Chapter 21
KAI
Friday couldn’t come quickly enough.
I was already in the computer room, sitting at one of the middle desks, pretending to scroll through something on the screen while my eyes kept flicking to the door. Alex wasn’t here yet. The bell had only gone five minutes ago, but still, I watched the clock like it was mocking me.
Each second felt louder than it should. Each minute dragged like it had somewhere better to be.
I just needed to know if he was in - if he’d been suspended, expelled, or if everything had just blown over like I’d hoped it would.
When the brown-haired boy finally appeared in the doorway, I let out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding.
He was okay.
“Hi,” I said with a smile.
“Hi,” he said back, with a small wave as he approached me. “I didn’t think you’d be here this early.” He gestured to the clock on the wall.
“Yeah, I packed my own lunch today.” I shrugged. “I normally do because I hate the canteen lines; Tuesday was a one-off because mum hadn’t got the shopping in yet.”
It hadn’t even been one minute with Alex Taylor and I was already rambling.
“Oh, right.” He said, sitting down next to me.
“You hungry?” I asked, knowing full well I’d made an extra sandwich just in case he hadn’t eaten again.
Alex dug through his bag and pulled out a bottle of lemon and lime flavoured water, a packet of Ready Salted Walkers, and a small chocolate bar. “You don’t have to feed me today,” he said with a smile.
“Is that all you’re having?” I raised an eyebrow.
That wouldn’t even touch the sides for me.
And it was all empty calories - no wonder he was just skin and bones.
“Now I feel like a right pig,” I muttered as I unloaded my own food, lining everything up in the exact order I planned to eat it.
I’d done this for as long as I could remember.
Not doing it felt wrong in the same way walking backwards did - technically possible, but deeply uncomfortable.
He chuckled. “That is a lot of food. But you look good for it. I mean - you don’t look fat or like a pig, or anything, so that’s good.” He said with an awkward smile, trying for casual but failing adorably.
Now he was rambling.
“Oh, good. I’m glad I don’t look like a pig,” I said with a laugh.
He shook his head, cheeks blooming pink. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“Pig and a goldfish. What unlikely friends.” I shook my head, a soft chuckle slipping out.
“Still sticking with that goldfish thing?” he asked, brown eyes wide in that innocent way as he looked up at me. The scratches on his face were still there, faint now, but seeing them smaller made something in my chest loosen.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, nodding. “Goldie is your nickname forever.”
“But I don’t look like a Goldie,” he protested. “I literally have brown hair. Brown eyes.”
Didn’t I know it.
“Ah, but it’s not just about looks,” I said, wagging a finger. “Nicknames can be about personality, too.”
“And I have the personality of a goldfish?” He asked with a laugh. His eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled.
“Exactly. Now you’re getting it.” I mused, finding my gaze sharpening on him. The way he smiled with his whole face, not just his lips.
“So I can call you Piggy from now on, then, yeah?” he said - lighter, more confident than I’d ever heard him. Like he was actually enjoying talking with me.
“Oh, I don’t know about that one.” I shook my head, trying not to smile. “It doesn’t have the same kind of ring to it.”
“Maybe not,” he said with a shrug, opening his drink and taking a sip before adding, “I think I’ll just stick with Kai for now.”
“For now?” I leaned in without meaning to.
“Until I think of something better.” Another shrug. Another small spin on his chair.
“Good idea. Maybe something cool, you know, to match my personality.” I smirked.
“What, like Cap ?” He rolled his eyes dramatically, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Hey, I didn’t ask them to call me that,” I defended, laughing with my hands up.
“You don’t ask them to stop either.” He shook his head, taking another swig of his drink.
I just looked at him for a moment and chuckled. I was probably grinning like an idiot. “Touché,” I said, taking the last bite of my sandwich.
A beat of silence settled between us.
Alex shifted in his seat, fingers tapping lightly on the desk before he said, “Shall we get some work done? The last thing I need is another teacher on my case.” He put his drink back on the desk and shifted the mouse. The screen blinked on.
“Because of yesterday?” I asked carefully. I’d been hoping he’d bring it up himself because I didn’t want to be that guy - the one who only cared about gossip. And I didn’t want to push him if he wasn’t ready. He’d looked so shaken yesterday.
He nodded, lips pressing together for a moment.
“I bet the whole school is talking about it.” He leaned back in his chair, tipping it slightly.
“I don’t think so.” They absolutely were. “Only the ones who were there.”
“So… you then?” He looked over at me, and his eyes did that thing again. That soft, wounded look like he was bracing for judgment. It made something in my chest twist. I wanted to fix it, somehow.
I shook my head. “No. I mean - yeah, the lads mentioned it when it happened, but everyone’s basically forgotten about it now.” They hadn’t.
Not even close. But I hoped he’d believe me anyway.
“Yeah, well, Coach hasn’t.” He sighed. “Or Mrs Carter.”
“They spoke to you?” I asked casually, biting into my apple.
He shook his head. “After school… I’ve got a meeting with Mum.”
“That’s rough,” I said, my face shifting into something sympathetic without me even thinking about it.
“You don’t know the half of it.” He sighed while looking up at the clock, but there was something in the way the words slipped out that told me this wasn’t just about school. “But it is what it is, I guess.” Another shrug.
His voice was flat, resigned - like he’d already accepted a verdict no one had actually given him. It wasn’t dramatic, just… defeated. The kind of tone that made you think he’d said that line a thousand times before, and never once believed it.
“I’m sure it will be fine,” I reassured.
“You don’t know that.” He said it quickly, but it felt like he was talking about something else entirely.
“I don’t think they would’ve let you back into school if they were planning to expel you. And you said your grades are good.” I shrugged. “It was just a bad day; we all have those.”
“Yeah. My life seems to be a series of those.” He took another drink, eyes fixed on the ceiling like he was trying to escape into it.
“What do you mean?” I asked. I wanted to know. I could feel the weight of whatever he wasn’t saying.
He sat up, shoulders tightening, and shrugged. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
Before I could push again, he wiggled the mouse and logged into the computer, pulling up our PowerPoint like the conversation had never happened.
“Anything I can do to help?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. Alex looked at me like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.
“Not unless you’ve got a time machine or sit on the school board.” He turned back to the computer screen.
“Sorry, can’t help you with that one,” I said, forcing a laugh and running a hand through my hair.
“Didn’t think so.” He barely glanced at me.
“But you’re okay though, right? After yesterday?”
That made him look at me again - confused, almost wary, like he wasn’t used to people asking. For a second I thought he wouldn’t answer, but then:
“I guess.” His shoulders loosened. “If Coach had just listened to me.” He muttered to himself.
“You should have just told him you fell off your bike and that’s why you couldn’t play-”
“What?” Alex’s eyebrows pulled together.
I cleared my throat. “Erm, I just figured you couldn’t do it ’cause you fell off your bike and you were in pain or something? Sorry if I jumped the gun.” I shook my head. I felt stupid as soon as I said it. Like some freak that seemed to take note of everything this boy said.
“Oh. Right. Yeah.” He nodded slowly, like he was only just remembering the excuse he’d given me. “Well,” he shrugged, “can’t go back now.”
I hated how, when I looked at his eyes, there always seemed to be something behind them. Like stained glass - colours shifting, hiding whatever he wasn’t saying. Something about it felt… off.
Maybe I was overthinking it. But the twist in my gut told me there was more to uncover.
So I did what any normal person would do - I pushed.
“Do you bike a lot then?” I leaned in, elbows on my knees.
Alex shifted in his seat. “Sometimes.” His eyes stayed glued to the computer screen.
I nodded, shifting forward in my seat. “Where do you ride?”
“What?” he sighed, barely glancing at me.
“Where do you ride?” I pressed again.
“I dunno.” He shrugged, eyes glued to the computer screen. “Just around, I guess. What is this, an interrogation?”
“No, I’m just trying to get to know you.” I lifted my hands in surrender, a small laugh slipping out.
“Why?” He finally looked at me, suspicion flickering across his face.
“Because we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together with the assignments and stuff,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “so I figured… why not get to know you.”
Alex stared at me like he was trying to figure out the catch - like he didn’t trust the idea that someone might just want to know him.
“What, am I not allowed to get to know you or something?” I asked, raising a brow.
“No, it’s not that.” He shook his head quickly, his cheeks darkening as he fiddled with the edge of his sleeve. “It’s just-”
“Just what?” I leaned in a little, trying to catch his eyes.
“I know I’m not…” He trailed off, his fingers tightening around the mouse like he needed something to hold onto.
“You’re not what?”
“I’m not like the normal guys you hang out with.” His voice dropped, almost apologetic.
I raised a brow, waiting.
“Like, I don’t like football or talk about girls or anything.” He shook his head, staring down at the desk.
“I know that.” I nodded slowly like it was obvious.
“Yeah, so… it’s cool if we just do the work and that’s it.” He swallowed, shoulders curling in. “I’m not expecting us to be friends or whatever.”
“I thought we were friends,” I said, leaning back in my seat, arms folding loosely across my chest as I watched his reaction.
“You did?” His eyebrows lifted, genuine surprise softening his whole face.
I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah.”
“Oh.” He leaned back too, the wheels of his chair squeaking slightly as he shifted.
“Do you not want to be my friend or something?” I tilted my head, watching him carefully.
He shook his head quickly. “No. I do.”
“Okay then. That settles it. We’re friends.” I tapped the desk lightly, like it was official now.
“Okay… so now what?” He blinked at me, unsure.
“We talk about friend things, I guess.” I shrugged, trying to sound casual.
“Like what?”
“Like… what football team do you support?” I nudged his arm with my elbow.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t support any. I’m not really the sport type, if you haven’t noticed.” He let out a dry laugh and scratched the back of his neck.
“Oh, come on. You must have one. If you had to pick any team, what would it be?” I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees.
He shrugged again. “I dunno. England, I guess.”
I laughed, dropping my head for a second. “You don’t know any of the teams, do you?”
He shook his head, laughing with me. “I told you I don’t know sports.”
“Okay, so what do you do?” I asked, gesturing vaguely with my hand.
Another shrug. He fiddled with the cap of his drink, eyes flicking away.
“There must be something. A hobby or something you like doing.”
“I guess I like bird watching.” He said it quietly, almost bracing himself for me to laugh. But I didn’t. “There’s a wall at the back of the netball courts. Sometimes I just sit there for hours, watching the birds.”
I knew that wall. It had been built for the art class a few years back, part of some project everyone forgot about as soon as the paint dried.
I didn’t think anyone went there anymore.
It was tucked away behind the shed, out of sight, the kind of place you only found if you were looking for somewhere to disappear.
“Is that where you were yesterday?” I asked casually, peeling the lid off my yoghurt.
He nodded. “It’s quiet there. I like it.” A small smile tugged at his mouth, the kind that looked like it didn’t get much practice.
“Well, I guess we’re even then.” I leaned back in my chair, digging my spoon into my yoghurt pot.
“Why?” He tilted his head, hair falling into his eyeline before he brushed it away.
“Because you don’t know anything about football, and I know fuck all about birds - other than the fact they fly.” I laughed, shaking my head.
“Not all of them fly. Flightless birds are cool too, like penguins, emus-”
“Chickens?”
“Actually, chickens can fly.” He perked up a little, almost offended. “It’s a common misconception that they don’t. Only in short bursts, though. Mostly to get away from predators.”
“Wow,” I said, grinning, “you’re actually a bit of a nerd.”
“I’m not a nerd.” He frowned, crossing his arms.
“You kind of are.” I teased, pointing my spoon at him.
“I’m kind of not.” He defended, a smile still tugging at his lips.
“It’s not a bad thing. I think it’s kind of cute.” The words slipped out before my brain could slam on the brakes.
Cute .
Why the hell was I calling him cute?
I didn’t call Callum cute. Or Bryce. Or any of the lads. But with Alex… it just fit. Too well.
His cheeks flushed pink as he looked up at me, that same wide-eyed, innocent expression that did something weird to my chest.
I tore my gaze away, staring hard at my half-eaten yoghurt and second sandwich. I hadn’t even finished my lunch. Or got any work done.
What was I doing?
I wiggled the mouse on the computer, the cursor jerking awake on the screen for the third time in the last fifteen minutes.
If I could look like I was working, maybe he wouldn’t know I was freaking the fuck out.
My fingers hovered uselessly over the keyboard, pretending to type something that wasn’t even close to real.
Because no one made me feel like he did.
No one.
And I didn’t know why or what to do with that information. My leg bounced under the desk, my chest tightening every time I caught the faintest movement from his side of the room.
When the bell rang, two minutes later, I was relieved. I practically launched myself out of my seat, grabbing my bag so fast the chair scraped loudly against the floor.
“Uh - good luck with the meeting thing,” I managed, already halfway to the door. My voice cracked, and I didn’t look back. I couldn’t.
Holy shit.
What was Alex Taylor doing to me?