Chapter Four Si
Si’s head whirled. Seeing Zig on his doorstep, it was like he was nineteen again and on his first trip to a gay club.
Zig didn’t look exactly the same, of course.
He’d always changed his hair colour as often as he changed his socks.
His face wasn’t so soft around the edges, and his frame seemed more solid, less witchy-thin than he’d been as a teenager.
But that crooked smile was the same, and bloody hell, them eyes were even more dazzling than Si had remembered.
It hadn’t been a conscious decision to hug him. It had just been so bloody good to see the bloke alive and well. Bit painful, too, he wasn’t gonna lie. But Zig had fit into his arms perfectly. Solid. Real.
Over the years, Si had wondered how Zig had been since they’d parted.
Hadn’t been able to stop himself, despite knowing it wasn’t helping him move on one bit.
Would Zig still be breezing through life, or would he have come a cropper, due to the company he kept?
Had Si done the wrong thing, leaving him?
Should he have stayed? Tried harder to overcome all them other influences in Zig’s life?
Could he have made a difference? Would Zig have wanted him to?
Now here he was. In Si’s flat, with his black-and-blue hair and trendy clothes, acting like it’d been no time at all since they’d last seen each other.
Or maybe not quite like that. Zig had seemed hesitant at first, when they’d hugged. Like he thought it was weird, and maybe it was at that. But gods.
Si took a deep breath. Get a grip. “You hungry, mate?” he called over his shoulder as he led Zig down the narrow hallway into the living room. “Can rustle you up something on toast, or there’s plenty of takeaways if you’d rather.”
“Nah, cheers, mate. I’ve eaten.” Zig paused in the doorway, glancing around the room.
Bugger. There were bike mags and Doctor Who crap all over the place. Si should have tidied up, but who ever came round but his mates?
“Actually, your mum fed me,” Zig went on before Si could muster an apology for the mess. “Thought she might’ve called to let you know I was on me way?”
Si blinked. “No, haven’t heard from her. You were round my mum and dad’s?” Back when they’d been going out, Si hadn’t even thought of introducing Zig to his parents, and now he’d been round for dinner?
“Well, yeah. Didn’t have your current address, did I?”
“S’pose you didn’t.” What would Zig have done if he’d gone to the old address and found nobody home—or if Mum and Dad had moved?
Asking the question seemed a bit personal, somehow, so he didn’t.
Weird, though, to think of Zig in the house Si had grown up in.
He couldn’t remember giving Zig the address, but he must have, he guessed.
And Zig had kept it all this time? Si’s chest tightened.
“What did you tell ’em about me?” Zig asked. There was a strange tension in the way he was holding himself, and he wasn’t looking Si in the face.
Si frowned. “Not much, I don’t think. Bit hard to remember, after all these years.”
“Yeah? Your mum seemed to recognise my name, that’s all.”
“Oh—” Shit. Si smiled awkwardly as the memories came flooding back. “Yeah, that’s right. Must’ve mentioned you a few times.”
Sobbed my bloody heart out over you, more like. Told her I’d finally met someone I wanted to be with and he’d turned out to be a wrong’un. And he didn’t even feel the same about me, neither.
Si’s heart clenched. “Just gonna put the kettle on.” He went into the kitchen, where he’d left his phone on charge. On silent, too, as it turned out. Two missed calls from Mum. He ought to ring her back, but what was he gonna say? Yeah, he’s here now. No, I don’t know why, after all this time.
Yes, I think I still care about him.