Authors: HT Pantu
Trystan laughed. “You’re on loudspeaker, Jorja.”
“
…oh, crap! Shitting hell, I’m sorry, Trys, I didn’t…. I mean I kept my mouth shut and… bloody hell.
”
“That’s pretty mean, even for ye, Trys,” I added when Trystan left her panicking.
“
No,
Ide, I didn’t mean…. Wait, why aren’t ye freaking out?
”
“I already know,” I said at a normal volume, then waved for Trystan to continue because we were getting to a rare bit of dual carriageway and I wanted to overtake the retired tourists who were crawling round every corner at fifteen miles an hour.
“Look, Jorja, we’ll tell you about how and why later, but Ide was worried you’d work it out and say something in front of your mum and dad, and he doesn’t want them to know.”
“
Hold on; how and why what? How and why Ide knows ye like him and is okay with it? Or… wait…. I’d work it out? Work out wha… holy crap are you two… dating? No, no….
”
I could practically see her shaking her head as her forehead creased in confusion and she frantically pushed her fringe out of her eyes. Trystan was holding the phone out with a faintly amused look creasing his eyes as he let her witter on.
“
No, that’s impossible because Ide doesn’t date. So wait, are ye just putting up wi’ his whoring? Or… no ye wouldn’t. Would ye? No… no
fricking
way? Yer actually dating, aren’t ye? Yer Ide’s
fricking
boyfriend…?
” The predicted screeching occurred and the phone’s speaker could barely cope.
“
When the hell did this happen, Idrys! If ye dare tell me that it was longer than thirty seconds ago I swear I will tell Mum it was ye who replaced her scones wi’ shop-bought ones that time and make sure ye get no Yorkshires from now ’til Christmas.
”
Trystan was laughing and trying to stifle it as he watched me heave a weary sigh. “Ide is driving at the moment, Jorja, so he can’t defend himself. But it happened last weekend, and well, I’m sure if you think about it you can probably guess why neither of us would tell you straight off. So if you could find it in your heart to not mention anything in front of your parents, that would be great.”
“
Fricking hell, Trys, ye sure ye know what yer letting yerself in for?
”
“Still here, Jorja,” I piped up in the background. “And yer supposed to be on my side, not his.”
Jorja spluttered something under her breath that didn’t make it down the phone. “
Fine, I’ll keep schtum, but if ye two think yer getting out o’ explaining this shit t’ me, then ye have another thing coming. I need to go, drive safe.
”
“See you in forty minutes,” Trystan replied and hung up. Then he looked back round at me. “She’s an odd one, your sister.”
We pulled into the drive of my parents’ place fifty minutes later after getting stuck behind an out-of-season caravan for the final ten miles. I stopped the car halfway down the drive and turned to Trystan with a questioning look.
“So, this is it. If ye want to pull out, I’d probably say something now, because once we stop in that yard, yer—” I was cut off by a pair of lips pressing over mine, suckling at them, then prying them open so a tongue could force its way inside. I groaned and struggled against my seat belt as I tried to claw him closer. Then he was pulling away, leaving me slightly breathless and with a sudden perfect awareness of my blood and the heat it was pooling in my groin.
“This is going to be a long weekend,” Trystan said with a small sigh and just a touch of a smirk as he sat back in his chair.
I stared down at myself and wondered—not for the first time that week—when my body had been switched with a younger version of itself, the one that had got hard from a kiss.
“Can ye at least try and look less attractive or something for a couple o’ days, I dunno, don’t take a shower or wear some clown clothes?” I asked as I fired up the car and drove the last two hundred meters to my parents’ back door.
“Hmm, you saying you like the way I look?”
“Shut up, Trystan,” I muttered as I pulled the handbrake on, flicked off the ignition, and steeled myself for the upcoming mayhem.
“I don’t know why, but this really isn’t where I imagined you growing up,” Trystan said as I fished our bags out of the boot and tossed him his.
“What did ye imagine?” I asked as I watched him twisting round to examine the endless expanse of pitch-black nothingness that stretched out beyond the illuminated farmyard. There wasn’t a single other light visible in any direction; there wasn’t much of anything visible in any direction. Even when it was daytime, it was just rolling hills.
“More towny. You were so small and I know you were hard as nails, but I don’t know…. I just thought it might be a village at least.”
“I had t’ be hard as nails ’cause someone kept beating me up,” I replied and gave Trystan a level look over my shoulder. Trystan shot me a wolfish grin.
“Maybe it was like that stuff you hear about where you beat up the person you like.”
“No, Trys, ye were just a bully.” I let a smile quirk the corner of my lips as I pushed the back door open.
“I’m back,” I called as we came straight into the kitchen. I came to an awkward stop in the doorway and forced Trystan to step around me so he could get a look at the farm kitchen that currently smelled of the most amazing things.
My mum and dad greeted me, and I accepted and returned a hug and a gruff man-pat from each of them respectively, but I wasn’t concentrating. I was staring at Theo, who was sitting on the other side of the kitchen table with Tess at his feet. He had a glass of ale in one hand and one ankle slung over his other knee, and he was staring at me with a pissed-off look that was matched by the girl behind him. Clearly my sister had kept her promise not to tell our mum and dad, but I hadn’t been quite specific enough in my request.
“Oh, Trystan, I’m so glad ye could come. Idrys’s student house is so awful, and I know he doesn’t eat properly. How could he when he’s so skinny? I swear I’ve spent my life tryin’ t’ fatten the boy up. And I promised Samantha I would feed ye properly before I sent ye back.” My mum was wittering as she managed to give the impression that she was wrapping the man considerably larger than her in her arms. Then Trystan was treated to the same greeting as me from my dad, and I was left with having to introduce him to Theo.
“Hey, Theo,” I tried to pull a grin onto my face because I knew the gormless look I was currently sporting was going to lead to questions.
“Ide” was Theo’s monosyllabic response. And right then I honestly felt like having my parents know and Theo not would have been a better situation.
I
STOOD
just inside my parents’ quaint farmhouse kitchen with the cats dancing curiously around my ankles. Mum was still wittering things at me and Trystan that I didn’t, couldn’t, really pay much attention to. Jorja was glaring at me—that wasn’t much of a surprise. But honestly I wasn’t prepared for Theo. I’d been so focused on my parents not finding out that I had hardly given my best friend a second thought. Now that I finally did, I realized the mistake I’d made.
When had I ever thought that my best friend was going to take it well that I was dating a guy who’d bullied me for a large portion of my life?
“Ah, Theo, this is Trys.” I seriously wanted the ground to open up beneath me right then. “Trys, this is Theo.” I hoped I didn’t sound quite as shell-shocked as I felt as Theo stood and came round the table to shake Trystan’s hand. “He lives on the next farm over, we’ve been friends since—”
Trystan was shooting me a confused look, clearly wondering what the hell was going on because Theo practically stalked round the table and the look on his face was pure fury as I watched their hands clasp together.
“…since we were four.
Nice
t’ finally meet ye, Trys; I’ve heard a
lot
about ye.”
I saw the sudden flash of understanding in Trystan’s dark eyes, and his confusion switched to amusement—which did not help.
“Yer dad and I already ate, sorry, Ide love.” My mum seemed completely oblivious to the tension between Trystan and my best friend. “There’s a quiz on in the pub, yer welcome t’ come down when yer done, but we’re going t’ shoot off.” My mum smiled up at me and pressed a warm kiss against my cheek. “We’ll catch up properly tomorrow. The stew is in the warming oven wi’ some jackets. There’s plenty for ye as well, Theo, so feel free t’ stay.”
“I could do with a hand in the morning, if you don’t mind, Idrys,” my dad asked as he shrugged his jacket on.
“Sure, Dad, no problem.” I jumbled my words as I tried desperately to think of a way to get them to stay. They left anyway with an absent wave, and silence settled over the little kitchen while we waited for the sound of my parents’ 4x4 humming to life.
“Right.” I broke the silence—because it was ridiculous—and went round to the Aga to fish out the food—because I was hungry. “Trys, the fridge is on yer right. If I were ye I’d get some beers because we’re about t’ get an earful from this pair.”
I dropped a couple of spoonfuls of beef stew on top of a perfectly bronzed potato and slid it onto the table behind me. “I take it yer staying, Theo?” I added as I proceeded to set out three more.
“So.” I sat down and waved to a chair for Trystan to take a seat, and I looked pointedly between the two spare bowls of food. “Ye two going to preach on an empty stomach?” They sat down.
“Ye want me t’ tell ye what yer both going t’ say?” I asked as I finished my first mouthful. “Jorja, yer going t’ tell Trystan he shouldn’t trust me, and yer probably right. And, Theo, yer going t’ tell me I’m an idiot for seeing someone who ruined a large part o’ my childhood, and yer probably right.”
“Aren’t you just jealous?” Trystan smirked at Theo, and Theo bristled. I rolled my eyes because the idiot was not helping.
“I’m not gay. And if I was, ye think Ide would choose
ye
over me, dickhead?”
I couldn’t help but snigger at that because Trystan’s face had dropped and Theo was probably right: I didn’t fancy him and he didn’t fancy me, but if my best friend were gay, I’m almost certain we would have ended up together.
“Sorry, sorry,” I hurried because all three of them had glared at me when I laughed. “Theo is a bit right, though, sorry, Trys.”
If Trystan thought he could get a rise out of Theo by teasing him about his sexuality, he was sorely mistaken. Me and Theo have had many a conversation about the nature of each of our states of being—hetero versus homosexual—the first of which was probably when we were about eight and had no idea of the significance of what we were talking about.
“So what’s the problem?” Trystan said with a slightly toned-down version of his usual smirk. “You don’t fancy Ide, I do.”
“Ma problem ain’t whether ye fancy each other or not; it’s the fact yer a prick,” Theo growled. “And if I didn’t think so before, I’m certain now.”
Trystan laughed a little at that and turned to Jorja. “I’m not that bad, am I?”
Jorja gave an awkward little grimace, and I could see her warring with herself. “Well no, Trys, yer fine now, but ye
were
a bit of a twat t’ Ide when we were younger, and Theo is Ide’s best friend, so he knows all the shitty stuff Ide told him when we got back from our holidays.”
“So you’re judging me based on some stories from five years ago when we were all still kids?”
“Look,” I cut in before Theo could respond because Trystan was still not helping—I was just guessing but I imagined that Theo did not find Trystan’s smirk sexy enough to distract him from the smug tone beneath his words. “Trys is a bit of a dick, I’m not denying that, but seriously, Theo, I’m not exactly going t’ be winning any awards anytime soon, so… can’t ye just be happy that ye won’t have t’ tell me off for sleeping around?”
“Well that’s ma point exactly,” Jorja piped up and I rolled my eyes; this was like some twisted version of tag-team wrestling. “Are ye telling me that yer’ve gone from sleeping with like ten people a week straight to dating?”
I tutted. “Jorja, I haven’t been that bad for
years
. It’s only been three or four recently.” I stuck my tongue out at her bristling rage, but she’d turned her eyes to Trystan. She was looking at him with a mixture of pity and disbelief.
“I know people think my brother is hot, everyone does, for frick’s sake, but come on? I’m sorry, Ide”—she flashed a look in my direction—“but ye don’t need t’ put up wi’ that shit, Trys.”
I laughed at her softly, and my dismissal of what she’d said pulled a look of annoyance and guilt onto her face.
“Honestly, Jorja, I get what yer saying,” I said softly with my head cocked to one side. “But as ye seem so desperate for details: I haven’t slept wi’ anyone other than Trys here for over a month….”
That definitely shut her up.
“A month?” she clarified after quite a long time of staring at me like I was a stranger.
“Five weeks,” Trystan added—trust him to count.
“How d’ye know?” my sister asked, her doubt still evident.
“Because I shared a bed with him for the first week of it, and now I live next to the front door….”
Jorja looked between us, then leaned across the table, staring at me. Her head was cocked to one side, and she was inspecting me like I was a particularly curious and exotic animal.
“Yer not actually shitting wi’ me, are ye?” I shook my head. “This t’ do wi’ what that piece o’ shit housemate did t’ ye?”
“He stopped before that,” Trystan cut in before I could say anything. My sister slumped back in her seat, her face going slack as she turned her astonishment onto Trystan.
“Yer a fricking miracle worker, shitting hell, Trys.” Jorja shrugged and sat forward to start on her food. “Fine then, ye have my approval. Just dun come running t’ me when he goes back t’ how he was.”
“Jorja,” Theo admonished as he turned to my sister with a look that said he definitely did not agree with her sudden approval.