Time slipped away.
School’s end came and went.
Benito thought he’d spot Gianna the moment she got off the bus, but she surprised him with a sharp knock on his window.
Startled, he sat up and opened the door.
She was on the phone. He waited without trying to pretend he wasn’t listening.
“I’ll tell him,” Gianna said. “Yeah. I know. I thought he was dead.”
Her word choice shook any remnants of sleep from Benito. He snatched the phone from her, but the screen was blank. Whoever she’d been talking to was already gone. “Who was that?”
“It was Mum, you freak. She said you’ve been out here for hours and she’s worried you’re cold. She tried calling you, but your phone is off.”
Benito fished his phone from his pocket. Sure enough, it was dead. “I haven’t been here that long.”
Gianna scowled. “You’re a bad liar. Mum says you’re to come inside right now.”
“Oh yeah? She said that, did she?”
“Yes. And she means it, so don’t sulk like a man-child.”
“Man-child? Where did you get that from?”
“Pretty Little Liars.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s on Netflix. I can watch it on my iPad now Mum can afford broadband.”
“Excellent,” Benito said dryly. “Glad you’re using it for productive shit.”
“Don’t swear. And come inside . . . please?”
Benito was too tired to resist Gianna. He let her steal his keys, lock his car, and tug him into the Barnfield Court tower block. Inside, she took his dead phone and plugged it into her iPad charger. “Now you can relax, can’t he, Mum?”
Rosetta was watching from the kitchen doorway. She smiled a little and nodded. “Of course he can. Beni, come and sit down. We’ll take care of you.”
Benito eyed them both with suspicion. “I don’t need taking care of. Is there something in the water round here?”
“Only spaghetti,” Gianna said. “Mum made carbonara. Your favourite.”
“Yeah, when I was twelve. Like you.”
“You still act twelve,” Gianna retorted. “Just sit down.”
Benito sat on the sofa. It was the same one that he had slept on many times after Gianna’s dad had thrown his bed out. Soft and worn, it cocooned him like an old friend. He tipped his head back and watched Rosetta move around the kitchen, only half listening to Gianna as she told him how well Rosetta had done with the tradesmen who’d visited to complete the maintenance work.
“They were nice,” Gianna said. “Sullivan tried to escape, but Mickey brought him back for Mum.”
“Mickey? He was here?”
“This morning,” Rosetta called from the kitchen. “He came to make sure they got the work done in a day so we didn’t have to move out.”
“And did they?”
“I think so. I hid in the bathroom.” Rosetta came back to the doorway. “Mickey said he’d call me this afternoon if they needed to come back, and I haven’t heard from him.”
Neither had Benito, and the gaping hole he’d left behind was a vortex of pain. Now things with Asa were settled, it was all Benito could think about. He was all he could think about. His sandy hair. His scent. His laugh.
His low groan when Benito had eased inside him.
Bitter heat flared in Benito’s chest. He focused on Rosetta, all the while drowning in the pressure behind his eyes. “That’s good,” he said absently.
Rosetta gave him a strange frown. As if his reply had come ten minutes too late.
She disappeared back into the kitchen.
Gianna plopped down beside Benito, dumping her cat on his chest in the process.
The orange beast stared at Benito, owlish and aloof. Benito stared back, as was their current relationship.
“Don’t be nice to him,” Gianna said. “He’s been bad all weekend.”
“Does that apply to everyone, or just cats?”
“Just him. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Yes, it is. You never let Sullivan sit on you.”
“Maybe I’ve changed.”
“Have you?” Gianna turned to face him. “Did something happen with Mickey?”
Benito blinked. “Mickey?”
“Mum said he was in a funny mood too.”
“That’s not what I said.” Rosetta came back with bowls of steaming pasta. Gianna took one.
Benito waved his away.
Rosetta set it on the coffee table. “I didn’t say Mickey was in a funny mood. Just that he wasn’t himself. Then I wondered if it was me. I haven’t seen him in person for a while.”
Benito said nothing.
Gianna ate spaghetti while they all gawped at him, even the cat.
He shifted on the couch, dislodging Sullivan. “Stop staring at me.”
Rosetta took a seat in the armchair closest to the TV. She wasn’t eating either, but her gaze was steady. Kind, almost. “Did something happen between you two?”
“Who?”
“Mickey. I thought you liked each other.”
“What made you think that?”
“I saw you,” she said. “Out of the window. I thought maybe . . .”
“What? That he had the power to evict you from your home and I was chatting him up so he wouldn’t?”
“I thought you might be seeing each other.”
“Are you?” Gianna asked. “Because he’s really nice. If you were going to have a boyfriend, I’d pick him for you.”
Benito’s head suddenly felt so heavy he could hardly hold it up. He slow-blinked again, denial blooming on his tongue, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.
He shut it again.
Rosetta nodded to herself.
Gianna went back to her dinner, leaving Benito to reel in peace. He’d never told them he was bisexual, and he’d only ever brought one person home—a girl who Gianna had idolised and Rosetta had ignored. Had they known all this time? Or had the show he’d apparently put on for Rosetta in recent days, weeks—however long it had been—been her first clue?
What about Gianna?
Did it even matter?
“Benito,” Rosetta said. “Are you sure you won’t eat something?”
“What?”
“Your dinner. It’s getting cold.”
Benito shook his head. “I fucked it up.”
“It’s fine. I was cooking anyway.”
“Not that. With Mickey.”
Gianna stopped eating and wrapped her small hand around Benito’s forearm. “What did you do?”
“I lied to him about what I was doing for money. He found out before I got away from it.”
“Got away?” Rosetta folded her hands in her lap. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m just a taxi driver now, so it really is going to take me until the end of time to pay your arrears off.”
“But you’ll be safe?” she said. “No more fighting? Or bad men in London?”
“No more. It’s done.”
Gianna set her half-empty bowl on the coffee table next to Benito’s untouched dinner. “Can’t you tell Mickey that?”