Page 22 of Praising Haru


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We’ve paused at traffic lights. This is the neighbourhood I grew up in. The streets I walked through every day to get to high school. Across the road is the corner shop I’d buy sweets in when I got pocket money each Saturday. If we were to go straight ahead at these lights, we’d get to the community centre my Scout group met in. There’s a huge hill close to it, which was great for sledging down the one or two days a year we got good snow.

Dad sets off again, turning right. We go past my original primary school. I was only there for a term before the bullying got too much, and Mum and Dad moved me to one farther away. My stomach turns as I recall begging my parents to tell my new teachers I was Harry rather than Haru. They looked at me with sad eyes but agreed.

My phone beeps and vibrates against my hand. I jump out of my skin and press my hand over my heart.

It’s pretty decent. There are a few pubs and a show bar. They’re all on Lower Briggate, within spitting distance of each other. Look for the railway bridge painted in Pride colours, and you’ve found the queer zone.

Did he know that, or did he have to look it up?

Thanks. I’ll check them out next weekend.

My favourite is Blayd’s Bar. It’s tucked away, so it’s the hardest to find.

I widen my eyes.

I could show you if you want.

That would be great.

Next Saturday?

I want to send ‘it’s a date’, but that’s not what it is. It’s a friend introducing another friend to a bar. A queer bar. His favourite queer bar. Grinning, I send a reply.

I’m looking forward to it.

CHAPTER4

KYLE

I spend the week keeping Haru’s spirits up while he job-hunts. It’s clear from his messages that he’s feeling listless and would rather be working than kicking about at his parents’ house writing applications.

Haru

It doesn’t help that I don’t have a proper reference.

You didn’t get one when they made you redundant?

I got an open reference, but all it says is the dates I worked there and the number of sick days I took.

That sucks. I’m sorry.

Clive—that’s my boss, my old boss—emailed to say he would be happy to give me a reference, but I don’t know if I can take him up on the offer.

Why not?

Because he’s jobless too and needs to concentrate on himself rather than writing references for everyone he managed. This whole situation fucking sucks. Sorry. You don’t want to listen to me whine.

Hey, I remember a night when you did nothing but listen to me rant.

Yeah, I remember that night too.

It’s time I returned the favour. Moan. Rant. Do whatever you need.

Thanks. I promise I’ll be more cheerful when we meet in person. We’re still going out on Saturday, aren’t we?

Yes.

I’d been shocked when Haru had asked me what the gay scene was like in Leeds and a little excited too. I hadn’t realised he was into guys. It wasn’t something we’d ever talked about. It doesn’t change that he’s far too sweet and cute to screw around with, but it gives us something else in common. I’m looking forward to showing him the city’s gay bars.