“Jasper.” Senior’s tone is hard, and I straighten in my chair, embarrassment staining my cheeks. “You don’t want to ski alone. You said it yourself.”
“I’d rather be by myself than with him!”
“I don’t understand why you don’t like him.”
“Because…because…” I try to think of a good reason. I have so many, but they’ve all deserted me at the moment. The first thing my brain comes up with is the image of him shirtless in the boys’ bathroom.
A second later, my brain kicks into gear, and a logical sentence comes out of my mouth. “Because he punched a kid on the first day of school! Did you forget that? It’s not normal.”
Senior sighs. “There may be more to that story than meets the eye.”
“Theremay?” I echo. “So you’re not even certain. And there’s nothing more to that story. There were three witnesses, all of which said Kieran started it, unprovoked.” Sure, those three witnesses were Fin himself, and his friends, but I won’t think about that too hard right now.
I’m getting too upset about this, and half of my anger is just my frustration from Mum’s texts, but I can’t help myself. “Fine, he’s coming. Who’s going to pay for his accommodation, for his ski gear and the lift pass and his food —”
“I will. I pay for your things every year,” Senior replies.
“Because I’m yourgrandson,” I exclaim. The silence stretches out after that, and I realise I’m breathing hard and catch my breath. I’ve spent my entire life feeling like I’m not good enough, like I barely deserve my family’s attention or love, and I’m their blood relative. Then Kieran Phillips arrives, a total stranger, and he gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.
I know Senior has always been kind to me. I know my family loves me. But I’ve always felt like I had to work for it. Kieran doesn’t have to work for anything.
“I’m sorry,” I say after a minute. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”
He nods. “Thank you.”
“Okay, bring Kieran. Not that you were asking for my approval.”
“It is my money to spend as I see fit,” Senior says. “I might die at any moment, so I might as well spent it.”
I grimace. “Don’t joke like that.”
We drink our tea. Outside, the wind picks up, shaking tree branches. Raindrops begin to splatter against the window. I hope Kieran’s enjoying his walk.
“Who pays for Kieran’s school fees?” I ask.
Senior’s brows jump up, then he puts his teacup on its saucer. “His father,” he answers.
I look at Senior for a long time, noticing the tiny line of concentration on his forehead. I won’t start a new argument, though. I’ll save this ammunition for next time.
“I should go home to study,” I say, finishing my tea.
Senior relaxes. “Of course.”
I say goodbye to Senior, dropping off the tray and teacups in the kitchen before I leave.
I won’t think about this, I decide as I walk down the front hallway. I’ve got more important things to back home, so I won’t to stare into space and agonise about being stuck with Kieran at a ski lodge.
It won’t bethatbad, anyway. I just won’t talk to him.
When I open the front door, the sight of someone in the garden stops me short. The rain has soaked Kieran’s hair, turning it almost black, and his white t-shirt is transparent, clinging to his chest and stomach. I can his pecs and nipples and —
I rip my eyes away from his body, meeting his eyes. “Wow. Look at you,” I drawl, stepping onto the porch.
He crosses his arms, which makes his biceps bulge. I hate this guy. “You leaving now?” he asks.
I tip my head in a nod.
“Good.”
