Chapter 2
Sebastian had once again been to the headmaster's office. These days it seemed he spent more time there than in lessons. As so often before, the issue discussed today had been his habit of smoking behind the chemistry wing. Someone had seen him and had gone straight to a teacher.
This was not good. The headmaster and even the detention he could handle. But since it was the third time he'd been caught this month, a letter would be sent to his parents. That was very bad.
It was not the first time Sebastian had considered the implications of just not going home. But as always, he didn't see any alternative. He had nowhere to go, and he could be sure his dad would hunt him down. And then things might just get even worse.
Sebastian was fuming. Why couldn't people just keep out of his damn business? If he ever found out who had ratted on him, he would quite possibly kill them.
Then suddenly his mood changed for the better.
Jemima Moriarty was walking towards him. He stopped and tried to look like he was not staring.
Since he had transferred to the school six months ago, she had been taking up more and more of his thoughts and even made a few quite spectacular appearances in his dreams.
She was 17, in the year above him, short, exotic and absolutely gorgeous. But most importantly, she didn't give fuck-all for authorities. Some of the teachers were actually afraid of her, and if there was one quality he could appreciate in a girl, it was being able to scare the shit out of grown-ups.
She had her usual 'shadow'. Her scrawny little brother always right at her side. Sebastian couldn't remember ever having seen one without the other. It was odd really. How many seventeen year olds would voluntarily be hanging out with their younger siblings? And this one was a real freak. He was supposedly fourteen years old, going on fifteen, but he looked more like ten. Well, twelve maybe.
But he and Jemima were so inseparable that everyone had taken to simply calling them 'the Moriarties' or just 'those two'.
Sebastian looked away as they passed and then he turned to get a good look at Jemima's very shapely bum. Then he froze. The brother was looking back at him, and there was something very unsettling about the look in his eyes.
Sebastian quickly turned away and walked down the hall, his cheeks burning, his head feeling a little fuzzy. The brother would surely tell Jemima that Sebastian had been checking her out. How would she react? Would she beat him up, laugh at him or, maybe (the thought made his insides burn too), be interested?
Sebastian retrieved his jacket and then doubled back, heading for the exit. It was time to go home. At least they wouldn't get the letter before tomorrow. Or maybe even the day after that.
He was torn from his train of thought by the sounds coming from the chemistry lab as he passed. The little moans and wet sounds of some serious snogging. He grinned. It might just make this day a little more tolerable embarrassing some horny teenagers by walking in on them. Softening his footsteps he approached the half closed door, a grin on his face.
He pushed the door open and was about to announce his presence when he paused. With her back to him, was someone who could only be Jemima Moriarty. Two slender hands on her back indicated that she had someone shoved against the teacher's desk and the movements and sounds indicated that they were quite wrapped up in each other.
Those hands... Was it a girl? He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Jemima was certainly the type to not give a fuck, and just go for what she wanted. But who could it be? What other girl in school would be up for something like this? And who would Jemima actually be interested in? He glanced around the room, looking for an approach that might give him a chance to see the other girl without interrupting this. Because he really did not want this to end. It was beyond a doubt the hottest thing he had ever seen.
Then Jemima tilted her head and he glimpsed short dark hair. His guts clenched. It couldn't be...
And then he noticed that some of the sounds coming from the pair were not altogether feminine. He almost cried out in surprise but managed to stop himself. He must be mistaken. It was just some short-haired girl with a deeper voice than most. He must have seen her around the school. He just couldn't remember. Any other possibility was unthinkable.
He retreated without making himself known, his heart beating in his chest, his vision a little blurred. As he hastened down the hall he convinced himself that he must have been mistaken.
…
Carl was starting to get annoyed. It was bad enough that this little prick had been moved up not one, but two grades over the course of a single year. But now he had been assigned to Carl as a tutor. A tutor. Carl knew he was no genius at math, but to have this little boy instructing him in such a condescending way was more than he could bear. If Moriarty sighed one more time and pointed out the simplicity of a problem, he would just have to punch him and face the consequences.
And it didn't help that the boy seemed to be dead set on being as physically close to Carl as possible. Having him almost rub up against him as he pointed out the details in the textbook or took notes for Carl only emphasized how incredibly inferior he was. He was so small and skinny, those ridiculous eyes and soft skin making him seem more like a girl than anything else.
"No no no," the boy said, leaning close again. "Look at this. It's not a prime. You have to find the sum of the digits."
Carl huffed. This kid was about to get punched. Then Moriarty turned his head to look at him, and Carl realised to his horror just how close he was. His breath caught in his throat and he tried to swallow. And then the boy smiled at him. "I really like helping you, y'know. You pick up on this stuff so much faster than some of the dunces they've had me working with." He laughed softly before looking down at the book again.
"See," he pointed. "You actually had this one right, except for the third digit and that is an easy oversight."
What was going on here? Was he actually giving Carl praise? Or just sucking up to him?
Carl cleared his throat and Moriarty looked up at the sound. Even closer this time. The eyes took up almost all of Carl's field of vision. Those enormous dark deep eyes. Carl had to look away from them, so he looked down. And there were his lips. Slightly parted. And... no, this couldn't be happening… the tip of his tongue was visible sliding slowly along the upper lip.
Carl didn't quite know how it happened. Suddenly he found that he had gotten to his feet, pulling the boy along with him, pushing him back against the desk and crushing their lips together. His mind was screaming in protest, but he found his body reacting in a truly horrifying manner.
It was as if Moriarty melted against him, going limp and wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling him close. He was definitely returning the kiss and Carl felt lust battling with disgust. The small moan that escaped the boy was the final straw.
Carl pushed him away forcefully and ran the back of his hand hard across his own lips as if to erase what had just happened. It must have been momentary insanity, no other possible explanation.
He stared at Moriarty and saw a gleam of something in his eyes. Just for a second but it was enough. Carl had seen it often enough both in the mirror and in the eyes of his opponents. Triumph.
The fucking freak had planned this. For some twisted reason he had manipulated Carl into kissing him. Carl roared in anger and launched himself at the boy. With a punch to his jaw he send him flying backwards, his back slamming into the wall, his head bouncing off it, before he slid to the floor.
"What the fuck is going on here?" The voice stopped Carl in his tracks as he was descending on the whimpering heap on the floor. He whirled around to face the intruder.
"Piss off, Moran," he hissed. "This has got nothing to do with you."
Moran took a step closer. "It has got everything to do with me, Powers. I'm not gonna stand by and let you beat up a little kid."
Carl sized him up. Though he himself was tough, he was no match for Moran.
He turned to Moriarty. "I'll get you, you little twat," he spat, before stalking past the taller boy out of the classroom.
…
Sebastian approached cautiously. "Are you okay?" he asked.
James was moaning a little and his body was shaking. Sebastian hadn't really seen him since Jemima had graduated. Truthfully, he had probably been avoiding him. He couldn't really see the kid without thinking about that day in the chemistry lab almost two years ago. Sebastian knew he had been mistaken. It had been a girl Jemima had been with. He even thought he knew who it might have been. But still, whenever he saw James, he was reminded of the horror and also that other, shameful feeling that had coursed through him when he thought he was seeing the two Moriarties together.
Sebastian crouched down next to him and put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. "Hey," he said, shaking him very gently. "Are you okay?"
James looked up. His eyes seemed unfocused and there was a red bruise forming on his chin.
"I'm fine," he muttered, but his voice was shaky and weak.
"No you're not," Sebastian said with a wry smile. "Here, let me give you a hand." He took hold of James' arms and carefully helped him to his feet. "You should go to the nurse. You look concussed."
"No," James protested. "I'm fine. Hardly the first time..."
The words made Sebastian frown. "What do you mean: not the first time?"
Jim tried to laugh but then winced. "When you look like me and can do the things I can, you're bound to get beaten up on a regular basis. I just need to get home. Sis'll take care of me."
Sis? Oh, Jemima.
"I'll help you," he said, a little too quickly. "I can give you a lift."
James smiled up at him. "Thank you."
…
Jemima heard the car pull up in front of the house. It did not sound like father's car, so she went to her window and looked down. The car looked old, cheap and not very well kept. She immediately recognised the boy who got out. Moran. A year below her in school, rugby player, hung out with the bullies but never did much bullying himself. Hot. She smiled, wondering what he was doing at Moriarty Manor.
He went round to the other side of the car and opened the door. Then she saw Jim getting out, looking a bit unsteady on his feet. Shit! Not again.
She ran down the corridor, flew down the stairs and were opening the front doors before the boys had made it half way up the steps.
"What happened this time, Jim?" she demanded.
"Hi..." Sebastian began but Jim interrupted him, not meeting her eyes.
"Powers," he admitted.
Jemima gasped. "Oh no, Jim. You didn't..."
Jim shrugged, still looking down.
"Powers attacked him," Sebastian interjected, clearly confused. "He was about to beat him up when I stopped it."
Jemima took Jim's head between her hands and forced him to look up into her eyes.
"A mild concussion, I think. Jim, really. What were you thinking?"
"It wasn't your brother's fault," Sebastian interjected. "Powers is a prick, always beating up on anyone smaller than him."
"He's not my brother!" Jemima said abruptly, sounding almost angry. "I'm not his sister." For a moment her eyes were dark, then she laughed and said: "Thank you for taking him home. I've got him now."
Sebastian frowned. "Yes... Right... Not a problem."
With a final grateful smile, Jemima pulled Jim inside and shut the door in Sebastian's face.
