“Hello, Shadow,” he said, leaning back against Max’s door with his hands in his pocket. “Have fun drawing the night away?”
I ignored him. Nothing good ever came from engaging with Dominic. I’d learned that the hard way.
My face burned when I thought about how desperately I’d wanted him to be my friend all those years ago. To be included in the special bond he shared with Max. Something he reminded me of every time he called me by that fucking nickname.
Unfortunately, Dominic didn’t leave it there. “You know, art isn’t going to help you get girls.”
I gritted my teeth, hand on the doorknob. “Oh yeah, well maybe you should tell that to Matisse. He and Klimt did okay for themselves.”
“I’ve literally never heard of them.”
“Surprise, surprise,” I muttered under my breath.
“Sure you’re not gay?”
I froze, blinking at him in confusion. “What? No. I’m not gay.”
Dominic shrugged. “Nothing wrong with it if you are.”
“Didn’t say there was anything wrong with it,” I said in bewilderment. “But I’m not gay. I like girls.”
“Maybe I’d believe that if I ever saw you with one.”
The anger from earlier returned, leaving an unfamiliar taste in my mouth. “So what, because I like to draw and I don’t fuck every girl that moves, I must be gay?”
“No.” He smirked. “But you don’t fuckanygirls, Ryan. That’s my point.”
“Well I’m not.” My face was burning, but I didn’t look away from him. I refused. He was trying to make me uncomfortable and I was so done with letting him. “Why are you so interested? Areyougay?”
“Fuck no,” he snorted. “I like pussy, man. As much of it as I can possibly get.”
I let my gaze rove over him, letting my disgust show. “You’re gross, Dominic.”
He winked at me before pushing off Max’s door and heading for the stairs. “At least I’m honest, Ryan.”
3
Ryan
A week later and the bruises had faded to a gross yellow, only hurting if pressure was applied. I hadn’t pissed blood or had any symptoms that required a doctor.
Small mercies, I guessed.
No one noticed—thank fuck. I’d never bothered to pass on the intended message to Max. He wouldn’t give a shit. At this point, I was certain I didn’t even exist to him. He seemed to have been going out of his way to ignore me after his argument with Mum the other day.
I didn’t mind. The peace and quiet was better than his constant sniping.
We were sat at the table with Mum and Dad, making our way through a massiveSunday roastas we did every week.
And as always, Dominic was here too.
“We’re going to get the train up to Reading,” Max was saying, roast potato on his fork as he waved it around emphatically. “Then we’ll just walk to the campsite.”
“Walk?” Mum wasn’t best pleased about them going to a festival, but this might be the straw that broke the camel’s back. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t do that.”
“It’s just over a mile, Mrs.Davies.” I rolled my eyes at the smile Dominic gave her; the one he probably thought was charming. “About the same as the walk to our old secondary school.”
“Hmm.” Mum’s lips thinned, but I could tell she was softening. Unlike me, she couldn’t see through Dominic’s bullshit. “Well, so long as you’re sensible, I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
