I raise a brow at him. “Are we seriously talking about school?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
I shrug. “Nothing.”
“It’s not like we can talk about school. We’re not dumb.”
“Correction.You’renot dumb.” Henry gives me a look, and I sigh. “Yeah, my test was alright. There’s only a slight chance that I’ll fail. Hopefully, I’ll avoid another lecture from my parents about how much of a disappointment I am.”
“Noah,” Henry admonishes. “You’re not a disappointment.”
“Ha,” I say, before stuffing my face with bread and cheese and avocado.
“I don’t get why you think like this. You know I admire the hell out of you.”
I choke on my food.
“Fuck’s sake, don’t look so surprised. Would I be your friend if I didn’t admire you? You’re so … charismatic, Noah. And you’re a better footy player than me. There, I said it.”
I blink at him before my lips curl into a smile. “Really?”
He rolls his eyes before grinning at me.
Happiness floods through me. I know that I’m a people person. I can hold a conversation with anyone at school, and most teachers like me, even though I do terrible in class and talk a lot. I know that I’m decent at every sport.
Except … Ben and Peter were athletic and personable too. Not only that, Peter was school captain, and Ben got one of the top Year 12 scores in his year level. The school doesn’t let me forget it, and neither does my family.
It’s not as if my family is malicious about it. But it doesn’t make sense how my brothers are way smarter than me. I worry they think I’m lazy or ungrateful for a private education, which I’m not. I just suck at school.
“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t think it,” Henry says.
I blink and realise how fast the doubt crowded my mind, and I force myself to nod. Despite that, now I feel like everything Henry said was a lie.
“This is delicious,” I say instead. “My avocado spreading skills are superb.”
“Add that to your list of accomplishments,” Henry says.
Once we finish our toasties, I take the plates and rinse them in the sink. Afterwards, I put them into the dishwasher, and when I look up, I catch Henry watching me.
He has an odd expression on his face.
“What?” I ask.
He shakes his head, and the expression goes away. “Nothing. Come on, let’s go to the pool house.”
Over the summer, Henry convinced his parents to let him move into the pool house. His older siblings had done so before him, to practice being more independent. We take the stone path through the garden and past the pool to the building, starkly modern compared to the main house.
Inside, there’s a small lounge room with a couch, television and mini-fridge. Through a doorway is the bedroom, with white walls and hardwood floors. Henry’s blankets are blue and white, and he has a pile of clothes nearby his closet. There’s another doorway that leads to a bathroom, with a shower and toilet.
Henry walks over to the pile of clothing and starts taking off his school uniform, his back to me. I look at the back of his neck, tan from the sun, before leaving the room for the lounge room. Henry has an Xbox, like every other guy his age, and I grab two wireless controllers. The TV turns on with a musical note.
“Did you turn on the Xbox?” Henry calls.
“Yep. I’m going to beat you.”
I’m setting up the game for multiplayer when Henry enters the living room. I notice the tan on his shoulders. He’s not wearing a shirt.
Before the kiss, we hung out without shirts all the time, but it means something different now.
