Chapter 7 Jimmy
JIMMY
“I’m fine, thank you,” Flynn says, after a few minutes, although he doesn’t pull away.
I keep rubbing his shoulder, while anger claws at my insides.
Not directed at him, but at Billy. I’m positive that Flynn tried as hard as he could to make their relationship work.
He will have made sacrifice after sacrifice, while Billy made him feel guilty for not trying harder.
I’m also sure that Flynn feels responsible for the breakdown of their marriage, and that Billy let him.
I’m glad giving up his dream was a step too far for Flynn, which makes me the worst person in the world, because it means I’m glad they split up, which is why I shouldn’t be sitting in the middle of a coffee shop, hugging him while he cries.
Not that he’s crying anymore. His shoulders aren't trembling, his breathing is calm, and his sobs have quieted. Yet he’s not pulling away, and I’m not letting go.
“We should do more revision,” he says.
“That doesn’t matter now.”
“Yes, it does. You’ve got one more final, and I’m going to help you ace it.”
I chuckle. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do. You’ve got this, Jimmy.” He sounds so sure, like he believes in me, and damn, it makes my heart tremble.
He pulls away. His eyes are bright and red-rimmed, his cheeks a little puffy. He picks up the middle pile of cards he made. “Ready?”
It’s time to let go. With a resigned sigh, I move back to my seat and finish the millionaire’s shortbread he bought me while he asks me questions.
It was such a small gesture, yet one I appreciate.
He must have remembered how much I love this sweet treat.
The combination of chocolate, caramel, and shortbread is perfect.
The pile he’s picked is the one with questions I was a little hesitant about.
Except this time around, I’m more confident with around half of them.
The more I get right, the more he smiles, and the more vivid his eyes look.
It’s wrong, but it spurs me on to dig deep into my memory so that I can get as many right as possible.
As a result, he moves some of them to the ‘easy’ pile.
When we’ve finished that pile, we take another break. I coax him to eat his chocolate chip muffin while I get another round of drinks. He opts for a fruit smoothie, rather than another round of caffeine.
I return to the table to find him mixing the ‘easy’ pile into the other two. I give him a curious look, but don’t question his methods. It’s working so far.
We rinse and repeat throughout the morning.
I realise that, having the questions I already know off by heart mixed in helps boost my confidence.
I’m riding high on a burst of serotonin, which carries me through a more complicated question.
Before I know it, it’s time to treat him to a toasted cheese sandwich as a thank you.
“This has been fun, thank you. Fuck, I never thought I’d describe revision as ‘fun,’” I say.
“Has?”
“You want to carry on?”
He shrugs. “If you want to. You might have had enough revision for one day.”
“I have, but that doesn’t mean we can’t hang out.” Does it? “We could do something on the list Angus made for you.”
He pulls the list out of his pocket and scans it. “I’ve never been on a water taxi before.”
“It’s not that long a ride, but it’s pretty.
I’d do it with you if you want the company.
The Royal Armouries is at the other end.
It’s free, so it’s worth a look. Or we could wander back to town along the canal tow path.
” I rub the back of my neck. “Or I can stop inserting myself into your afternoon.”
“No. It’s okay. Exploring would be more fun with company.”
I can’t help but grin.
“Angus was right, these are great sandwiches.”
“Angus is right about a lot of things.”
We finish lunch, then I pack the cards into my bag, keeping the piles separate, and we walk through the Dark Arches to the back of the railway station, and around to the canal, where the water taxi pickup point is. We sit on a covered bench overlooking the canal.
Flynn wrinkles his nose. “Wow. The smell here is… unique.”
“Is that a polite way of saying bad?”
“Yes.”
“Says the guy who lives and works on a farm. Cow muck stinks.”
“You get used to it. Everything else makes up for it.”
“Everything else?”
“The views. Getting to work in the fresh air every day.”
“Fresh except for the cow muck.”
He laughs. “It’s not that bad.”
“You love it, don’t you?”
His eyes sparkle. “Yes, I do.” The sparkle diminishes, replaced by sadness. He looks away.
I want to tell him he made the right choice, but that isn’t my call to make. He's happier when he’s not thinking about Billy.
After about ten minutes, the yellow water taxi chugs into view.
It docks in front of the bench, and we wait while half a dozen people disembark before boarding.
Flynn pays for us. After some friendly banter with the skipper, we sit outside on a narrow wooden bench, with the breeze ruffling our hair while we travel down the canal towards Leeds docks.
I’ve done this trip before for fun, but it’s terrific to see the awe in Flynn’s eyes as he gets to see a tiny part of Leeds from a different angle.
It only takes about 10 minutes to reach our destination.
The tall, glass building of the Royal Armouries dominates the plethora of offices, restaurants, pubs, and apartment buildings.
Inside, the hall of steel, which extends the entire height of the building, is stunning.
A pyramid of mirrors on the floor makes it easier to see the hundreds of weapons hung on the walls, but it’s also fun to look up, even if it does strain my neck and make me go dizzy after a while.
We discover elephant armour and Henry VIII’s famous horned helmet and marvel at the displays featuring weapons from throughout history and the world.
The information plaques offer plenty of insights and we share our thoughts on how fierce, spiky, or sharp something is as we make our way around the museum at a leisurely pace.
Once we’ve exhausted the museum and left a donation out of gratitude, we wander along the towpath towards the city centre, a lightness between us that has been missing for years.
It makes me regret the way I behaved after Flynn and Billy got together.
Why did I waste so much time and energy wanting to hate them, instead of being satisfied with friendship?
“What are you going to do after your finals?” Flynn asks.
I shrug. “I haven’t made any yet.” But I need to.
“Any ideas?”
“Honestly? I want everything to stay the same. Being a student is great. You’ve got all the freedom of being an adult, without any of the responsibility.” I kick a stone into the canal. “But that can’t happen, so I guess I’ll get a job somewhere.”
“In sport?”
“Maybe I could be a professional gym bro.”
Flynn laughs. “I’m not sure that’s a job.”
“Well, fuck. Now what am I going to do?”
“You could be a trainer at a gym.”
“Isn’t that the same thing as being a pro gym bro?”
“You tell me?”
“It is,” I decide. “And you’re right, it would be the perfect job for me. I might even get a free gym membership out of it.” I raise my arm and flex my biceps. “Gotta keep these babies looking fine.”
Flynn stares at my bulging muscles, eyes wide. “They look very fine,” he squeaks. “But, please, don’t call them babies.”
“What else would I call them?”
“Muscles.”
“All right, I’ve got to keep my muscles looking fine.”
“Better.”
We grin at each other and then look away at the same time.
“How did you get into weightlifting?”
“I signed up for a ton of societies during Fresher’s Week. I was either still drunk from the night before or hungover, which will have had something to do with it. But I decided to give them all a go. Turns out, weightlifting was the hobby I didn’t know I was missing.”
“What else did you try?”
“Uh—my memory of my first term is kind of hazy. There was a lot of drinking involved. But, I think I tried fencing, archery, role playing, radio drama, ballroom dancing—”
“Ballroom dancing?”
“What? Can’t you imagine me dancing the Cha-Cha?” I put my arms in a partner hold position and do a few steps of the Cha-Cha, whispering the timing as I go. I’m sure I look ridiculous, but I don’t care.
“Well, I couldn’t imagine it, but I can now. You didn’t keep it up?”
“Nah. I’m more brawn than grace. By the end of my first year, Barbell Soc was the only society I was still in.” I sigh. “I’m going to miss it.”
“And your friends?”
“Yeah. Everyone’s leaving soon. Almost everyone. Angus will be staying in Leeds.”
“Will you?”
“Maybe. I’ve got nowhere better to go, so why not?
I’m allowed to stay in my student house until the week before the freshers arrive at the end of September, so I’ll have some time in cheap accommodation to find a job and somewhere new to live.
There’s a ton of gyms in and around Leeds, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find a job. ”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks. And, hey, maybe we could hang out?” My voice is tentative.
“I’d like that. Do you want to do a bit more revision today?”
If it means spending time with Flynn, yes. “Sure. You could come to mine. We can revise for a bit, and then I’ll cook us dinner.”
He raises his eyebrows.
“Don’t look at me like that. I can cook. I’m a master of three meals.”
“Which three?”
“Mac and cheese, pizza, and burgers.”
“Only one of those counts as cooking.”
“How do you know I don’t make the burgers from scratch?”
“Do you?”
I chortle. “No. Of course not.”
“Do you get your cheese sauce out of a packet?”
“No, I do not. I had a girlfriend in my first year who taught me how to make it. Trust me, it’s delicious. Add some crispy bacon, and it’s—” I do a chef’s kiss. “So, what do you say? Come to mine?”
Flynn hesitates. From the flex of his facial muscles, I guess he’s biting the inside of his cheek. What is he thinking?
“You’re cooking mac and cheese?”
“With crispy bacon.”
He smiles. “Okay.”
“Okay, you’ll come to mine for dinner?”
“And revision.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll do some of that, too.” But not too much.