“And whatever else you were up to on Grindr or whatever. What if you’d met Sam then? What would you have done?”
“I’d never have met Sam then. He doesn’t do shit like that.”
“And you think that makes him too good for you? Jesus, mate. I read the other day that eighty per cent of gay men use hook-up apps, even when they’re in relationships.”
“Did you read a queer dude’s BFF manual or something?”
“Nope. I’m just informed. And just as well, as according to you, the BFF position is, er, filled.”
I sighed. “I’m not Sam’s best friend.”
“Why not? That’s what he said, isn’t it?”
Sam had said a lot of things over the last few weeks, and anti-depressants made me shit at remembering every little detail. All I knew was that we’d effectively friend-zoned each other without a reason good enough for me to explain to Freddie. “I wish it hadn’t happened.”
“Which bit?”
“Any of it. We were fine until things got weird. I want things to go back to the way they were before.”
“Ain’t gonna happen, mate. It was always going to get complicated between you two eventually.”
“Oh, really?” I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Failed.
Freddie didn’t give a shit. “Really,” he said. “Look, I thought it was weird when you moved in with a stranger and didn’t get your own place, but it made sense after a while when I saw how calm you were around him. It was like everything that had been bothering you all these years went away.”
“That was the pills the quacks gave me.”
“No, it was Sam. It was being around a gay dude without having to pretend you were someone else, and living like a normal human being. Then you got closer. And by now, well, face it, dude, the only thing youdon’tdo together is fuck.”
I tried to unpick Freddie’s theory. To find the mistruths and plot holes, but there were none, because he was right. The only thing he hadn’t thought of was the ugly phenomenon that had fucked me up in the first place. “We can’t be together,” I whispered. “The paps, the media... they’ll ruin his life. It’s a miracle they haven’t already.”
“You don’t think he’s prepared for that? I know he’s not a football fan, but he knew who you were before you moved in. That if the paps figured out he was queer, he’d be in for it too. Sam’s not stupid, mate.”
Of course he wasn’t. Even using the word in the same sentence as his name made me want to chin Freddie.
He knew it, too. He got up and jerked his head towards the changing rooms. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get some lunch.”
11
Sam
Micah never came to the pub at lunchtime, so it was fair to say I was pretty surprised when he rocked up with Freddie just after midday. And embarrassed, as I hadn’t seen Freddie since I’d petulantly ignored his message. A message that, if I’d taken it the way he’d meant it, could’ve saved me and Micah weeks of awkward bullshit.
Luckily for me, Freddie seemed to have forgotten all about it and treated me with the same mild amusement he always did, leaving me to ignore him.
Business as usual. At least it would’ve been if Micah’s gaze wasn’t drilling holes in me.Why is he here?Cos I knew it wasn’t for the Noble Fox’s average club sandwiches.
“Do you want me to take over their table?” Céleste stage whispered.
“Why would I want that?”
“Because you look like a rabbit in headlights.”
“Do not.” To strengthen my argument, I picked up the tray with Micah and Freddie’s drinks and carried it to the booth where they’d set up shop. Micah seemed to track my every move, but he didn’t speak. Only Freddie murmured a quiet thanks.
Disturbed, I retreated to where Céleste was watching the whole thing play out with her hands on her hips. “Something’s changed,” she said.
“Hmm?”
