“Fucking hell, Charlie. Your heart’s going mental.”
Jess’s startled exclamation made Leo jump. He stepped closer and took Charlie’s wrist. Sure enough, his pulse was racing. “We should go home.”
“Really?” Jess shifted uneasily. “Reg will go nuts. He’ll probably call the old bill or something.”
“It’s okay.” Leo pulled out his phone, retrieved one of only five contacts stored on it, and tapped out an SOS. “I know what to do.”
It took some negotiating, but eventually, Leo managed to persuade the girls to let him take Charlie home. Charlie drifted beside him as Leo steered him through town. He seemed happy enough—more than happy—but Leo knew the effects of X well enough to know things could go wrong at any moment. What if the pills Charlie had taken weren’t X at all? What if they’d been cut with weed killer or some shit? Leo’s veins boiled with rage for the fuck-face who’d given Charlie the drugs, but his anger felt like nothing compared to the real fear that Charlie was about to drop dead.
“I love having you as my brother.” Charlie stopped walking and turned to Leo with a soft, loopy grin. “You probably hate me because I tried to snog you, but I do love you.”
Leo swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in his throat. “I don’t hate you. Why would you think that?”
“’Cause you hate everyone, don’t you? And, ya know, I did try and snog you and . . .”
“And?”
Charlie shrugged. “Dunno. I wanted to kiss you, though. I do that, with boys . . . I want to kiss them, instead of girls.”
Leo’s own heart quickened. “You like boys?”
“Yes.” Charlie stared at Leo for a long moment, like he was waiting for Leo to say something—anything—but his attention was abruptly diverted before Leo found the words to tell him he wasn’t alone in the world. “Ooh, Leo, look. The Christmas lights are still on the market cross. Let’s go see.”
He darted away before Leo could stop him. Leo caught up to him by the stone steps that led to the focal point of Heyton’s old high street. “Nah, no way. You’re not climbing up there in this state. You’ll break your bloody neck.”
“But I want to see the lights,” Charlie protested. He tried to free himself from Leo’s restraining grip, but Leo held firm.
“There’s no lights up there. You’re tripping.”
“Tripping? Oh, I get it. I like tripping.”
Charlie stopped struggling and leaned against Leo. He was warm, like the open fire in the living room back in Swindon. “Come on,” Leo said. “We need to go home.”
Neither of them moved. Charlie’s heartbeat thudded wildly against Leo’s chest, and Leo’s own pulse sped up, like it was chasing Charlie’s. He sucked in a breath. His mouth was dry, and the memory of Charlie’s lips on his hit him like a truck. “It’s okay, Charlie.”
“What is?” Charlie turned his head and stared at Leo, his usually keen gaze clouded by whatever chemicals were wreaking havoc in his blood. “You look all serious. I hate it when you look like that.”
“Why?”
Charlie shrugged. “’Cause I know you hate it too.”
“Fair enough.” Leo forced himself to step away. “Come on. I mean it this time. We need to get home.”
The rest of the walk was thankfully uneventful. Charlie’s fascination with his surroundings faded, and by the time Fliss met them at the back door, he seemed more bewildered than anything else.
“For fuck’s sake,” Fliss said. “What the hell did he take?”
“Dunno. I wasn’t there.”
Fliss shot Leo a disbelieving glance as she guided Charlie into the house. “Yeah? So you didn’t give him the pills?”
“Why would I do that and then text you for help? Sneak him in myself then, wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know why you texted me at all. I’m not exactly a drugs guru.”
Leo said nothing. He’d reached out to Fliss because he was scared shitless, and his gut had told him that she could help. There was no rhyme or reason, and he didn’t much care if anyone thought he was a dirty drugs pusher . . . right?
Bullshit. If Reg gets wind of this, he’ll kick you out for sure.
Panic surged in Leo’s chest. Fliss shook him. “Leo.”
“What, what?”
Fliss glared, like she’d growled his name more than once. “Go and get some bananas from the dining room, and be quiet. Mum and Dad are watching TV in their room.”
“Bananas?”
“Trust me.” Fliss eyed Charlie, who was staring at the photos on the fridge door, singing to himself, and swaying like he didn’t have a care in the world. “If we want him to sleep anytime before next Tuesday, he needs vitamins. Besides, have you got any better ideas?”
Leo fetched the bananas from the fruit bowl in the next room. When he got back, he was surprised to find Fliss and Charlie standing together by the kitchen window, arms around each other, like they really were siblings, instead of two people who simply lived in the same house.
“You’re an idiot,” Fliss said. “How many times have I told you not to take drugs?”
Charlie’s grin was loopy. “I like drugs. They’re fun.”
“Won’t be fun in the morning when your insides feel like sandpaper. Here, eat this, and drink some water. If your teeth stop chattering, I’ll let you go to bed when you’re done.” Fliss handed Charlie one of Leo’s retrieved bananas and filled a pint glass with water. Then, while Charlie did as he was told, she beckoned Leo to the kitchen doorway. “I think he’s fine. If he was going to freak out or OD, he’d have done it by now. You’ll need to keep him quiet, though, at least until the morning. Mum and Dad are taking Lila to Aunt Sal’s first thing. They’ll probably leave you two to sleep in, but keep an ear out, just in case. They can spot this shit a mile off.”
Leo wondered how Fliss knew so much about drugs. He’d seen her stagger home from a night out with her mates more than once, but nothing to suggest that she caned anything harder than vodka. “You’re sure he’s okay?”
“As sure as I can be. I, uh . . .”
“What?”
Fliss shrugged. “I don’t get it. Charlie’s a good boy, you know? And he doesn’t give a shit about impressing anyone. He didn’t do this to look cool in front of his mates, so I reckon something happened to piss him off. Any ideas?”
Leo felt sick, but before he could answer, Charlie appeared beside him, eyes bright and slightly more focussed than they’d been since Leo had found him curled up on the ground. “Don’t nag Leo, Fliss. He hates me already ’cause I kissed him.”
Heat flooded Leo’s cheeks, and the nausea tickling his belly got hotter and hotter until he felt like he would surely puke all over the weathered wood floor. But Fliss only shook her head and closed her eyes briefly. “I don’t want to know what you two get up to in your spare time. Just don’t get caught, okay? I can’t be arsed with the drama. Now go to bed, the pair of you, and don’t wake me up unless one of you is dying.”
Fliss left them to it. Leo watched her go with an odd combination of relief and panic. Charlie called her a crazy bitch every other day, but Leo saw how strong she was, fearless and brave. Saw it in her eyes, in the steely glare that too often hid her kindest smile.
“Leeeooo.” Charlie tapped Leo on the shoulder. “You’re staring again. Come on. Fliss said we had to go to bed.”
“Since when do you do what she tells you?” Leo shrugged away and headed for the stairs, then thought better of it and tugged Charlie in front of him. “Hold on to the banister.”
“It’s pink.”
Leo sighed. “If you say so. Just get upstairs. And do it quietly. I’m not hiding you from Reg.”
The mention of Reg seemed to sober Charlie. He made his way upstairs and slipped into his bedroom without another sound. Leo followed him and shut the door behind them. The room was dark and cold. He flicked the light on, and Charlie turned towards him and smiled, and suddenly, the room felt like a summer’s day.
Damn, that bloody smile.
Leo sat on the floor. Charlie appeared to be coming down from whatever crap he’d swallowed, but Leo was under no illusions that either of them would be sleeping anytime soon. He watched with heavy eyes as Charlie rummaged around under his bed, digging out piles of sketchbooks and pens. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for something.”
“I figured that. What are you looking for?”
Charlie didn’t answer, apparently distracted by a battered shoe box Leo had never seen before. He untied the string around it and took the lid off with more care than his jittery limbs should’ve allowed.
“Who’s in the pictures?” Leo leaned forward, curious, in spite of the very real urge to curl up and sleep for a week.
Charlie held up a yellowed Polaroid. “Dunno. It could be my mum, or an aunt, maybe. What do you think?”
Leo squinted at the photograph. The young woman had long dark hair and deep brown eyes—Charlie’s eyes. Mother or not, they shared blood. “You look like her. Where did you get these from?”
“The orphanage closed down a few years ago. One of the missionary workers sent a box of stuff to Kate. Not sure any of it’s really mine, though. Could be anyone’s.”
“She doesn’t look like just anyone.”
“Whatever.” Charlie shrugged in a way that made Leo feel like he was staring at his own reflection, until Charlie’s pensive frown cleared as though it had never been there at all. He rummaged in the box again, and then grinned manically as he retrieved two colourful beaded bracelets. “Oh, hey. I’d forgotten about these.”
Leo snagged a bracelet and turned it over in his hands. “Nice.”
“Yeah?” Charlie jammed the lid on the shoe box and shoved it under his bed. “Have it, then. Make up for me chewing your face off earlier.”
Charlie left the room before Leo found a coherent response. He clattered around in the bathroom before returning in a pair of pyjama bottoms that looked suspiciously like he’d fished them out of the washing basket, no T-shirt, and the remaining bracelet around his left wrist. He didn’t glance Leo’s way as he drifted to his bed and sat down. Leo wondered what he was thinking. Wished he’d tell him, and then felt horrified that he might.
What are you so scared of?
Leo honestly didn’t know. “Do you think you can sleep?”
“Hmm?” Charlie tore his gaze from the wall. “Um, maybe, if the wall stops dancing. What about you? You’ve still got your jeans on.”
“So?”
“Why do you wear so many clothes in bed?”
In case I have to get up and run. “‘Because it’s winter and this house is fucking freezing.”
“No, it’s not. Mum leaves the heating on twenty-four hours a day ’cause she hates the thought of any of us feeling cold.”
“Whatever.” Yearning for his own bed, Leo cast a longing glance at the open door, then crawled across the room and took Charlie’s wrist. “You don’t seem as trashed now.”
Charlie sniggered. “Must be the magic bananas.”
“Magic something.” Leo released Charlie’s wrist, satisfied his pulse had slowed enough for Leo to leave him—
“Are you going to move out?”
Leo jumped. He hadn’t noticed Charlie casually invading his personal space. “What?”
“You know, to escape the gay boy.”
“Gay boy?” Leo laughed, couldn’t help it. “What good would that do?”
Charlie flinched. “You don’t have to be a dick about it. I said I was sorry.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry.” Leo turned away.
Charlie caught his face in his heated palm. “Why?”
“Because—” Leo stopped, the words he’d never uttered aloud stuck in his throat. “Because I liked it, all right? I liked you kissing me, because I like what you like . . . I like you, and I like boys, but I don’t want to talk about it. I want you to be okay, and I want to sleep, and I can’t—”
Charlie silenced Leo with a kiss that was very different from that first tentative brush of lips in the park. Those kisses had felt like ghosts. A whisper of something neither of them quite understood. And Charlie hadn’t touched him then, hadn’t pulled him close, or grazed his cheek with his electric fingertips.
But he did those things now, and enveloped Leo in a tight embrace, holding him so fiercely that Leo had never felt safer, even before Dennis had drunk the devil into all of them.
For a long, dizzying moment, Leo stood stock-still, frozen in the fire of Charlie’s kiss, then he snapped, broke free, and pushed Charlie onto his bed, kissing him back so hard their teeth clashed.
Charlie grunted and pulled back, though he kept his arms around Leo. “Oops.”
“Yeah.” Leo sucked in a harsh breath. Damn. How had they gone from a tipsy night out at the park, to snogging on Charlie’s bed? Did it even matter? With Charlie wrapped around him, warming him, inside and out, Leo couldn’t find the will to care.
“You’re shivering.” Charlie suddenly scooted back. “Get under the duvet.”
In the blink of a bleary eye, Leo found himself in Charlie’s bed, curled up on his side, his legs tangled with Charlie’s and his head on his chest. He opened his mouth, shut it again, and then yawned so hard his jaw cracked. “I’m so fucking tired.”
“I know, Leo. Go to sleep. I’ll protect you. I promise.”
Charlie woke to a groan that sounded like it came from a dying animal. He blinked and peeled his tongue from the roof of his mouth. Shit, was that me? A glance at Leo sleeping beside him confirmed that it must have—
Whoa.
He looked down again and registered the warmth of Leo’s body seeping into his own.
What the fuck?
The events of the night before slammed into his brain—the kiss, the pills, neon lights, and more kissing—
Oh my God.
Charlie flushed. He’d kissed Leo. He’d taken drugs—dirty bloody street drugs. And he’d kissed Leo. Multiple times, at intervals he couldn’t quite remember.
Oh. My. God.
Charlie licked his lips. They were cracked and sore, like he’d chewed on them all night, and mortification washed over him. How trashed must he have been for Leo to get into bed with him? His brain was scrambled and out of order—sketchy memories fused with recollections that couldn’t be real—but he remembered Leo’s gaze following his every move, staring at him like he was a ticking bomb. Remembered Leo’s guiding hands, warm on his back, his arm, his wrists.
And Charlie remembered the heat in Leo’s eyes when he’d admitted that he liked kissing Charlie.
Footsteps on the stairs startled Charlie out of his hazy reverie. The light tread sounded like Kate.
Shit.
Charlie scrambled out of bed and darted across the landing. He dove under Leo’s duvet just as Kate reached the doorway.
Kate blinked and glanced out into the hallway, clearly checking Charlie’s room. “What are you doing in here?”
“We swapped for a joke.”
“What joke?”
“Um . . .”
“Never mind.” Kate looked over her shoulder again. “What time did you go to sleep? Lila wants to say good-bye before we go to Aunt Sal’s, but I don’t want to wake Leo if you had a late night.”
“It wasn’t too late. Half ten, maybe?” Charlie said, though in truth he had no idea what time he’d gone to sleep. In fact, he couldn’t remember sleeping at all. Only lying in bed with Leo, holding him close, and wishing he could chase the darkness from his eyes.
“Charlie?”
“Hmm?”
Kate frowned. “Are you all right? You’re a bit pale.”
“I’m fine.”
“Well, you don’t seem it. Listen, your father and I like to trust you to put yourselves to bed at a reasonable hour at the weekends, but we’re not idiots. If you’re going to start staying up all night playing Xbox or whatever it is you boys do, we’ll have to impose a bed
time.”
Charlie thought about scoffing, but Kate’s glare kept him quiet, along with Reg’s dire warning about what would happen if Leo’s behaviour became too disruptive. Quick. Think of something she likes. “Leo played football in the park. He’s probably tired from that.”
Kate’s expression brightened. “Oh that’s nice. We were hoping he’d start playing again now his arm is a little better. Anyway, we’re off to Aunt Sal’s for the day. I’ve left cold pizzas and salad downstairs for lunch. Try and amuse yourselves without making a mess, okay? We’ll be back around six.”
Kate left. Charlie pushed aside the guilt that came with his white lie and waited for the front door to slam, and then the car to roll off the drive before he hauled himself out of Leo’s bed and went back to his room. He retrieved his phone from the tangled pile of clothes on the floor. Twenty messages from Jess and Lucy greeted him. He fired off a couple of replies, reassuring them he wasn’t dead, then shuffled to the bathroom to make a half-hearted attempt to clean himself up.
Taking a shower felt like a mountain he couldn’t climb, so he settled for taking a leak and brushing his teeth, and then scrutinising the cracked skin on his lips and the dark circles under his eyes. Damn, he was a bloody mess after just one mad night. No wonder junkies looked so utterly ruined.
He drifted back to his bedroom with heavy legs. Leo hadn’t moved an inch. Charlie considered him, and then the empty bed across the landing. He shivered, remembering the warmth of Leo pressed against him, and before he knew it, found himself sliding back into his own bed.
Couldn’t quite find the nerve to snuggle into Leo again, though. Instead, he snagged his headphones from his bedside table and found a crap film on Netflix to doze to while he waited for Leo to wake up.
He was on his second film by the time Leo finally rolled over and tucked his bad arm close to his chest, grimacing as he opened his eyes.
Charlie pulled his headphones out. “All right?”
Leo rubbed his face. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
Finding Home Page 9
