Chapter 9
THEO - EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD
A knock on the door sends my heart leaping into my throat.
“Boys, come on, it’s eleven,” Ma shouts. “Get your lazy butts out of bed or I’m coming in.”
I suck in a breath and look down at Bailey sprawled across my bare chest, then at the empty air mattress on the floor by my bed.
“Bay, get up,” I whisper, nudging his arm.
His body jerks just as there’s another knock on the door, and he quickly scrambles out of my bed, running to the bathroom in his briefs.
“Are you up?” Ma calls out again.
“Yes, we’re up,” I bark.
“Good boy.”
I hear her walk away from the door, but I still shout after her, “Not a boy!”
Bailey comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, freshly showered, skin all pink from the heat of it. I look down to the little towel wrapped around his hips.
His cheeks turn from pink to red, brows creasing. “Not now.”
After we’re both dressed, Bailey sits on the beanbag. He’s on his phone with his knees drawn up to his chin, fingers covered by sleeves that are too long. Too long, because that’s my jumper. My stomach flutters seeing him wearing it. I like the way he looks in my clothes …
My words rush out of me before I can stop them. “I think I want to tell my parents.”
Bailey looks up at me through his long lashes. “Tell them what?”
“About us … that we’re together,” I say. He frowns, and it feels like my stomach’s dropped right out of me. “We are, aren’t we?”
Ever since we kissed in the woods six months ago and Bailey moved in, this thing between us has grown bigger.
We’re even more inseparable, especially once all the lights are out, and he ignores the air mattress to climb straight into bed, draping his body over mine like a hot blanket. It’s the best part of my day.
“Boyfriends?” he asks quietly.
“If you want,” I say.
He bites his lip and dips his head, muttering, “I want.”
A grin takes over my face. “And you’ll come to Scotland with me when I leave in the summer … as boyfriends?”
“Yeah, I’ll go wherever you go, Teddy.” He smiles back at me sweetly.
Without thinking, I launch myself onto him. He screams as the beanbag explodes and thousands of tiny polystyrene balls go flying everywhere.
Shoving my chest, trying to crawl out from under me, he huffs, “Can I take it back?”
“Nope,” I say, bending down, giving him a dozen kisses all over his face.
We spend way too long cleaning up the mess I made before heading downstairs for breakfast—or lunch, I guess. I grab some meat from the fridge and make us both sandwiches before heading out to the garden, where Ma is reading a book on her sun lounger and Da is weeding the garden.
We sit on the picnic table and eat but my food feels like cement to swallow.
My parents have never spoken badly about people being gay or bisexual, but it’s also never been a topic of conversation in the house.
They’ve never pressured me into dating or asked why I never brought anyone home.
But I don’t like not knowing how they’re going to react.
Bailey gives me a small smile, his hand slipping under the table to squeeze my thigh. Fuck, okay. “Um … Ma, Da, I want to tell you something.”
Da stands up, leaning on his spade, and Ma closes her book, both giving me their full attention.
“I’m … I’m bisexual, and Bailey and I are kinda together.” I look from one to the other trying to see any anger or disappointment in their faces, but they’re both neutral.
“Kinda together?” Da asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Are together,” I correct.
“Well we’re glad you felt you could tell us, son,” he says, before bending back down to the weeds.
I look at Ma, who’s unnervingly silent. “Ma?”
“Are you being safe?” she says, narrowing her eyes.
I frown. “Safe?” After a second it clicks, and my cheeks burn in an instant. I stand up quickly and grab Bailey's arm. “Come on, Bay. We’re leaving.” That was not what I’d been expecting.
“Stop, stop, stop.” Ma gets up off her lounger and rushes over before we can escape. “I’m very happy you’re together, and that you told us,” she says, grabbing Bailey’s face so she can kiss his cheek and hug him. “Welcome to the family, love.”
“Come on, we haven’t gone this way before,” I say, pulling Bailey along.
“How? You’ve been dragging me through these woods for a year and a half, we must have seen everything by now, Teddy. Come on, I just want to hang out by the tree.” He tugs my arm back.
He’s lived with me long enough to know I don’t like to stay in one place for too long. Besides, I’m sure I’ve never been this way before. I turn around to find him pouting, his plump bottom lip sticking out slightly. “That doesn’t work on me, Bay.” I grab his thighs, lifting him over my shoulder.
“Teddy!” he yelps.
Ignoring him, I walk through the trees until we come to a clearing, where I set him down, only to be met with a scowl.
“Happy now? You found another clearing. More trees, more grass, more moss,” he says, picking some off of a nearby rock.
“Anyone would think you hate being outside,” I smirk, knowing that’s not the reason he’s grumpy. He doesn’t like when I make him walk around for hours, because he’d rather be lying under the oak tree making out.
“Come here.” I fist his jumper and pull him towards me until his lips are on mine.
I can taste the liquorice he devoured earlier, and something a little more familiar.
We’re lost in the kiss when a rancid smell floats by on the breeze, and I jerk away from him.
“Christ, what is that?” I thrust my arm over my mouth and nose, resisting the urge to gag. Bailey sniffs and screws his nose up.
We follow the smell further into the clearing—it’s sickly sweet and a little like rotten eggs.
A shed comes into view. It looks like it could have been the groundskeeper’s once, but now the wood is splintered, roof tiles are strewn across the ground, and the door is barely hanging on by the hinges.
I go to take a step closer, but Bailey grabs my arm tightly.
“I don’t like it,” he says, pulling at me.
I point to the shed. “The smell is definitely coming from there.”
He shakes his head, eyes wide and pleading. “I want to go. Please,” he begs.
Morbid curiosity draws me away from Bailey. “You stay here if you don’t want to look, I wanna see what’s in there.”
“No!” he shouts, digging his nails into my flesh.
“Fuck, Bay, that hurts.” I try to prise his hand off me but he holds fast, pulling my arm back.
“Fine,” I growl, following him back through the trees.
He doesn’t stop walking until we get to the old oak tree by the stream.
When he finally releases my arm, I look down to see little crescent-shaped indents marking my bicep.
“I-I’m sorry.” He steps back from me and whispers, “I didn’t like the smell.”
I’ve never seen that kind of reaction from him before—terrified and desperate, clawing at me like a wild thing.
His face has paled, and he takes a step away from me, looking over his shoulder as though he might run at any moment.
I close the distance and grab his hand. “It’s fine, Bay.
I should have listened when you said you didn’t like it. ”
He sniffles, looking at my arm. “I hurt you.”
“It was an accident. I’m fine.”
He shakes his head, voice breaking as he says, “It’s bleeding.”
I squeeze his hand and pull him towards me. “You were scared, it was an accident.”
“I’m not safe.” He pulls his hand, trying to get free of me.
What the hell is going on? I’m not sure if this is about the smell or if something else is upsetting him, but all I want is to calm him down. “You are safe, Bay. You’re always safe with me. You know that.”
“No. You’re not safe with me,” he cries out as he struggles against my hold, slipping his hand out of mine.
Then he runs.