“I’m sorry. For being an asshole to you all these years.”
I looked around for a hidden camera, convinced I was the subject of a prank.
Alexander’s laugh resounded along the concrete walls, reclaiming my attention. “What are you looking for?”
“You’re messing with me,” I said.
“I’m not,” he insisted. “I swear I’m not. I’m being serious.”
“Why now, then?”
“Why apologise, you mean?”
I nodded.
“I don’t know. I guess I just…want to be friends with good people and…you are someone I should have befriended back in year seven.”
“I thought youweregoing to befriend me,” I admitted. “And then you turned on me. Why?”
Alexander ran his fingers through his hair, averting his gaze. “I…was threatened by you.”
“Threatened by me? Why?”
“Come on, Augustus. You’re smart. Haven’t you figured it out?”
I shook my head.
“You got a higher score than me in that test. The one that decides what level class you’re in,” he explained, shaking his head. “Until you came along, I was the smartest in the room. And I was scared. Rightfully so. You’re one smart motherfucker.”
“I'm not. Notnaturally.I work hard for my grades. And besides, you’re smart too,” I said. “You’ve beaten me loads of times.”
“You’ve beaten me more.”
I scratched the back of my neck, not knowing what to say. An apology was on the tip of my tongue, but that didn’t feel right. Why should I apologise for my success? I worked hard. I deserved every good grade I received. And yet…the crestfallen look on his face tugged at something in my chest. Guilt.
“Listen…it was never my intention to…threaten you in any way,” I said, carefully, “I just wanted to do well. My aunt paid a lot of money for this school, and I owe it to her to do my absolute best.”
“Yeah, of course, I get it,” he nodded, lifting his gaze to give me a sad smile, “my parents want me to be the best, too. They think I don’t try. And then they get angry and…”
He trailed off, the unspoken words heavy in the air. I chewed on the inside of my mouth, chest tightening at the memories of walking past Alexander in the school corridors, his blue and black bruises blinding.
“Regardless,” he spoke up again, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have been such an asshole to you.”
“Thank you,” I breathed out. “I uh…I appreciate that.”
He gave me a smile—not a grin, not a smirk—a genuine smile. It softened his features, made him look younger, boyish.
Light poured in from an arched window as we paused at the top of a staircase overlooking the view of the fortress grounds. We stood, shoulder to shoulder, hands almost touching on the stone railing.
“Can you imagine being here, hundreds of years ago, guarding the Queen of England within these very walls?” he breathed out. “We’re standing where young men like ourselves would have once stood, willing to die for Queen and Country.”
I smiled at his enthusiasm. While Alexander was indeed studious, I would have never guessed his passion for history.It was clear that within this fortress, I was privy to a side of Alexander he kept concealed.
While he studied the view, I studied his face. His skin was a shade lighter than mine, a single mole beneath the right side of his bottom lip. And those lips…they were a pale pink, curved like a long bow. I was imagining how soft they would feel against my fingers when he looked up, catching me eyeing him like a ghost eyeing the living.
I immediately dropped my gaze, heart thundering wildly in my chest. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Boys!” Mr Singh called out from the bottom of the staircase. “Stay with the group!”
