I WAS JUST TRYING TO BE FUNNY | ✓

▬ 25: I shouldn't be surprised for it to break if I'm the one who keeps prodding

               At two, Winnie, Sonia's basset hound, starts to demand attention and she says she should walk her. Neither I nor Miles are close enough friends with her to hang out in her home without her there, so we follow.

Eastwich is the most modern neighbourhood in Sufsdale. Everywhere I try to look, I'm expelled by the blinding reflection of sunlight from dozens of windows untarnished by so much as a speck of pollen.

Despite the idyllic weather, all the gardens we pass are empty. No kids chase each other with water guns or colour the cul-de-sacs in chalk drawings as their parents watch from the shade, no music gives away the impromptu back garden picnics that teens have raided their pantries for.

Most houses on this side of Sufadale are empty for summer as their residents travel to Mallorca or Rhodes or wherever rich people go on holiday. Still, they pay someone to wash the windows and mow the lawn once a week when there's nobody here to look at them.

I've fallen behind. When will I stop getting so lost in my head?

Sonia is already at the mouth of a gravel path that strays from the residential area and wades along the sparse woods all the way to the edge of farmland on the outskirts of Sufadale. Miles is waiting for me halfway. Something twists in my chest, or maybe in my gut, and I scurry to catch up, doing my best to give him a thankful smile before we fall into step with each other to follow Sonia.

I should say something. Something that's not an obvious attempt to fill the silence but not too personal either. 'You have a nice dream last night?'

Apparently, it's not the small-talk conversation starter I expected because Miles misses a step and pebbles groan under his trainers.

'Why would you ask me that? How should I know? I didn't dream about nowt.' He grips the back of his neck with both hands. 'I didn't have any kind of dream. I don't bloody remember.'

I raise my hands in mock surrender. 'Sorry. I'll be sure to never ask about your dreams again.'

Unlike the dirt path behind East Trough, here, the hay and shrubbery on either side are well-kempt, paid for by the city, so it's easy to think we're walking in a park. A couple comes into view from behind a bend, and as they pass Sonia, who herself is too preoccupied with Winnie to notice, both crinkle their noses.

I clench my jaw. Then snap my head to Miles. 'Hold my hand.'

He stumbles over his own feet. 'What?'

'Hold my hand. C'mon.' Slapping his arm, I glance at the approaching couple. 'Piss off the Tories. It'll be funny.'

Albeit hesitantly, he stretches out his hand for me to clutch onto. I don't waste a second before leaning into him, tucking myself into his chest. It works exactly as planned — their crinkled noses turn to sneers. They don't attempt to hide their stares as they pass.

It takes immense effort to keep laughter out of my voice as I speak in a carrying sigh. 'Can't wait to go home and have gay sex.'

The woman actually stops to stare.

I turn back to meet it, trusting Miles to guide me forward without bumping into anything. 'She looks like she might get a stroke.'

Miles doesn't laugh. He keeps walking at a steady pace and tightens his hold on my hand. Then, without warning, he freezes so that, as I keep walking, I yank at my own arm. Fixated on the path, he doesn't meet my eye.

I pry our fingers apart. 'What are your palms so sweaty for?' I wipe mine on his shirt. 'Gross.'

He refuses to so much as smile.

Sucking my teeth, I step to stand right in front of him so that he has nowhere else to look. I'm done being invisible. You have to look at me. 'You don't have to be so scared. Nobody's gonna think you're gay now.'

Miles doesn't flee the proximity. He shakes his head. 'I'm not scared someone'll think I'm gay. I'm scared someone is gonna find out I'm gay.'

I forget to inhale.

In a flash, every interaction I've ever seen him have with any other person rushes through my mind. Nothing has changed the scenes gain a new colouring, like that time I was waiting for Baba in the car with the radio on and realised, rather than "If You Seek Amy", what Britney's really saying is "all of the boys and all of the girl are begging to F-U-C-K me".

'Oh...'

I whirl around to beeline after Sonia, thoughts spiralling so quickly I can't make sense of any of them, only to skid to a halt four strides later and spin back to Miles who hasn't moved a step. Eyes screwed up, he doesn't realise I've stopped and it takes him by surprise when I retrace my steps in the gravel.

'You know that makes it worse, right? You just sit there and pretend you hear nothin when they say stuff. That's you they're calling a "queer fuck". D'you get that?

'And for the record, we live in the same place too, so if I'm a dirty poor welfare leech then so are you. But they don't know that, do they? D'you have Lysander drop you off at some random house here and then walk home when he drives you about? But I'm the one that's dishonest? Figures.'

Miles doesn't meet my anger with equal fervour, not even with a spark. What he speaks with is resignation. 'Not everyone can be like you.'

Is that an insult? When he doesn't elaborate, I scoff and leave him where he is.

Soon after I've caught up with Sonia, he does too. For the remaining twenty minutes of the walk, none of us speaks though Sonia does hum and occasionally laugh to herself. She doesn't seem to pick up the cues of another argument, and when we get back to her house, I too decide to pretend nothing happened. Surprisingly, it works, and we get through another two hours of maths to complete the syllabus.