he said, laughing. He swayed, almost toppling to the floor. “Are you saying I’m not cute? ‘Cause the last time I checked, India’s in Asia and I’m a whole half Indian. And you,” he said, prodding Lucas’s chest, “are, like, three kinds of Asian. So we drink.”
“And Mawar’s one hundred percent Asian,” he said, reminded Asher of his girlfriend. He raised his eyebrows, momentary surprise on his face as though he had forgotten about her. His first thought had been Lucas.
“Shit. Two drinks for me.”
*
Lucas had never really been drunk before. He’d drunk at Asher’s parties but that had mostly been ciders, the kind of sleepy tipsiness that came with the fizzy fruit alcohol. This was an entirely new sensation for him, his body feeling looser and looser as the night went on and Asher leant even heavier against him. It seemed like his flatmates were targeting him with their confessions, trying to come up with things they were sure he would have done. They wanted to see him drunk, and they had succeeded.
Long after midnight, Lucas leant against his wall as he tried to hold himself up for long enough to change into his pyjamas. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face, the realisation that he had enjoyed the night and his flatmates’ company, and Asher’s. Asher sat on the edge of the bed, flopping back with a laugh.
“This was great,” he said, grinning at the ceiling. “This is so fun. I want to live here. Your friends are fun. Mira’s funny.”
Lucas stumbled over the leg of his pyjama bottoms, falling onto the bed. “She’s funny. And she’s so pretty!”
“Very pretty.”
“Carey’s pretty too,” Lucas said. He wasn’t in control of his own words, the alcohol having shredded his filter. “His eyes … his eyes.”
“He has hot eyes,” Asher said, lying spread-eagle on the bed in his clothes. Lucas struggled to his feet.
“I need to pee.”
“Go pee,” Asher said. “Pee freely … free peely. Ha. Free your pee.” He laughed to himself and Lucas chuckled too, stumbling down the hallway to the bathroom. His head felt completely empty in the best way possible, not a single worry lingering in his brain as he relieved himself, though he wasn’t too far gone to forget to wash his hands: it would be nearly impossible to kill the germaphobe in him. When he tripped into the hallway, he bumped straight into Carey.
“Hey there,” Carey said, his voice deep and slow.
“Hey there,” Lucas parroted, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I had to pee.”
“Makes sense.” Carey chuckled. He stood close to Lucas, who leant against the wall to stop himself from falling over. “Can I tell you something?”
He nodded, blinking his heavy eyes.
“There are a couple of drinks I wish I could have had tonight,” he said, dropping his voice even lower. His eyes lingered on Lucas’s lips before he met his gaze. “I’ve never kissed a cute Asian but I think I want to.”
“Oh.” Lucas wasn’t sure what else to say.
He didn’t have to think of anything when Carey’s hand cupped his cheek and their lips met, his eyes wide open in silent surprise when he felt Carey’s lips part his, his tongue pushing forwards as he pinned him against the wall. Lucas was rooted to the spot, his reflexes too overwhelmed to kick into action when he had drowned them with too many drinks.
Carey kissed him hungrily, devouring him as Lucas stood clueless, helpless. He had never kissed anyone before. Not properly, not like this. Never more than a peck on the lips. He didn’t know how to feel, his heart thudding as he tasted sweet apple spirit on Carey’s tongue and he felt his hand moving down from his cheek to his neck, trailing down his stomach to the waistband of his pyjamas.
It was only when Carey’s hand grazed over his crotch that Lucas jumped away, his reaction kicking in.
“No,” he said, pushing him away.
“Come on,” Carey said breathily, clumsily trying to push Lucas’s pyjamas down. “Don’t you wanna?”
“No,” Lucas said again. Both hands returned to his cheeks as Carey kissed him again, tangling up everything that the evening had untangled.
Carey grinned when he pulled away, squeezing Lucas’s behind. “Think about that,” he murmured, retreating to his room. Lucas took a moment to gather himself, his head swimming as he stumbled back to his room and collapsed next to Asher with a sigh.
“That was a long wee,” Asher said. He had changed into his pyjamas now, though his top had ridden up to show off his hard, toned abs.
“Carey kissed me,” Lucas murmured, pulling the duvet up to his neck and dropping his glasses onto the table.
“What? Wait, what? You kissed Carey?”
“Mmhmm.” He closed his eyes, his body laden.
“When?”
“Just now.”
“Why?” Asher propped himself up on his elbows, staring down at his friend.
“Because he wanted to,” Lucas said, yawning.
“And you kissed him back?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
Lucas wasn’t so sure about that part. While his drunken mind could weaken his inhibitions, it failed to give him a reason for what he did when he had a few drinks in his system. He shrugged. “Because I wanted to,” he said after a moment. That wasn’t true. “Time to move on.” That was.
Asher seemed to have sobered up in a matter of seconds, confusion etched into his frown. His breaths changed pattern. Deeper, slower. “Move on from who?”
Lucas held his breath. He didn’t open his eyes. He had put his foot in it this time. Swallowing hard, he let out a long sigh. “Never mind.”
“Lucas? What’re you on about? Time to move on from who?” Asher asked. He rolled onto his side, staring at his friend. Lucas couldn’t answer that question, not now. Not like that. He knew that much, that it would be a terrible idea to confess fourteen years’ worth of love with half a distillery in his system.
Asher poked him. “Lucas? Why’d you kiss Carey? You hardly even know him! You’ve got to live together for nearly a year.”
“It’s just a kiss,” Lucas said, not that he had ever believed that. “Let’s just go to sleep.”
Asher’s unshakeable smile had turned into an unshakeable frown. He let out a long sigh, his eyes on Lucas. “It’s never just a kiss.”
+ – + – +
i couldn’t wait to write this chapter! i had to, though – i’m a little under the weather which makes it hard to write at my usual time as i’m just absolutely pooped and i really didn’t want to rush this one! i’m really excited to introduce a few new characters. i realise there are a few M names in this story – sorry that Mira, Mar and Mika are a little similar, but Mira was actually named long before this book was even conceived (and her name has a lot of significance so it’s not one i’m going to change). when i realised the timeline overlap, i couldn’t resist bringing her over from michigan.
the egg cup conversation may or may not be lifted from a 100% genuine, and very distressing, conversation with magicallycursed which featured a lot more swearing and crying and confusion
Comment