Gangs and Roses

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

I remembered when Connor came round, I'd told him I'd be at his house with his stuff the next day. I'd completely forgotten about that. So the next week, I found myself standing at the entrance to his flat, holding his box of clothes in my arms. I prayed that he would be in. Of course he would be in. He was that kind of guy who only ever went out at night to party and drink booze. All had happened over the past week so I wasn't sure whether I wanted to speak to Connor anyway. I mostly certainly didn't want to have a conversation with him that lasted more than a minute. Connor was my past. I wanted to give him his stuff back and just walk away.  

Sam's funeral had been just a couple of days. I wanted to block it out of my mind, though life had taught me that that was never the best option. I'd blocked out my Mum from my mind, ever since I moved out when I was eighteen. Then I realized just how important was when she was the victim of Harry's games. Seb hadn't gone to Sam's funeral. He couldn't. No-one would let him even if he wanted to; which he didn't. He didn't get out of bed that day. He spent a solid twenty-four hours with a pillow over his head, blocking it out of his mind. Every day he reminds everyone that it was an accident. But no-one believes him, no matter how angry or frustrated he got. I'd already made a decision with myself to never forgive him.  

I wasn't invited to Peter's funeral. It wasn't until after Christmas anyway. After we'd run away from the explosion, we'd made sure to stay in the shadows about everything. So we didn't reveal ourselves as Peter's friends to his families, as that was sure to reek questions. So instead, we'd said our own goodbyes in the back garden under the stars, wishing he was heaven even though none of us believed in God.  

On the bright side though, Will and I were now together. Not official but practically official. We'd gone out together almost every night; just doing couple-y things. We strolled in the parks, went shopping together, - despite Will's hatred for retail therapy - drank coffee in Cafés and danced in nightclubs until the early hours of the morning. Luke, Seb and Mum soon caught on that we were dating but it wasn't a big thing. Thankfully, it wasn't a big thing. There were other things to be organizing and worrying about. And there didn't seem to be a hint of jealousy in the air.  

There was no doorbell at the entrance to Connor's flat so I had to knock hard with my knuckles, balancing the box on one hand. I heard shuffling footsteps on the other side of the door and a key turning in a lock. A very lazy looking Connor answered the door, wearing a grubby vest top and the same joggers he'd worn when he'd visited my house. His blonde hair was ruffled. Dirt lay under his fingernails. The familiar musky smell of his flat wafted up my nostrils, reminding me of the nights I'd spent there.  

"Hey," Connor said, leaning against the doorframe. He took one look at the box bundled in my arms and instantly knew what I was doing here.  

"I have your stuff," I said, thrusting it in his arms. "And no, I did not spend countless nights wearing the T-shirts and underwear, thinking of you. They're not washed either so they're pretty gross."  

Connor smiled, glancing down at the box's contents. The only cardboard I could find the house was this one. It didn't have a lid so all his stuff was on view for the whole world to see. Buried beneath my comics drawings, I'd found a picture of him I'd drawn when we'd first gone out. I'd drawn him slouching on the couch, casually watching telly in his apartment. I'd also found me and Sam's comic too. It wasn't finished so I'd already told myself that my New Year's resolution would be to complete it.  

"I remember when you used say that kind of thing all the time," Connor said, giving me a half-smile. He was referring to my sarcasm, the sarcasm that I used to be fluent in.  

"Hmm," I said, not even cracking a smile. "I've changed since then. I've grown up."  

Connor raised an eyebrow.