Four.
Not long now.
Three.
It’s working...
T—
Fuck.
My eyes fly open.I’m not imagining the sound of a key turning in the lock.I snap the lighter shut and leap up.I just about manage to close my fly as the door bursts open.
“Oh, hello.”
There’s a blond guy standing in the doorway.Why the hell does he have a key to my room?
“Ever heard of knocking?”I snap.
“On my own door?”He frowns, then strolls in and bangs it shut.“But maybe you’re right.Just let me know in future if you want a wank and neither of us will get a shock.”
I flush.I want to correct him but then I realize it’s better if he thinks I was jerking off.Anything’s better than the truth.
“I was unpacking,” I say instead.
“Aye, I noticed.Good job you packed it away in time too.”
It takes me a moment to grasp what he means.“What the...”
“Only joking, pal.”He comes closer.“Sinclair,” he says.Hold on.Wasn’t that the principal’s name, or am I going nuts?“And you’re the newbie.”
“Yeah.”I turn away.
“Right, got you.So you’re kind of pissed off about this whole thing.”The blond guy drops onto his bed.“I thought you Americans were fans of small talk, polite conversation?”
“I’m a New Yorker,” I growl, which should be explanation enough.
“Oh, sorry, my mistake.”He grins.“Then I won’t ask how your flight was or if you’re settling in.”
God, we’ve barely spent five minutes together, and I can’t stand the sound of his voice.“Yeah, no need.”
“Fine.And I know your name anyway,” he continues, unfazed.“My mum told me.Colin Fantino, right?Isn’t your mum that—”
“Yeah, man.”I whirl around.“She is, and would you just shut up, or do you want me to ask her for an autograph?”
He blinks innocently.“My girlfriend loves her show.”I glare at him.“But sorry, don’t mind me.Want me to piss off so that you can get back to yourunpacking?”
“God, how old are you?Twelve?”
“Eighteen,” he says.“How about you?”
I say nothing.
“Wait, let me guess.You’re going into the lower sixth...Sixteen?”
I snort.
“Seventeen, then?Had your birthday already?”
