Chapter 5

“Um. S’okay. What’d you say?”

“Asked if you’d clocked any of the girls yet.”

“Clocked—sorry?”

Larimer laughed. “Who’re the fit girls in our class?” he translated, and Anton reddened.

“Not my thing,” he blurted out without thinking, and then red became purple as Larimer’s face lit up and he cackled.

“No way!”

“Lay off, Larimer, even a gayboy’d have more luck than you,” Jude retorted casually.

“I—I—”

“Hey, relax, s’cool,” Jude said, shrugging. “Long as you don’t fancy Will Thorne, that’s just fucking sick, man.”

Anton laughed weakly, his heart beating a rapid tattoo of relief under his ribs. “Not my type,” he said, even though he couldn’t be sure he knew which boy Thorne was.

“Hopefully, not anyone’s type,” Larimer said.

“Tell you what, mind, that Bee Lewis hasn’t got a gaydar,” Jude continued cheerfully, kicking a pebble into the road.

“What?” Anton said.

“She were staring at you all the way through English,” Jude grinned.