Bluebird // Phan

Chapter 17: XVII

XVII

In the morning, Phil's headache had improved. The charges of pain were beginning to soften and the bursts came less frequent. He decided he was fine to go to school and he and Dan went their separate ways at the end of the gate bordering their pristine home.
Phil had a yearn to see Cat and talk to her about the minor developments in Dan's area, but he didn't have chance to do that until lunch. The period before, however, he had Chris. Math.

"Fuck this lesson," Chris scratched a line through a mistake in his book. "Fuck it with a sledgehammer."

"Since when are you trusted with a sledgehammer?"

"Since I started using it on equations."

"Right," Phil chuckled, reaching across to steal Chris' paper. "What question are you even on? How many have you missed?"

"Man, I don't know. There's only ten."

"You've answered one and two," Phil smiled. "And two's wrong."

"Fuck off, Phil. We've not all got a brain like you."

"My brain isn't a whole lot better than yours, you know? Metaphorically, I've just trained it."

"Yeah, and metaphorically your brain is Usain Bolt and mine is that fat guy at the end of my street."

Phil laughed, and shook his head. "Do you want to copy my answers?"

"Is that how I improve?"

"Do you want to improve?"

"No, that's why I asked."

The remainder of the lesson rolled through a smog of confusion and sarcastic remarks, before Chris and Phil met Cat at their usual spot on the end of a table for lunch. She wrapped her arm around Phil's shoulders when he sat down and squeezed him tight. For a second, he expected her to disclose everything-open the compartments of the air the secrets were concealed in.

But she only offered a smile and a, "How was last lesson?"

Phil glanced to Chris. "Think you should answer that."

"But my answer would be incorrect, Phil."

Phil's lips lifted in a grin and he turned back to Cat at his side. "How was your lesson?"

"Alright, yeah. I sat by Harry Ester."

"Harry Ester?" Phil echoed. Motherfucker, there he was again.

"Yeah, you know him. Maybe. He's got curly, blonde hair and glasses and there's always some twat picking on him."

"I know him," Phil smiled. "His name keeps coming up a lot is all."

"Oh?" Cat's eyebrows raised. There was a trace of recognition concealed in her eye, smudged away behind public perception.

Phil shrugged and looked down. "I heard he was-"

"Phil."

Phil peered up at the press of his name and a slam of a hand against the table. Dan was stood there alone at the end, staring at him. Cat shifted in her seat and Phil's wouldn't even stutter over to her. She'd probably have been smiling like a mother before a kid's first date.

"What the fuck do you want, Dan?" Chris snapped at him. "Just because he went to that college with you, doesn't mean he likes you."

"Was I fucking talking to you?" Dan growled back.

Phil nudged his shoulder. "What's up?"

"I need a favour," he reached into his pocket and put a crumpled piece of paper on the table.