Fully English

CHAPTER 11

George and I talk for hours about life in London, the mutual friends we share and our degree courses – naturally I stay as guarded as I can whilst extracting maximal information from him, all the while giving the impression that I am as much of an open book as he is. As we near campus, our conversation draws back to the commonality we share – Rundown Estate – and how we both came to know it.

"I find it kinda crazy how you know Rundown estate so well."

I see George's expression contort for a moment before it clears. "I never understood why you called it Rundown."

"Well that's what we local kids call it," I explain.

"Believe me I've seen worse, I'm from South remember?" He reminds me for the umpteenth time.

We turn off the motorway into the city before passing the main university building en route to the area where most of the students live: Quill Square. It's a neighbourhood that uni students dominate with its closeness to local amenities, takeaway shops and the town centre. Since the houses were ridiculously huge, it was populated mostly by the popular kids with their millions of friends and frequent house parties.

"Don't you live in Quill Square?" We have just gone through the neighbourhood to an area nicknamed Couple Central - a more modest yet expensive area on the outskirts where the houses were smaller and more homely hence the nickname. This was where Reece and Tasha as well as other love-bugs lived.

"Nah," he dismisses. "Too close for comfort."

"Too close to what?"

"Hoopla. Drama. Craziness," he states.

I notice we are reaching Tasha's street and shuffle downwards in my seat. "I thought you liked that."

"I like partying, not drama," he distinguishes.

I duck as nonchalantly as I can when we pass Tasha's home: intentionally dropping my phone near my feet so I have reason to feel for it on the floor.

"Fuck," I feign annoyance as I reach for it, keeping my back arched until I hear the sound of the indicator clicking. It sounds and I look up, only to feel the vehicle reverse instead of turning left or right.

"We're here."

What the fuck?

We're one turn away from Tasha's street – about a quarter of a mile down but it is indeed Tasha's neighbourhood.

"You live here?"

As I said before, this area was most certainly reserved for couples only – the idyllic park at the end of the road was perfect for romantic night strolls and fountain-watching. Lads like George didn't live in cute decorated houses with neat walled porches and hedges.

"Yeah."

"With who?"

"Otis," he states matter-of-factly.

My gaydar flares before simmering immediately. Otis, the president of the African-Caribbean society – hands down the most popular black boy in the university, was not gay. There must have been another reason why the two of them chose to live here, together, alone, so close to the city centre and far from campus. A secret homosexual relationship was not one of them.

"Just the two of you?"

"It's a two bedroom house."

He parks and pulls out the key before walking around to open my side. I look through the window behind him to scan the road before exiting and following him to his doorstep.