He nods, tucking the radio into his waistband, shirt falling to conceal it. His face is bright.
"I mean it, Liam." He looks too happy. When we're like this, we forget caution.
"Yes, Daddy, get off my back," he says, mocking, but the way he says it makes something shift inside me. I almost growl.
It takes everything to step away. We could be in real trouble, transferred, even, if anyone sees us. But as I move to collect the cleaning supplies, I can't stop glancing at him. The joy onhis face. The way he keeps touching his waistband, reassuring himself the radio is still there. I have to look away.
I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, counting breaths. Jack's, deep and even, a snore every fourth exhale. Harry's, quick and shallow, body curled toward the wall. Miles is so quiet it's almost imperceptible, but I've learned to listen for it over the years, reassuring myself he's still here. Liam's bunk is silent. He's awake. He usually is. Doesn't sleep well, doesn't eat properly. I don't know how he's made it this far.
A shadow falls across my bed. The mattress dips as he sits on the edge. I turn my head, his silhouette in the darkness, moonlight is catching the sharp angle of his jaw, the curve of his lips.
"Go back to your bunk, Liam," I whisper, but I'm chuckling, and he knows I don't mean it. My body is already shifting to make room.
"Fuck no," he answers. The radio appears in his hand. "I want to share this with you."
I lift the blanket. He slides under the covers. His body warm, small, pressing close in the narrow twin bed. The scent of him fills my senses.
He untangles the headphones. Places one earbud in my ear, the other in his. His finger presses down, and for a heart-stopping moment, nothing. Then a crackle of static, so loud in the silent room I flinch. He turns the volume down fast, fingers urgent on the dial, and giggles.
A voice emerges, tiny and distant, a late-night DJ announcing a song. Then music fills my ear.Everybody Wants to Rule the World, by Tears for Fears.It feels like pure magic. The beat makes everything look different, and I know I'm making a core memory. Just listening to this and looking at Liam. His eyes closed, listening with his whole body, the same expression he has when we kiss.
I'll never forget this.
"Thank you," he mouths beneath the music.
The song changes. Something slower. I don't recognize it. Liam shifts closer, his chest warm against my back, curled behind me. Our heads tilt together at an awkward angle to keep the shared earbuds from pulling. Beneath the blanket, his arm wraps around my waist, his hand finding mine, fingers lacing through.
Moonlight spills through the narrow window. Almost full. I think of Miles, counting lunar cycles, and something in my chest aches.
"I used to fall asleep to music every night," Liam whispers during a break between songs. "It's the thing I missed most. More than alcohol or weed, more than the skatepark, or freedom, even..." He chuckles. "More than McDonald's."
I chuckle too. I understand. More than I can say.
"What did you listen to?" I ask.
He smiles. "Everything. Alternative mostly. Stuff that made me feel something." He pauses, listening as a new song starts. "This one. I love this one.Parallel Universe, by Red Hot Chili Peppers."
It does feel like a parallel universe.
Chapter 21. Ethan
I can't stop watching his hands. Liam's fingers shuffle the cards with his bitten nails, his tiny tattoo on his right middle knuckle. The rest of the room doesn't exist. Harry's smug face, Jack's laughter, Miles' silence, all noise next to Liam. I've been staring at his hands too long. This is what it's come to: me, sitting cross-legged on the floor during Quiet Time, breaking at least three rules by allowing them to play forbidden cards instead of ‘thinking about our actions,’ transfixed by another boy's fingers.
"Deal already," Harry says, impatient as always. "Some of us want to actually play before Quiet Time ends."
Liam deals quickly, five cards sliding across the thin blanket we've laid on the floor to muffle the sound. Our makeshift poker chips form piles in front of each player: ramen flavor packets, cigarettes Harry smuggled in, candy, small personal items like a comb, pens, even a ring. Useless stuff. Just to play pretend.
My pile is pathetically small. I don't care about winning, which makes me a terrible poker player. I'm only here because Liam asked, his eyes bright with excitement, and I've lost the ability to tell him no. Not that I ever had it.
"I'll open," Harry says, pushing forward two cigarettes. That annoying smirk. "Two smokes."
Jack matches without hesitation. Miles considers his cards,then folds silently. Liam bites his lower lip and studies his hand. A strand of black hair falls across his forehead, and my fingers twitch with the urge to brush it back.
"Come on, fresh meat," Harry says. "In or out? Or is your allowance running low?"
"I'm in," Liam says, pushing forward two cigarettes from the small pile Harry gave him earlier. He doesn't smoke cigarettes, just wants to play, but I'm sure Harry will collect later. I hate that Harry's already dragged Liam into this. I hate that I'm sitting here allowing it.
Everyone's waiting for me. I glance at my cards. Garbage, as usual. I fold.
