Prologue
Nathan
Nathan liked celebrating his birthday—not for the presents, but because it was one of the few days of the year when he knew he’d see his dad. They didn’t see each other that often, what with Nathan off at boarding school most of the year. And when Nathan was home on breaks, his father was usually away on business, with his current wife, stepmum number three, tagging along to hit up the local boutiques.
“Where you going, Ginj?”
Nathan rolled his eyes. Two of his classmates walked up to him in the lobby of their boarding school, snickering to each other. There always had to be at least two. It was like that light bulb joke: one person to make the stupid comment, and another to laugh at it.
“Don’t call me Ginj,” Nathan said. This was England. Had they really never seen a redhead before? Apparently, Nathan must’ve been the first ginger student accepted to this school.
The dipshit duo cracked up behind him.
“Don’t make him angry,” dipshit number two said. “Gingers go crazy when they get angry. Like an Orange Hulk.” He could barely get that lame joke out before laughing again.
Nathan gave them the finger.
“You’re an hour late,” Nathan said when his dad pulled up in his Porsche to the boarding school.
“We said seven-thirty, didn’t we?”
“Six-thirty. I do have curfew here.”
“Which you’ve been breaking. I got another email about it from the headmaster,” his dad said. “What’ve you and your friends been getting up to?”
“They’re not my friends.” Nathan narrowed his eyes at the road.
“He heard suspicions of gambling. Have you been organizing an underground casino?”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m not a bloody pit boss. It’s a poker game. I’ve wiped the floor with my classmates. They bluff about their hands as well as they do about their heterosexuality.”
His dad turned a shade of red. Nathan had recently come out to him over Christmas holiday, but his dad seemed to have as much interest in that as he did the rest of Nathan’s life.
“I can’t afford to find yet another school who will take you, Nathan…”
“The headmaster has only heard rumors. We haven’t been caught.”
“...because they won’t hesitate. They will throw you right out if you cause trouble.”
“All right!”
“I don’t know why you insist on acting out like this.”
Nathan rested his head against the window, looking out on a neighborhood of little cottages, wondering if the families in them fought as much as they did.
“‘Hi, Nathan. How are you doing? It’s good to see you. Happy birthday, son! Blimey. I can’t believe you’re fifteen,’” Nathan said to the window in his father’s voice.
His dad softened his grip on the steering wheel and ran a hand down his thinning dark hair. “It is good to see you, son. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to make it up to see you sooner. I’ve been extremely busy. My clients have been quite restless of late.”
Nathan nodded along. These excuses were as overplayed as a pop single.
“How’s school?”
“It’s fine.”
“That was a good impression of me,” his dad said. “You should try out for the school play. Do they do that here?”
“They do. I got the lead. Again.”
