Chapter 5 #3
There was a girl who’d been eyeing him with curiosity rather than hostility. When her friend got up to fill another plate, leaving her alone, Joshua sat down beside her on a dirty patch of grass, beside some rubbish bins that were mostly filled with paper. “Hi,” he said softly. “I’m Joshua.”
“I know.” She tilted her head. “Shayna. But Leo said not to bother you.”
Joshua glanced up to find Leo in a quiet, intent conversation with some boy who had a bruise on his jaw. Turning back to Shayna, Joshua tried for a smile. “I came to talk to you, didn’t I?”
“Guess so.” Her gaze skimmed over him, assessing, then she propped one leg up and wrapped her arms around it.
A colourful watch hung off one thin wrist, her tank top torn, revealing the straps of her bra and the sharp cut of her collarbones.
She gave him an assessing smile. “You know, I’m not, like, working until later, but I’d make an exception for you. I’m a patriot, like.”
What—oh. Jesus. She couldn’t be older than sixteen. Joshua swallowed around the lump in his throat and gently shook his head. “I’m not interested in that. I just want to talk to you a little. That’s all.”
“Talk,” she repeated carefully.
“Talk.” Joshua nodded.
She narrowed her eyes and took him in, a different kind of interest in her eyes now. “Is it true how they say you’re gay?”
Wow, all right. This no-bullshit approach was becoming more and more familiar. Joshua inhaled and met her gaze. “I am. But I haven’t made an official statement yet.”
Yet.
It echoed in his head, bounced from one side of his skull to the other. Yet, yet, yet.
“Okay.” The confirmation seemed to relax her, and she shifted to sit cross-legged, turning to face him. “We can talk. But if you want to know about Leo, I don’t know much. And I wouldn’t tell you anyway ‘cause that’s not, like… ‘Cause I just wouldn’t.”
Joshua hated himself for the muted curl of disappointment in his belly. It hadn’t been his primary reason for approaching her, it really hadn’t been. “That’s all right,” he told her. “I’m curious, of course. But I wouldn’t want the story from anyone but him. That would be cheating.”
“Right.” She seemed satisfied with his answer.
“So this is… slightly unfamiliar. To me.” Joshua gestured at their surroundings.
The kids were spread out in the backyard of what appeared to be an office building, their voices echoing off the concrete walls, blank windows staring down at them.
One boy had turned on music, some rap tune spilling from the tinny speakers of his surprisingly new mobile phone.
Turning back to Shayna, Joshua gave her another smile.
“If you don’t mind me asking, I take it you live on the street? And so does everyone else here?”
She hesitated before confirming it with a tiny shrug. “Yeah. Like, there are worse places. If you know where to go, got some friends to rely on… ‘S not so bad.”
“It was worse, then? Where you came from?”
Again, she hesitated. Then she raised her chin, gaze direct as she looked at him. “I broke my left arm when I was three. Right when I was four, got a concussion out of it, too. Dislodged my shoulder a couple months later, bruises down my back most of the time. D’you need me to go on?”
His stomach twisted. Slowly, he inhaled, his voice coming out rough. “No. Not unless you want to.”
“I don’t mind,” she said, firm with only the tiniest hint of a quiver. “I’ve learned to wear it like armour, you know?”
The words were so familiar that Joshua fought not to react. “That’s good. That’s… admirable, really.”
“Admirable,” she repeated, openly sceptical.
“Admirable,” he confirmed.
Her smile flashed like sunshine. It was gone too soon, but it made Joshua’s chest feel lighter all the same. He was about to say more when Leo’s loud voice cut into their conversation.
“Everyone,” Leo called. In a threadbare vest and black skinnies rolled up to the ankles, he would have fitted right into this crowd if it weren’t for the handful of years he had on them, and how he was less rugged than the kids.
“Minions and ladies and princes! No football match today. I’ll make up for it next week, yeah?
Same place, same time, unless you hear from Kylie or me.
Now scatter. Sir Prince and I gotta clean up after your arses. ”
Leo spread his arms in a blessing gesture, all theatrics, and Joshua bit down on a laugh.
“Well, that’s my cue.” Shayna climbed to her feet and, after a second’s consideration, leaned down to give Joshua a half-formed hug. Her, “You’re kinda all right, Prince Joshua,” made him swallow, then reach up to squeeze her hand.
“Thanks. You too.”
“See ya.” With that, she turned away to collect her friend, the two of them linking arms before they marched off together.
Once the area had cleared out, leftovers distributed among the kids, Joshua helped Leo with the empty boxes and plastic cutlery. They piled everything back into the van, erasing all traces of their presence. By half past two, about three hours after they’d arrived, they were ready to go.
“I feel like a ninja,” Joshua said, settling into the passenger seat once more. “Or Robin Hood. Feeding the poor.”
“You realise there’s an inherent problem with the narrative, right?” Leo twisted to look over his shoulder before he backed out onto the road. The motion emphasised the line of his jaw, sharpened it, and if Joshua were to reach out and run his knuckles along its curve—would Leo lean into it?
Joshua needed a moment to avert his eyes. “You mean that I can’t be the rogue when I’m part of the establishment?”
“Accurate.” Leo grinned over at him. He seemed lighter than he had before, and Joshua wondered just how worried he’d been about showing Joshua this particular aspect of his life. That he’d done it at all was… surprising.
Joshua really shouldn’t mistake this for more than it was.
He switched the radio on in time to catch the tail end of the half hour news, updates on the national squad’s stay in Brazil.
It reminded Joshua that he still needed to sort out which match he’d attend with Mo and Tristan, and whether there was time for a bit of a ramble around the country afterwards.
The last match of the group stage sounded like their best bet.
As soon as the news segued into music, Joshua lowered the volume and sat back, turning his attention to Leo. “You’re different with the kids,” he said. It didn’t count as a question, did it? “You speak more like them.”
“That a bad thing?” While Leo’s tone was off-handed, he took a bend with slightly too much momentum.
“Just interesting.” Since Joshua was pretty certain he wouldn’t get more out of Leo on that topic, he changed gears. “I wouldn’t have minded staying around for a football match. You didn’t have to cut things short on my account.”
“Let’s just say that I remember how dreadful a player you are.” The moment it was out, the corners of Leo’s mouth tugged down into a frown. He looked distinctly uncomfortable when really, his assessment hadn’t been too far off the mark. Although, wait…
“Not that you’re wrong, but when did you see me play?” Joshua asked.
A red light forced the van to a halt. Tapping his fingers against the wheel, Leo was staring at the car in front of them, presenting Joshua with only his profile. “I saw a documentary on Eton a while ago. Included some footage of you playing.” He shot Joshua a quick smirk. “Bloody awful, mate.”
Joshua hadn’t known such a documentary existed.
Had George cleared it? Probably. He did love to embarrass Joshua, disguising it as a vested interest in making “Your Royal Brattiness” seem human and approachable.
“I’m not that bad anymore,” Joshua said.
At Leo’s sceptical glance, he laughed and splayed his fingers.
“I mean, I’m still pretty bad, just not as bad as I used to be. Tristan’s been teaching me some.”
“I thought your lot didn’t do torture anymore.” In spite of a lingering tightness around Leo’s eyes, the statement was laced with humour. Joshua decided they were at the stage in their relationship where it was acceptable for him to punch Leo’s arm, so he did.
Leo moaned and pretended to collapse from the pain, but quickly righted himself when the car behind them honked. “Hold your horses,” he muttered, flipping off the other driver in the rear-view mirror.
Joshua shouldn’t be charmed by Leo acting like a dick. He shouldn’t be charmed at all.
Tugging off the beanie, he ruffled his hair before he moved to pull off the Clash T-shirt Leo had lent him. “What are you doing?” Leo asked, sounding frazzled, and Joshua gave him a confused look, pausing with his fingers on the hem.
“Taking off your T-shirt?”
“You can’t just strip naked while I’m driving.”
“I’ve got something on underneath,” Joshua said—which Leo would have known if he hadn’t pointedly left the room as soon as Joshua had begun unbuttoning his shirt earlier.
Shrugging the T-shirt off, Joshua folded it into a neat square that he placed on the dashboard.
Only then did he stop to consider the near-panic that had coloured Leo’s voice.
Why would Leo be quite this invested in Joshua’s state of undress?
Was there some interest? At least a little?
Joshua studied the way Leo was tightly focused on the road. Even if Joshua had mustered up the courage, ignored the whole no-questions promise he’d given and actually asked it—Are you attracted to me?—he knew that Leo would evade an answer. Like he did with all things personal.
Adjusting his posture into something casually at ease, legs splayed and head tipped back, Joshua kept his tone light. “Can I ask a logistical question?”
The tension in Leo’s shoulders relaxed. “Yeah. I may or may not answer.”
“Why switch locations? Wouldn’t it be easier to stick to one place?”