Lukas’s gaydar is foolproof, it always has been. Even the straight guys will give off little vibes, little looks that linger too long. Touches that come across as friendly gestures, but are anything but. Words that should be intercepted as stupid jokes. They never are. There is usually a reason.
He had kind of known where Max lay, long before Simon had asked for advice how to handle the shitstorm of his outing the kid. He hadn’t meant to. The kid had just written this fantastic characterisation in class, and Simon had gotten carried away with the brilliance of it until he had realised, far too late, that what he was enthusiastically reading out in class was completely true. That this was the kid’s own story. That the kid was cringing in the corner, gasping for breath and scrambling to leave. And it was Simon’s fault. Lukas was in full agreement on that. Totally.
Which is also why Lukas is desperate to get Max into the Queer student group. Because those kids need someone like Max. Someone who is clear cut and owns who he is. Because, however grumpy and detached the kid may seem, he is clearly brilliant at being himself. He can be loud and enthusiastic one minute and completely lost the next, but he has never once apologised for the way he functions, and that in Lukas’s book, is worth a fucking award. The kid has taken bravery to the next level.
He hasn’t heard a word of what the kid has just said, but Miriam is nodding appreciatively and loading up a page on the laptop in front of her, pointing at some diagram and Max looks surprisingly alert. Like he is actually taking this in. Smiling smugly as he apparently answers Miriam’s question correctly.
He’s got his father’s smile. His bloody Dad. Lukas can’t believe Tom has a kid. A son. He has somehow managed to raise a child. A pretty awesome one too, despite the bad attitude and health problems life has thrown at him. And of course, there is the fact that Max is his father’s son. Poor thing.
Tom Andersson Björklund was a dickhead at school. He’s still a dickhead. Well, at the same time, Lukas is kind of arguing with himself in his head, because if Tom has managed to bring up this kid to be the pretty awesome little fucker he is despite his problems, then Tom has done something right.
Not that Lukas will forgive and forget. Nope. Not happening. Like ever. Tom Andersson Björklund deserves none of Lukas’s kindness. None of his forgiveness. Still, Lukas isn’t completely innocent in all this. He keeps trying to push that fact to the back of his head.
It was at one of those bloody parties. Year 3. Early autumn when the weather was still warm enough that people were outside on the veranda. The music was blasting out in the darkness where it was only a matter of time before the police would come and shut them down. It was inevitable, and things were getting out of hand. People fighting in the street and shouting about it, and someone was spraying a garden hose around. Lukas can remember it like it was yesterday. He had stood on his own outside, trying to get hold of his mate Pontus about some weed. Pontus was nowhere to be found. Simon was getting antsy, and there was this girl hanging around. Then, Tom was right there. Standing there by the garden fence with his foot up behind him and a cigarette between his teeth, just glaring at Lukas. Creepy staring until Lukas kind of lost the plot and shouted into his mobile for Pontus to ring him back and fucking show up with the gear. Stupid shit. Lukas was drunk. Lukas was horny. Lukas was fucking frustrated.
So, Tom had walked past and thrown some off-hand comment. The usual imbecilic shit he would spout. Fucking faggot or something. And Lukas had lost his shit.
He had grabbed Tom and pushed him up against the wooden fence, using all his strength to keep the boy firmly in place, pushing his face into the coarse planks whilst he hissed in his ear. He hadn’t been kind. Spitting out words in anger about how Tom was begging for it. How Lukas would use his fucking faggot mouth and kiss the filthy mouth of his like he had never been kissed before. How Lukas would show him how to fucking use a cock. How Lukas would make him beg. Make him shout and embarrass himself with how much he wanted it. Shove his cock down his throat until he gagged on it.
It had been completely idiotic drunk drivel. All of it. Stupid angry words that were just juvenile threats and just the thought of Lukas having said things like that, even to Tom, makes him blush in embarrassment.
He had run out of steam after a few sentences. Slammed Tom’s body against the fence a few times to prove his point.
“You want it,” he had hissed. Then, he had shoved his hand between Tom’s legs. Just to prove a point. Just to scare him. Just to make him feel as small and ridiculous as Tom made him feel.
But Tom had been hard. Tom had been fucking hard as a rock and Lukas had jolted back in fear.
The next time he laid eyes on Tom Andersson Björklund, Tom had pushed him down the imposing stone school staircase head first. He had gotten away with a bruised hip and a split lip, but it could have been so much worse. It hadn’t been the end of it. Because Lukas was a complete twat with a couple of beers in his belly. And Tom just wouldn’t stay away.
“We are quite happy with that, aren’t we, Lukas?” Miriam says cheerily, pulling him out of his thoughts. Max is looking up at him with what could almost be described as a smile.
“Sorry, Yes. Yes. Of course,” Lukas stutters out. He hasn’t got a clue what is going on.
“So, as I said, Max, we will email you a couple of more links on immunology and viruses and if you could read them, we can talk it through on Tuesday. Would that work for you?” Miriam takes a sip of her tea and turns to Lukas. Like he is expected to talk. Like he is supposed to have a clue.
“Yeah. Good work today, Max. Is this the kind of learning you feel you can cope with right now? Is it too much, or the right amount of reading?” He tries to look involved. Kind of. All whilst his head is spinning.
Max just shrugs his shoulders, but there is something there. A little glimmer. Almost pride. The kid is on a roll.
“Can I ask you something?” The kid looks like he actually wants to. Like he is dying to know whatever it is.
“Of course.” Lukas is a teacher. Of course, the students should ask questions. Especially since Miriam is tapping away on her laptop and lessons are due to start in four minutes. There is always time.
“I know my Dad was an arse to you when you were here. When you went to school.” Max is kind of composing himself. Swallowing too hard. Like he is trying to find the words.
“Max, that is something I am not willing to discuss with you.” Absolutely not. Never.
“But did you know why? Did you know my Dad? Why he did it?”
The kid looks genuine. Like he kind of needs to figure this out. When all Lukas wants is to run to the bathroom and throw up. Just like that party at Eva’s. The fucking party. When it rained, and they were all packed inside, and Lukas had drunk far too much, and Tom’s gang were all there and there had been some fucking juvenile taunting and Simon had lost his shit and Lukas had locked himself in the toilet and thrown up, only to find Tom sitting on the edge of the bath.
Tom, who had looked like he had been crying. Whilst Lukas was hurling his guts down the toilet.
“We’re such idiots,” Tom had said quietly. “We’re both fucking idiots.”
Lukas had stood up. Washed his mouth out in the sink and dried his face on the towel, before carefully hanging it back on the peg. He had stood there, tall and defiant looking down at Tom.