I Hate Summer (20 page)

She looked like I’d just broken her heart as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

“Oh, Idrys, love; what’s wrong?”

She bundled me out of the car—a feat because she was only five four—and then I was being sat at the kitchen table. The kitchen smelt of yeast and cats and wellington boots. Mum had washed her hands and made tea and she silently pressed a cup into my hands and went back to her bread. She let me sit in silence while she finished, simply glancing over at me with a soft smile every now and again. When she had slid the raw dough into the Aga, she pulled out a chair to sit next to me, and then she waited patiently while the smell of fresh bread overpowered everything else.

“Is Jorja home this weekend?” I asked when I was sure my voice wouldn’t break.

“No, love; want me to call her?”

I shook my head, because I needed to sort out whatever had happened between me and my sister. But I didn’t want to see her quite yet. “I’ll call her in the morning.”

“Good; she’s missed ye.”

“I’m sorry, Mam—” My voice cracked as I dropped my head, and I fought to hold back the wash of pressure that was mounting an assault upon my face, threatening to overwhelm two weeks of keeping myself together and send all my control spilling down my cheeks.

“Shit, I fricking mess up everything.” I dropped my mug clumsily onto the table to hide my face in my hands, as demons I thought I had laid to rest surged up through my chest. “I’m really sorry. Why couldn’t I just be normal and make everyone’s life easier?”

“Oh, Idrys, what’s happened?” She shuffled forward and pulled me into an awkward hug. “Yer dad and I dun want ye to be normal; have we ever said we dun love ye just the way ye are?”

“But—” I tried to speak but she wouldn’t let me.

“No! No buts! Ye are jus’ fine, and if something’s gone on, then it’s nae yer fault, so dun yer go blaming yerself. People’re idiots, jealous idiots, ’cause ye have what they think they want, and they think it’s easy. Well ye jus’ ignore them, dun ye dare let them get ye down. Okay?”

I took a slow breath as I pressed my forehead against my mum’s shoulder. The air that filled my lungs smelled of her, and the feelings she embraced me with were warm and unconditional. She ran a hand through my hair, soothing me as she hummed something soft and tuneless. There were so few people in my life who wanted nothing from me, who could live beside me and remain unfazed by jealousy or untwisted by coveting me. It was a sad state of affairs, and maybe it sounds conceited, but honestly, I wish it was just in my head. I was used to dealing with it, I had dealt with it all my life, but right then I hated it again. I hated the way I looked and the way people looked at me.

But my mum’s arms around my shoulders, her hands gently rubbing my head, her humming filling my ears and the cats dancing for attention around our ankles, all of it allowed me to slip away from the self-hatred.

“So it would be someone else’s fault if I’d robbed a store?” I managed to laugh through the pressure in my chest.

“Why ye…,” she growled affectionately, then pushed me to arm’s length as a loving smile curled her weathered but beautiful face. A timer went and she tittered. “I swear yer homin’ device only activates when I’ve been baking,” she said as she got up to pull a tray of perfect bread rolls out of the Aga. She gave one an experimental tap, and satisfied with the sound it returned, she tipped them gently onto a wire cooling tray. She squeaked as she picked one up, tossing it between her hands before she dropped it onto the table next to me, then proceeded to fish out butter and find a knife from the drying rack.

“Just dun tell yer dad,” she said with a grin as she broke apart the still burning hot bread roll and proceeded to butter half before offering it to me.

“Thanks, Mam.” The bread was almost hot enough to scald my lips, but it was the nicest thing I’d tasted in months. For the first time in two weeks, I felt a genuine smile slip over my face.

T
HE
NEXT
morning I woke up to help my dad with the chores. He didn’t ask me why I was home because he was a “you’ll feel better after a hard day’s work” kind of guy rather than a “talk it out” kind. Which was fine with me. Because my dad was fine with me being gay, but I wasn’t sure I was fine with him knowing I’d been almost raped. I wasn’t fine with anyone knowing, so when we were done with the early morning stuff and it was a reasonable time to call my sister, I sat in the kitchen and stared at my phone with a growing sense of dread.

I knew she’d been talking to Trystan; he’d said as much last night. I wondered how much he’d told her.

“Idrys?” she answered breathlessly before the first ring had even finished. So Mum must have told her I was home and was planning to call.

“Hey, Jorja,” I said just because I couldn’t think of anything else. It had been almost four months since I’d spoken to her. We’d never gone that long before. Our arguments generally lasted a couple of weeks at most, but usually no more than a couple of hours.

“Oh my God, Ide, I’m so sorry about being a bitch over the whole Scotland thing. I know what yer like, but sometimes yer just so stupid that ye come across as arrogant, and I’m sorry for suggesting Trystan call ye even though I know ye hate him because ye hate straight guys crushing on ye, but he’s….”

“Jorja, shush; I don’t hate Trystan.”

“Ye don’t?”

I sighed because I didn’t know what I thought about Trystan anymore.

He’d saved me.

He’d looked after me.

Since that night he had been careful not to touch me, and his brown eyes had held nothing but concern.

I didn’t want to think about Trystan.

“I’m still not sure I’m his biggest fan. But I don’t hate him.” My voice was embarrassingly hesitant but that was the best I could manage at the moment.

“What happened, Ide?” she whispered. “Trys wouldn’t tell me, but I know there were police involved.”

“It doesn’t matter, Jorja.”

“It does to me.”

I stared out of the window at what should have been a drab autumn day, but it was made beautiful by the rainbow of reds and oranges and browns. One of the cats came into the kitchen. It gave a cursory mew and jumped onto my lap, giving me little choice in the matter as it curled up and pushed its head under my hand.

“Just another straight-guy incident,” I said as I concentrated on the cat instead of the memory. And the distorted gasp at the back of Jorja’s throat let me know that she knew exactly what I meant. I heard a muted sob rattle down the line.

“Oh my God, Ide, fucking hell, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for ye.”

“It’s fine, nothing happened, Trys stopped him, so….” I sighed as I realized what a truly ungrateful prick I had been last night. “Please don’t tell Mum and Dad. The first time was hard enough on them.”

I could tell she didn’t want to, but she agreed eventually.

“How did he get into yer room?” she asked quietly when she had collected herself together.

“I was sleeping on the couch. I’d lent the room to Trys because he’d picked up a girl,” I explained slowly. Talking about it wasn’t as bad as I had expected; the explanation just slipped out like I was talking about any old thing. I let my fingers caress the cat on my knee, and it purred gently in my lap. I realized both me and my sister had been silent for a while. “Jorja?”

“Sorry, I’m here; that surprised me, were all. I thought Trys was still….”

“Well, I don’t think he would have unless I’d offered, but I did, so… anyway, it was fine.” I tried to lighten my tone. “He got his lay and to be a white-fricking-knight, and I’m just a bit shaken.” Which was an understatement and little unfair on Trystan, but Jorja managed a soft chuckle down the line.

But I
was
messed up. I felt better right now surrounded by the familiarity of home, but just like the time in the bar toilet, the experience had changed me. Last time it had put me on the path to the strange group relationship I was now part of with Dan and Ashlie and Echo and all the others that drifted in and out of our core group. And this time I wasn’t sure what would happen, but I was certain I wouldn’t be able to go back to how I’d been.

“So Trys is living wi’ ye now?” she asked eventually, and I muttered confirmation down the phone. “And ye guys are okay?”

“Kind of. We were up until the shit with James… but I’ve been a bit of a tosser lately.”

Jorja chuckled, although I could still hear the edge of sadness in her voice. “Well, yer usually a dickhead, and that doesn’t seem to have made much o’ a difference so far….” She hesitated as if she wanted to say more; then with a sigh she changed topics. “I’m coming home in a fortnight, ye going to be there?”

“Yeah, I’ll come.” In the yard I heard the distinctive sound of a battered old Jeep, and a smile touched my lips. “Theo’s here, so I’m going to go. Love ye, Jorja, and I’m sorry too: for being an idiot and a dick and everything else.”

She giggled. “Love ye too, see ye soon.”

I hung up as Theo called an absent, “Knock, knock…?” through the open kitchen door as he paused to take his wellies off. I don’t know why he bothered because his dog rushed straight in with her paws covered in the same mud and jumped on my chest. The cat on my lap gave Tess a haughty look as I pushed the dog back to the floor.

“Heya, Tess.” I ruffled the collie’s head affectionately.

“Decided t’ finally grace us wi’ yer presence then, did ye, city boy? And ta very much for letting me know ye were back,” Theo grumbled as he ignored the cat and tugged me to my feet and into a one-armed hug.

“Sorry, Theo, it was kinda unplanned,” I answered honestly as my oldest friend pulled away, rolled his eyes, and set about making himself a brew.

“I thought it must be as Jorja ain’t here.” There was a note of weariness to his tone, and I felt a pang of resentment for my sister that she was still stringing the poor guy along. Maybe I didn’t have the best attitude toward relationships, but at least I always made my intentions clear so nobody got hurt.

I’d had a crush on Theo when I was younger. The kind of crush you have when you’re so young that you don’t really understand what husband and wife—or husband and husband in my case—really meant. Back when “gay” was an insult you used because you didn’t quite dare to say “shit” for fear of your parents hearing. But nothing had ever come of it; I’d got over it by the time I realized I was gay, and I could honestly say that Theo was one of the only straight guys who I have never caught looking at me with curiosity.

“Ye two kissed and made up yet?” he asked as he dropped a mug of tea on the table next to me and took a seat.

“I just got off the phone to her; so, hopefully.”

“Good, she sulks when ye two aren’t speaking; and it’s been bloody ages,” Theo said with a wry chuckle. “So what’s been up? Yer dad showed me some modeling photos tha’ I wish I could erase from ma memory.”

I groaned. “That man needs his head checking, seriously. But I haven’t been up to much, to be honest.”

“Tha’ southern dick found himself a new place yet? I still can’t believe he had the cheek t’ ask ye in the first place.”

I gave a weary chuckle. “Funny story: he’s living in my house share these days.”

“Yer shitting me?”

“Nope, someone had to move out, we couldn’t afford to be fussy, and I was outvoted.” Which was mostly the truth. It had been Matt who suggested Trystan take the room, and although Trystan had been reluctant because I was so against it, he still said yes. But at least I had my bed to myself again.

Which was definitely a good thing. Because I definitely didn’t miss having anyone in my bed. Definitely.

“Ye had any more trouble?”

“Honestly, Trys is a pain, but he’s better than the last guy, so….” I gave a small shrug. Thinking about James still caused a ripple of tension across my chest, but it wasn’t so bad that I thought I couldn’t breathe anymore, and I’d got over worse in the past.

“Oh dun ye listen to Idrys, Theo; Trystan’s a lovely boy,” my mum chimed as she came through the kitchen door with a basket of eggs under one arm.

I caught Theo’s eye and rolled mine, letting him know what I thought about that without having to actually contradict my mum.

“I’m just about t’ make a bit o’ lunch, love; ye staying?” my mum asked Theo as she bustled around the kitchen.

“Aye, if ye dun mind, that would be lovely, ta,” Theo said bashfully, and I grinned because suddenly it was just like we were twelve again and we’d been discovered scaring the chickens.

When we’d eaten I went back with Theo to his farm and helped him with his evening duties—well, I did most of everything to prove I still could and Theo mocked me. Then we drove to the local pub in Theo’s Jeep and sat in the corner with Tess at our feet as a stream of locals came over to say “Hi” to Theo while they gazed curiously at me as if I were an exotic animal. It was just like old times, except with pints instead of juice and a Jeep instead of bikes.

The next day I ate my body weight in roast dinner—by the time I got in the car to drive home I was really wishing I hadn’t had a second helping of blackberry and apple pie. Mum gave me a hug; my dad muttered something I couldn’t quite hear and patted me on the back—the closest to a hug he could manage. And then I pulled out of the drive and even though it was almost two hours back to York, I was feeling really okay for the first time in a while.

It was eight o’clock by the time I got up to my room on Sunday evening. It was just how I’d left it. The notes for the essay I’d been struggling with were still next to my laptop that had managed to shut itself down at least. The essay was due in on Tuesday, and thanks to me having done nothing on it over the weekend I was probably going to have to sort it out tonight. I found I didn’t really mind. I went downstairs to make myself something to drink and was glad that everyone’s doors were closed. I felt like I could face them again now, but I didn’t particularly want to.

There was a knock at my door around nine. And I looked round absently for a moment. Penny, Matt, and Jason rarely came up to my room, and even after everything that had happened Trystan tended to forget that this wasn’t his room anymore and usually walked straight in. I heard feet shuffling away on the other side.