El curls his finger through Mike’s corn-coloured locks. “You should just shave it off. You have cool hair, Mike, but I really think you’d rock the skinhead biker look.”
We all laugh. I don’t know how he does it, but El can make the most uncomfortable conversations fly. Maybe you have to have lived a harder kind of life to become an expert in that sort of thing. I realize I feel like this a lot when I think about him – my admiration for his grace and talents tinged with sad thoughts of how he came to be the Ellis I know and love. Thinking this, my mind returns again to Christmas. I still don’t buy the explanations he gave me for his vanishing act, and every so often I’ll catch a darkness in his mood that worries me.
When I look up again, Mike is holding the footie shirt I bought him and the set of colouring books.
“The shirt because you wanted it,” I say. “And those are chemo colouring books: Batman villains and alien planets of the DC universe. I’m going to time us on my phone. Fastest colourer wins one of those free NHS barf bowls. And I don’t want any but-my-colouring-arm’s-hooked-up-to-a-drip excuses.”
“Me next,” El says, jumping on the spot. “I haven’t wrapped it, sorry.”
He reaches into his shirt pocket and takes out this little onyx pendant on a piece of multicoloured string. I know straight away that El has fashioned and polished the stone himself, because he’d never give a gift that didn’t have a personal touch. He turns its face to the light and I see a staring symbol picked out in tiny silver pointillist dots.
“It’s the Eye of Ra,” he says, tying the string around Mike’s neck. “An ancient symbol of protection. It’ll watch over you, keep you safe.”
Mike’s voice is hoarse as he touches the stone. “Thanks, mate.” Then he rallies himself. “Okay, so there’s cake in fifteen minutes, but in the meantime, my bedroom’s empty.”
“Dude,” I say, “no way! That’s where we’ve had sleepovers since were six.”
“Dylan, we’re not six any more. Anyway, you have my permission for fifteen minutes of kissing and heavy petting.” He raises two fingers, like a blessing. “It ismygift to you on this auspicious day.”
Me and El exchange a quick glance, then head as nonchalantly as we can back into the house. Seconds later, I’m closing the bedroom door behind us. El pulls me to him and we lose most of our time just kissing. Precious minutes hurtle by until we suddenly hear Big Mike bellowing “CAKE!” and we part, groaning in unison.
“I hope it’s a Starburst cake,” El says. “That would be some compensation.”
“I don’t think such a cake exists.”
He rolls his eyes. “I hate this universe.”
“All of it?”
He grabs my waist and pulls me back from the door. “No, not all of it.”
“C’mon.” I drag him with me into the corridor. “Mike’s day, remember.”
“Oh!” He slaps his forehead. “I forgot your present! So, I thought you’d get jealous of my amazingly thoughtful Mike-gift, and I didn’t want a pouty boyfriend pouting at me all day with his beautiful pouty lips, so here you go.”
He takes a single yellow sheet from the same pocket as Mike’s amulet and hands it to me. I unfold the sketch and blood courses into my face.
“You are so adorable when you blush.” El grins.
“This is…” I stare at the image. “This is pure filth, Ellis Bell!”
El’s smile drops. He takes the drawing and holds it between us.
“No, Dylan, it’s me and it’syou. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life, and I want you to see yourself as I see you. Stop hiding away, stop doubting yourself. I love you because you’re kind and clever and funny and you’re freakin’ hot! Do you understand?”
“Okay.” I don’t quite believe him, even though I know El wouldn’t lie about something like this. But my boyfriend isn’t infallible and… Well, I can’t look like this in real life, can I? “But where will I keep it?”
He slings an arm around my shoulder. “Tape it under your desk drawer.”
We separate on the bottom stair and head out through the empty kitchen. Down in the garden, Mike is being paraded around in his deckchair by the footie guys, all chanting his name, while Big Mike follows, holding the cake aloft. He really does look like a Roman emperor. Suddenly Carol’s calling me down to help cut the cake.
In the minutes that follow, I lose track of El. Mike and I are laughing our arses off at Ollie Reynolds as he tries to beatbox along to “Happy Birthday To You”while Big Mike is showering everyone with party streamers. The crowd ebbs and flows around us. And then I catch sight of El talking again to my dad. Heart in my mouth, I’m about to head over when Ellis spots me and breaks off the conversation.
“All good?” I ask as he reaches me.
He looks lost for a moment, then scratches his elbow and gazes towards the road.
“Yeah. But wow, your dad really doesn’t like to be contradicted in a debate, does he?”
