Chapter 2

Sometimes, it seemed like he was always chasing Luca. And it would suck, if not for—

“C’mere, you dick!”

―The fact he always caught him.

Luca laughed, that pale face lighting up as Tav snagged his elbow and spun him around. The slam into the tree was probably too hard, but his mouth was stretched wide in a smile against Tav’s, and his fingers dug grooves into shoulders.

“Bully.”

“I want my kiss right,” Tav breathed.

“Your what?”

He was teasing, and Tav had never worked out if Luca was hottest teasing or hottest doing. “My baci.” It was the only word Tav really knew.

“One bacio or more than one?”

“Many as I can get.”

“Which is…?”

“Baci.”

“Make me,” Luca whispered again, and Tav grinned.

“Okay.”

It was soft, despite Luca’s grip on his shoulders. It was warm, despite the cold. It was familiar, even though it still made Tav curl his toes inside his shoes and there was still that little fumble to get the right angle. It still made Luca hum just the way Tav liked best, and if Tav bit that bottom lip, Luca’s hands would start to creep up his neck to his hair.

“V’you.”

The whisper was nearly lost in the rustle of leaves overhead and the low drone of a helicopter somewhere in the slowly dissipating clouds. But Tav heard it anyway, and squeezed his hands at Luca’s sides before peeling himself away and beaming.

“Race you back.”

He bolted. Luca’s indignant, “Oi! Prick!” that followed him back down the slope was bellowed and raucous.

These were Tav’s favourite Saturdays in the world.

* * * *

“Eyup, Luca!”

Luca raised his hand in greeting, squashing the phone between his ear and his shoulder to accept Aaron’s offered hand-clasp-man-hug-thing. It had no name. It was just an Aaron Kowalski thing.

“Okay, okay. Yeah, I’ll get some at Wilko’s if you want. Okay? Okay. Baci, mamma, ciao.” He clicked off the phone. “Alright, Az?”

“Livin’,” Aaron said, and grinned. “Hey, I might need to ask a favour of you in a bit. For drama, like.”

“Okay?”

“Dunno yet. I’ll let you know. How’s you, anyway?”

“Fucking cold,” Luca complained as they wandered into Pond’s Forge. It was a vast leisure complex, with an Olympic-sized pool. Heeley was closer to the school and where the whole team lived, but Coach Cooper preferred the facilities at Pond’s Forge for training. “I swear this is Finland, not England.”

“We’re not all hothouse plants, you dago.”

“Shut your gob,” Luca said, shoving him in the shoulder. Aaron cackled. “Least I’m not coming over here and stealing jobs, you fucking Polack.”

“Oi! I’ve never worked a day in my life.”

“Nah, and it shows!”

Luca and Aaron went way back, but on a fairly superficial level these days. They’d gone to the same primary school and been best friends in Tadpoles, the under-eights swimming club. Then they’d grown up, Aaron had gotten into girls and acting and the stage, and Luca…hadn’t. They didn’t really see each other too much these days outside of the locker-based banter at school, and Pond’s Forge for the swimming team, but they were still mates.

Which meant getting all the racist banter out the way before Coach Cooper showed up and did his nut. Guy couldn’t take a joke, seriously.

“Your Tav not here?”

“Later. Your Emily?”

“Later,” Aaron echoed, then shrugged. “I dunno if she’ll be here, like, her nana’s up at the hospital. Looks like she’s on her way out.”

“Harsh.”

“I’m happy, mate! Ding dong the witch is dead and all that. Just got to put the face on for Emily, yeah?”

Luca sniggered as they passed into the changing rooms. A couple of the others were already there—David and Ryan, and a new kid who’d apparently come to live with his aunt and uncle in Totley—and hellos were exchanged before Luca said, “You sure you didn’t bump her off?”

“Nah, it’d give her too much satisfaction, she hates me.”

“What’s that?”

“Emily’s nana is gonna shuffle off the mortal coil.”

“Snuff it.”

“Peg it.”

“Kick the bucket.”

“Like that song in The Simpsons last night, you see it? About the tree and it got hit by lightning?”

Luca stripped off his shirt and let the hubbub wash around him. He loved swimming. He was okay at school, and Dad was big on getting him into university somewhere, but in all honesty, Luca just wanted to swim. He’d live in the water if he could. If he found a lamp, right, and there was a genie, he’d wish to become a fish. A shark-type fish, obviously, but a fish all the same. To get to swim around all the time and not have to come up for air, that would be awesome. Maybe he should go to university in Australia and just go diving all the time?

“Hey, Luca, you hear? Cooper’s decided we’re going in for the Edinburgh competition anyway. How’s your butterfly?”

“Stings like a bee,” Luca grinned, and got cuffed around the head by Aaron. “Lay off, you perv. Touching me up. I know I’m hot, you don’t have to boost my ego.”

It was met with general jeers, and the new kid smiled awkwardly, on the edge of the jokes. Luca had to respect him for his skills—guy could get up to a fucking phenomenal speed in the water—but he never said anything.