Chapter 8

They’d been thirteen years old. And that was how it had begun—as friends, before boyfriends

They were seventeen now, and nearly three years into this whole boyfriends thing, and it meant Tav was hyperaware of people coming and going from the house directly across the street. When the car door slammed at half past ten in the morning, he was up out of bed in a heartbeat. When he looked out and saw Luca’s dad hefting a bag out of the boot, and Luca being helped in through the front door by Antonio, Tav left the bed entirely and bolted into the bathroom.

Luca was home. And Tav had had the worst’s night sleep ever.

* * * *

Luca felt fine.

Well, no, he didn’t, he felt like someone had parked a lorry on his chest and slapped him in the face with a Mini Cooper. But he felt pretty good apart from that. No, you know, not-breathing stuff or lung infection crap or anything. He kind of just wanted some snacks and a video game or three. Some peace and quiet, you know?