“Everything else?”
“The views. Getting to work in the fresh air every day.”
“Fresh except for the cow muck.”
He laughs. “It’s not that bad.”
“You love it, don’t you?”
His eyes sparkle. “Yes, I do.” The sparkle diminishes, replaced by sadness. He looks away.
I want to tell him he made the right choice, but that isn’t my call to make. He's happier when he’s not thinking about Billy.
After about ten minutes, the yellow water taxi chugs into view. It docks in front of the bench, and wewait while half a dozen people disembark before boarding. Flynn pays for us. After some friendly banter with the skipper, we sit outside on a narrow wooden bench, with the breeze ruffling our hair while we travel down the canal towards Leeds docks.
I’ve done this trip before for fun, but it’s terrific to see the awe in Flynn’s eyes as he gets to see a tiny part of Leeds from a different angle.
It only takes about 10 minutes to reach our destination. The tall, glass building of the Royal Armouries dominates the plethora of offices, restaurants, pubs, and apartment buildings. Inside, the hall of steel, which extends the entire height of the building, is stunning. A pyramid of mirrors on the floor makes it easier to see the hundreds of weapons hung on the walls, but it’s also fun to look up, even if it does strain my neck and make me go dizzy after a while.
We discover elephant armour and Henry VIII’s famous horned helmet and marvel at the displays featuring weapons from throughout history and the world. The information plaques offer plenty of insights and we share our thoughts on how fierce, spiky, or sharp something is as we make our way around the museum at a leisurely pace.
Once we’ve exhausted the museum and left a donation out of gratitude, we wander along the towpath towards the city centre, a lightness between us that has been missing for years. It makes me regret the way I behaved after Flynn and Billy got together. Why did Iwaste so much time and energy wanting to hate them, instead of being satisfied with friendship?
“What are you going to do after your finals?” Flynn asks.
I shrug. “I haven’t made any yet.” But I need to.
“Any ideas?”
“Honestly? I want everything to stay the same. Being a student is great. You’ve got all the freedom of being an adult, without any of the responsibility.” I kick a stone into the canal. “But that can’t happen, so I guess I’ll get a job somewhere.”
“In sport?”
“Maybe I could be a professional gym bro.”
Flynn laughs. “I’m not sure that’s a job.”
“Well, fuck. Now what am I going to do?”
“You could be a trainer at a gym.”
“Isn’t that the same thing as being a pro gym bro?”
“You tell me?”
“It is,” I decide. “And you’re right, it would be the perfect job for me. I might even get a free gym membership out of it.” I raise my arm and flex my biceps. “Gotta keep these babies looking fine.”
Flynn stares at my bulging muscles, eyes wide. “They look very fine,” he squeaks. “But, please, don’t call thembabies.”
“What else would I call them?”
“Muscles.”
“All right, I’ve got to keep my muscles looking fine.”
“Better.”
We grin at each other and then look away at the same time.
