Chapter 11

“How long?”

Alex tilts his head.

“How long has he been…?” Ryan waves a hand vaguely.

Alex straightens his head again, chin jutting forward. His grey eyes are cool.

“Tell me!” Ryan hisses.

“Why?” Alex challenges.

“Because—!”

“To satisfy your curiosity?”

“So that—!”

Alex’s lips thin. Ryan subsides, still staring with morbid fascination at that purple-black skin. It’s blackberries—autumnal, sharp, dark…

“How long?” Ryan repeats, insistently, and Alex’s jaw works tightly for a moment, before his eyes slide sideways and he reaches for his shirt, abandoned on the bench for over two hours. “Howlong?”

“Your Nan wants us to finish that,” Alex says abruptly, standing. Ryan lets him.

They continue in silence until the sun hits the top of the back wall, and the light slices through Alex’s dark hair like a knife. It forms a black halo around his head, messy and free and wild