Chapter 7: Cold Heat

Michelle

"Will you be able to get out Christmas Day?" Carla sips on the bottle of vodka she is holding, sat with her knees pulled up to her chest against the wall of the gym.

"I'll try my hardest." I respond, picking at the weeds that are forcing their way through the concrete, from where I sit opposite her. "For you."

"Yeah well, let me know." She mutters. "Wouldn't want to interrupt Christmas dinner and carols with the Connor's."

"You're welcome to come round, if you want." I offer, looking up at her and she raises her eyebrows at me. "Besides, it's a half price turkey joint that's probably days past it's best before date. Nothing too special."

"Least you'll eat." She shrugs.

"I'll bring you some leftovers." I smile and she rolls her eyes at me.

"I'm not a dog, Chelle." She replies, bitterly. "Although I'm sure some people would argue with me there."

"If you were a dog, you'd be one of those really scary ones." I decide, ripping the weeds between my fingers. "You know, the ones that make you cross over the road if you see one coming the other way."

"And you'd be a small yappy one." She retaliates. "That never shuts up."

"Alright ladies?" I jump suddenly, noticing Carla's head snapping upwards to where Will was leant up against the wall of the gym.

"Oh fucking hell." Carla places a hand to her chest. "Who the hell are you? I thought you were the head then."

"This is Will." I sigh, as he sits down next to me and I shuffle away from him slightly. "Will, Carla. Carla, Will."

"Oh, so you're Will?" She narrows her eyes, offering him the bottle of vodka and he shakes his head. "No, didn't think so. Too posh for shots round the back of the gym, hey?"

"Are all you girls from the estate so rude?" He grins, going to put his arm around me and I shove it off.

"Bet you're gonna grass us up now, aren't ya?" Carla asks him, confidently. "You seem like the type. Bet you've got badges for it; dobbing students in."

"I wouldn't dare." He grins, turning his head to look at me. "You look nice."

"I look the same as I do everyday." I point out, bluntly.

"Exactly." He responds and I try not to smile at his comment.

"Ugh." Carla groans, mimicking a gagging motion before pulling herself up. "I'm going. I'll leave you two love birds to it."

"Please don't." I mutter, and Will just laughs at me as Carla saunters off. "What?"

"You can pretend you're not into me all you like." He nudges me. "But I'm not stupid."

"Evidently." I drone. "You got ninety eight percent in that global warming essay."

"And what did you get in yours?" He teases me and I raise my eyebrows at him. "Let me take you out?"

"Take me out?" I scoff, shoving him playfully. "Take me out where?"

"Wherever you like." He shrugs and I sigh, hating the fact I was tempted by the idea.

"I'll get ripped on for dating you." I say, out loud, immediately regretting it.

"Ooh, dating now." His eyes light up. "Bit forward, Michelle Connor."

"Oh shut up." I narrow my eyes at him. "I don't know... We could go to the chippy or something after school if you want? Oh actually, if my brother is working, maybe not."

"Is he protective?" He guesses.

"No, he'll just make fun of me for hanging around with somebody who carries a briefcase." I tell him and he nods, amused at my humour. "Oh and you're paying by the way."

Carla

I sit cross legged on the grass, poking at the cracked dirt with a stick and flicking the ash off the end of my cigarette. I had started smoking far more than I had been a couple of months ago, partly due to boredom, and partly because it calmed my emotions, which were messing with my head at the moment.

"Can I sit with you?" I hear a familiar voice, looking up to see Aidan staring down at me. I could see the tiredness in his expression, which didn't surprise me, and due to the small ounce of sympathy I held out for him, I just shrug in response.

"Free country." I respond, looking back down at the floor, and he hesitantly sits down opposite me. "...How you holding up?"

"Fine." He mumbles, watching as I pick at the dirt, flicking it further across the field we were in, that lies behind the estate. "It's slowly becoming more real, I guess."

"Slowly things will begin to seem normal again... I don't suppose that's much comfort... Sorry." I try to help him, realising I was doing a rubbish job at it. Like everything. "I say that as if I understand."

"You've been through enough to understand anything." He responds and I look up at him.

"Not that." I assure him. "There's very few people I love enough for it to affect me, like it's affected you." I throw the stick into the distance, before gazing at his sullen expression. "And anyway, most of the stuff I've been through is down to self-loathing anyway."

"How can you hate yourself so much?" He asks, and I have to go over the question several times in my head to process it properly.

"Aidan... I've got nothing. My mum doesn't give a shit about me. My stepdad hates me. I live in the dirtiest, scummiest flat in the estate. Everybody knows it; that I'm that poverty-stricken, neglected, slag." I swallow. "I have no friends. The people I thought were my friends, tell their friends otherwise. I spend my life drinking and smoking, then regret it straight afterwards. I never eat. I never sleep, because my bedroom is too cold and I have the fear that if I close my eyes, I won't wake up again. Even though I don't know why that's a fear, because right now it seems very tempting. I have no future, my education went down the pan a long time ago. I'm destined for the crematorium or the streets, there are no other options." My voice suddenly cracks at the thought, noticing the fear that is conveyed in his face. "Oh God... I'm sorry."

"...You needed to get that off your chest, didn't you?" He assumes and I stare down at the floor, forcing myself not to cry.

"What does it matter? It's not like it'll stop me thinking about it." I mutter, biting my lip so hard I can feel the salty taste of blood invading my mouth. "...Bet you wish you never asked that question now."

"You've got Michelle, Paul, Liam." He lists, trying to help and I sigh, closing my eyes at the thought. "Do you love Paul?"

"No." I respond, without even thinking, and he hesitates.

"Do you love Liam?" He continues.

"...I don't know." I admit, trying to understand these questions myself, as I had been for months, years. I know what's next, before he's even said it.

"...Do you love Michelle?" The words hit me gently.

"Yes." I answer, shocked that I had actually said it and I look up at him, his expression surprisingly understanding. "I don't know in what way, but I do... I do."

"...Then why aren't you with her now?" He questions, his eyes searching mine, as if the answer was so obvious.

"Because she's out with somebody else." I tell him. "...Some soft, well off, poncey guy from her geography class... Why wouldn't you be out with them? They'll probably get together and live happily ever after. Then that'll be me gone, because let's be honest, it was Michelle throwing her stupid pink sparkly ball against the wall that separated our original flats in the first place, that even attached me to you guys. It's all down to Michelle. As soon as she pushes me out, finds somebody better, then reality hits."

"That's not true." He replies. I was unsure why he was being so nice to me, after all the stick I had ever given him. "You're a massive part of our lives, all of us. Dad talks about you all the time."

"Oh yeah? Probably slagging me off like everybody else." I guess and he shakes his head.

"No, he actually cares about you." He says, to my surprise. "Talking about how much he admires you."

"Admires me?" I scoff. "You drunk?"

"I mean it!" He exclaims. "I don't know why he's so attached to you, but he is."

"He hardly knows me." I point out. "And I hardly know him."

"Well... You're always welcome at ours." He tells me, and I raise my eyebrows at him.

"Why are you saying all this?" I ask, kicking my legs out onto the grass. "I'm horrible to you."

"Well maybe we can make a truce that we'll both start being nicer to each other then." He shrugs. "You said yourself, nobody cares about you. So why don't you let me?"

"Because I'm a stubborn cow." I smile slightly, meeting his gaze. "And I thought you were an annoying little prick."

"Thought?" He repeats.

"Well... Everything you've just said and the way you've listened, without judging." I shrug, trying not to be too soft on him. "And the way you've been there for Kate the past few weeks, I've seen you. I guess... Maybe you're not the irritating kid I thought you were. Completely anyway."

"Careful." He grins, cockily and I feel like it might be the first time he's smiled since his mother's death. "I'll start thinking you're soft."

"Do not tell this to anyone." I point at him, playfully and he laughs, before his face goes serious again.

"...You're not going to do anything stupid are you?" He is careful as he phrases it, clearly referring to my earlier speech.

"Not anything I haven't done already." I respond, noting his concern. "I'll be fine. I've managed so far."

Michelle

"Ok so the chips taste like shit." I laugh, as he looks distastefully at his second one, leant up against the brick wall outside the chippy. "But the mushy peas are good."

"Considering how much you down-played it, it's half decent." He shrugs, continuing to eat as I jump up to sit on the wall and he watches me do so, a smug smile on his face.

"What?" I study his expression. "Can't believe you've pulled me?"

"So I have pulled you?" He grins, sitting himself next to me on the wall and I put my head in my hands, groaning. "You're quite cocky aren't you?"

"And you're quite frustrating." I moan into my hands. "When you call me out on everything."

"Not my fault you find me irresistible." He nudges me and I look back at him.

"Yeah, yeah." I roll my eyes, focusing back on him, as he puts the chips down on the wall next to him, turning his head to face me again. I know what's coming next by the way he is looking at me, and it doesn't surprise me that he looks hesitant to do so, as I had deliberately been trying to give him the cold shoulder. But this time I don't. I let him move in and I kiss him back, as he places a hand on the side of my face, brushing the hair away gently. His lips are warm and his tongue flicks against mine affectionately, as I let him in, throwing a hand around his neck and continuing to kiss him for a few minutes.

"Oi, oi sis!" I suddenly pull away from him, my head snapping round to see Liam, staring at me with an excited grin on his face. "What's going on here then?"

"Liam!" I snap, partially because I was shocked, but mainly because he had interrupted what had been the best kiss I had ever had... Or could convince myself it was. "What are you... You're not working today?"

"I'm covering big Smith's shift." He points to the chippy, before folding his arms and observing Will, who actually looks slightly nervous. "So, what are your intentions towards my little sister then? Or do I need to ask that, after what I just saw?"

"Ignore him." I tell Will, glaring at Liam. "I can do what I want, thank you. I don't need your approval."

"Uh, you're still fourteen years old, missy." He reminds me and I roll my eyes, cringing at his protectiveness. "So I hope that's all you're doing."

"Liam, shut up." I hiss, remembering the fact he still had no clue about what went on between Dean and me. "You're so embarrassing."

"I know." He grins, ruffling my hair as he walks past me. "Have fun."

"I am so sorry." I groan, looking back at Will.

"No, it's nice that he looks after you." He shrugs, going slightly awkward now that our kiss had ended so abruptly.

"I don't need looking after." I assure him.

"You're very stubborn, aren't you?" He laughs. "I guess I'll need to get used to that."

"Oh will you now?" I nod, testing him again. "And what are you implying by that?"

"I'm implying..." He avoids my gaze, looking down at the wall. "That I wouldn't mind you being my girlfriend."

"Wow." I bite my lip, trying to stop myself from smiling. "Well, you don't hang about."

"Not with somebody as gorgeous as you, no." He relays and I blush slightly, letting the hair fall over my face. "...You haven't given me an answer."

"Ok, pushy." I smile at him, hesitating to make him wait longer. "Yeah alright, why not."

"Oh how romantic." He scoffs, as I pull him back in, kissing him again.


"Merry Christmas." Liam pushes my door open, sitting down on the end of my bed and holding out a present.

"You actually bought me something?" My eyes light up as I take it from him. "Or nicked?"

"Uh, I paid for that with my own wages." He tells me proudly. "Thank you."

"Fair enough." I roll my eyes, opening it and pulling out a glass box with a musical note engraved on it. "Shit, Liam. Where the hell did you get this from? It looks expensive."

"Yeah it was." He replies, as I admire it. "Keep it between me and you, yeah. I haven't got Paul anything."

"I haven't got you anything." I bite my lip and he shoves me playfully. "Except the gift of song... While shepherd's watched their-"

"No thanks." He puts a finger to my lips and I glare at him.

"You love my singing!" I argue.

"What did briefcase boy get you then?" Liam's eyes sparkle.

"Don't call him that." I scold him, holding my wrist up to show him the silver bracelet Will had bought me. He raises his eyebrows, inspecting it for a moment.

"Wow... I see why you're with him." He nods, impressively. "I bet that didn't come cheap."

"Well I didn't ask." I narrow my eyes. "He's really not that well off."

"In comparison to us, he is." He tells me. "Still, it's very nice. I'm glad you're happy. We'll see how long he lasts."

"Oh shut up." I nudge him.

"And don't go doing anything until you're sixteen." He warns me, a wrench of guilt tugging in my stomach. "He'll have to wait. If you're that special, he will."

"I can manage my own life, thank you." I respond, more bitterly than anticipated, before sighing and putting his present down on the side. "I won't. Ok? So stop banging on about it. It's Christmas." I wrap a piece of battered, fraying tinsel around his neck. "Enjoy it and be festive."

Carla

"Merry Christmas." Rob mutters as he enters my bedroom, seeing me sat in an oversized t-shirt, cross legged on the bed. I didn't know who it belonged to, maybe Liam or Paul, or just somebody else who had left it behind after escaping immediately after I'd served my purpose.

"Merry Christmas." I manage a weak smile as he sits down on the bed, his hair ruffled. He looks so depressed. I look so depressed. The whole atmosphere of this flat was depressing. Merry fucking Christmas to us.

"Carla, get up." I hear George's voice as he hammers on my door, going quiet for a moment before returning. "Robert, are you in there?" I glance at Rob, standing up confidently and opening the door.

"What do you want?" I ask bluntly, as he peers over my shoulder to see Rob behind me.

"It's Christmas day." He spits, as if we weren't aware. "And you're just gonna camp out in there?"

"Well we're hardly going to sing carols around the fire are we?" I raise an eyebrow, testing him. "Cosy family get together, have you bought a turkey and the trimmings and all?"

"Shut up you ungrateful little shit." He snaps at me, and I silence myself, not having the energy to try and fight back if he made a swing for me. "You got anything? All the shops are shut."

"No." I answer firmly, readily prepared to let him nowhere near the bottle of vodka I had stashed to get myself through today. "Should've thought ahead, shouldn't you?"

"Rob?" He shifts his gaze to him and Rob shrugs. "Well 'ave you or not?"

"I don't think so." He replies and George stares at him fiercely.

"Don't think so?" He moves forwards and I push Rob back, protecting him. "Out. Now. You're not muckin' around in here."

"Where's mam?" I sigh, heading down the corridor and shutting my bedroom door with such force it makes the floor shake.

"Merry Christmas." She sounds from the sofa, her voice hoarse and weak as she sits herself up. Her pupils were huge, her hair was an absolute mess, the stains coating her dressing gown made me want to heave. I sit down on the floor, goosebumps prickling over my skin at the freezing exposure of the living room.

"Say Merry Christmas to your mother." George scolds and Rob goes over to give her an awkward hug.

"Merry Christmas." He mutters, before sitting down next to me.

"...So where's our presents then?" I dare to joke. "Did Santa bring me the My Little Pony I asked for?"

"Santa will bring you a slap in the face in a minute." George threatens and mam looks at him worriedly.

"Don't, Carla." Rob sighs, putting his head in his hands. We all sit in silence for a moment; unsure of what to say to one another, unsure of what we were even doing here.

"I'm going out." I stand up finally, unable to sit in the painful atmosphere that encased us.

"Where?" George snaps, rocking frantically in the rocking chair to try and distract his cold turkey.

"Don't know." I shrug. "Anywhere but here."

"We could kick you out onto the streets!" I hear him shouting after me as I close my bedroom door again, staring at my reflection in the mirror. The dark circles, the bony skeleton, the sullen expression. I disgusted myself. I fall back on the bed, squeezing my eyes shut to try and prevent my thoughts from drifting to the pair of scissors on the cluttered side table. I think of Michelle, over and over, her laughing, her depending on me. It was one of the ways I convinced myself to stop. But I felt so weak. I didn't even have her. Not like I did before. Not now somebody had taken my place.

Michelle

"I've been looking everywhere for you!" I exclaim, as I finally approach where Carla is sat leaning up against a tree behind her block, bottle of vodka in hand. "Merry Christmas babe."

"Yeah." She just responds, staring into the distance. "Having a good day with the family?"

"Not really, only just managed to escape." I tell her, sitting down next to her and observing the lack of liquid left in the bottle she was clasping. "You drank all of that?"

"Yeah." She drones. "I'm drunk."

"...Why don't you come back to ours for a bit, hey?" I suggest, knowing my mum would hate me for it, but Carla came first and right now, she didn't look in a fit state to be alone at all.

"They'd love that." She mutters, still not looking at me, taking another long gulp from the bottle. "No thanks. I'd rather be alone."

"Well you're not now, because I'm here." I place a hand on her arm comfortingly and she jerks it away suddenly, causing me to retract. Her eyes go wide as she suddenly stares at me, before trying to cover it up.

"You're cold." She lies, convincingly enough for anybody but me.

"No, no." I shake my head, holding my hand out, as she stares at me weakly. I knew. She knew. "Carla let me see." I ask gently. "Let me see, it's ok."

"It's not." She panics, and I weave my fingers through her hair gently.

"It is, it's me." I whisper, trying to keep my voice soft despite being gutted. She holds out her arm hesitantly and I peel back the sleeve of her jumper, exposing the scarlet marks on her arm.

"Sorry... Chelle. Sorry." Her eyes brim with tears as I check them over, making sure they were clean before pulling her sleeve back down.

"Don't be sorry, it's ok." I reassure her. "Come here." I pull her head into my shoulder, wrapping my arms around her. "You're freezing sweetheart." I pull my jacket off, wrapping it around her.

"Chelle, you'll be cold." She cries, allowing me to do so anyway.

"I don't care." I let out a slight laugh and she stares at me meaningfully for a moment. "You should have come to find me. You're going to pull through this, we both will. I know it doesn't seem like it now Car."

"I don't want you to leave." She swallows and I shake my head forcefully.

"I promise you I won't." I whisper, linking my finger with mine. "Hey, you're still here. I'm still here. Hashtag blessed."

"Hashtag blessed." She smiles slightly at our saying; whenever we pulled through something that made us doubt the future. "I just feel so lost and unloved." She swallows, gripping the jacket I had given her tightly. "You're so happy. I'm jealous. I'm so happy for you... But I'm jealous. I hate that."

"Jealous of what?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

"Your happiness..." She trails off, continuing to hold my gaze and I trace her expression. "I'm so drunk." She forces herself to look away, going to take another gulp from the bottle before I put a hand over hers, lowering it, and she stares at our hands for a moment, looking back at me. The desperation and the weakness in her eyes. "Aren't you cold? Have this back."

"Carla I don't care." I assure her for the second time, making sure she kept it over her shoulders. "You need it more than me." I add, and I see her eyes flicker down to my lips for a very brief moment before she realises what she's doing, looking back into my eyes. "So how's it going with you and him then?"

"Alright." I try to sound bright, partially hoping it would ruin the moment we had built up, but it was still there. The thing we were fighting. I didn't know what it was. I didn't know if I ever would.

"Just alright?" She manages a small smile and I can't help thinking how beautiful she looked. Despite the smudged mascara and the tearful eyes and the unbrushed hair that fell softly against her shoulders. She really was beautiful, without even trying to be.

"It's early days." I murmur, trying to keep my voice casual and failing. "It's just one of those stupid kiddie relationships I'll look back on in ten years time and laugh about."

"Careful, he's probably thinking you'll be together forever." She smiles slightly and I return it, her eyes mirroring mine, swallowing the pain she could release now I was here.

"I highly doubt that." I tell her, watching as she lets the bottle slide from her grip, moving her hand to my knee, the sensation sending warm chills down my spine involuntarily. "You're drunk."

"I know." She admits, moving her head closer to mine. "And you're beautiful."

"Don't." I murmur, as her lips graze mine gently.

"Tell me to stop." She whispers, the words soft against my skin, as her hand effortlessly slides up my thigh, allowing her to kiss me gently.

"I'm in a relationship." I remind her as if she didn't know, but the feel of her against me was so tempting, and I felt a lot more lustful about it than I ever had with Will. She pulls away reluctantly, staring at me with pure love and need. I bite down on my lip hard, trying to force myself not to give in.

"...Oh God I'm sorry. I know." She puts her head in her hands and I watch her mentally beat herself up about it. "That was out of order."

"Was it?" I whisper, hating myself for asking the question and we watch each other for a few more seconds, wondering if either of us were going to dare to make another move, before she swiftly stands up, handing me my jacket back and flashing me a warm smile.

"I'm ok." She decides, trying to reassure me. "Honest."

"I think I should walk you home." I stand up, seeing how unsteady she was after consuming so much alcohol. She shakes her head at me, an understanding look on her face and I realise how much I want her to stay here with me. I wanted to stay here all day.

"Michelle I'm ok, I promise. How many times have I been drunk, ey?" She tears her eyes away from mine, beginning to head back towards the estate.

I don't know why I'm doing it. But I drop my jacket, and I grab her hand before she can slip away, pulling her back, a look of shock on her face as she collides with me. I move in to kiss her passionately, my hand slipping beneath her hair, feeling it tickle it softly. She doesn't pull away, she doesn't object. Instead, she pushes me gently up against the tree, her hand falling back to my thigh, running it up my body which causes butterflies to erupt inside me. Why was it like this? I was straight. I knew I was straight. This made no sense. Yet I didn't want it to stop.

I feel her body against mine, neither of us even breaking away for air. This was the most desirable embrace we had ever shared. Her hand moves to my cheek, the coolness of her palm calming the heat that had built between us. She grazes her fingers against my scalp, moving it through my hair and I sigh at the sensation. This was happening. After all the failed attempts and the near-misses. I knew what this was building up to and neither of us wanted it to stop.

"Are you ok?" She pants, pulling away momentarily to look into my eyes, clearly referring to the last time we had got this close. "You'll tell me to stop if you want me to?" She whispers and I nod, knowing deep down that this time I was ready and it wouldn't be an option.

But I don't get the chance to find out.

"Michelle?" I hear Will's voice, Carla instantly snapping away from me as I fall against the tree at the sudden lack of support. "Oh hey. What you doing out here? It's freezing."

"Will!" I snap, my eyes going wide and I try to casually brush my hair down, complete shock overcoming me about the events that had taken place over the last five minutes. "What the hell are you doing here? It's Christmas day."

"Yeah, thought I'd come and surprise you." He finally reaches us, moving in to kiss me which I reluctantly return, pecking him briefly before pulling away. "You taste good."

"Thanks." I mutter, feeling Carla's awkwardness at the mention of the word.

"Have you been drinking vodka?" He asks, clearly tasting it on me and I am about to shake my head, before knowing that would cause more harm than good.

"Yeah." I lie. "Just a bit."

"Looks like you've had most of it." He glances at Carla, who was trying to look casual as she slips her hands into her pockets. "How much have you had? You look stunned."

"Uh, Christmas isn't all that festive for her." I try to make an excuse, letting my hand fall down by my side as it briefly brushes against Carla's, causing her to pull it away. "Well thanks for coming."

"It's spent me forty minutes to walk here." He checks his watch, which I notice Carla eyeing up. "Thought we could hang out for a bit."

"Hang out?" I scoff slightly, knowing how childish he sounded in front of Carla. She forces herself to look at me, our eyes colliding momentarily. "Yeah sure."

"I'll uh... I'll go." She decides, beginning to walk away and I go after her, tugging on her hand as soon as Will is out of earshot.

"Carla?" I begin, not even knowing what I had to say to her.

"Leave it Chelle." She hisses under her breath. "Go and have a nice time. You deserve it, you really do."

"But I-" I begin.

"I mean it." She finishes, staring at me intently. "This, us. Whatever it is. It's done. You've got him. This never happened. None of it. Ok?"

"...Ok." I respond hesitantly and I see her eyes glisten over. I didn't know whether it was the response she wanted, despite not giving me much choice. She forces a smile for a moment.

"Enjoy it." She squeezes my hand. "You can be happy. That's a good thing." She finishes, tearing away from me and forcing herself to walk towards her block of flats, refusing to look back at me.

"So." I feel Will wrap his arms around my waist, jumping slightly at his touch. It didn't send warm chills down my spine, and it didn't give me butterflies. But it was normal, it made sense and for that reason, I turn around to face him. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know." I smile, trying to forget anything that had happened and start a fresh. "Surprise me."

Carla

I kick the wall harshly, before throwing my head back against it, a sharp pain searing through my skull, which I decide to ignore. I stare into the darkness, the silhouettes of trees I could hardly make out. The cloudy sky which concealed every single star, not even giving one away. It was that murky brown colour, not even inky navy or jet black, the satisfying, dark sky which made everything seem so much more magical. It was just brown, tendrils of cloud ambling along, encasing everything that lay behind it. Dull. Boring.

"Christmas not your style?" Paul's voice comes into earshot as he leans against the wall of the estate, lighting his cigarette. Surprisingly, his voice doesn't phase me, and neither does his comment.

"You know it's not." I respond, watching him blow wavering smoke against the breeze, twisting and turning desperately before dissipating.

"Bet it's been a day full of Christmas cheer over at yours, hasn't it?" He asks, sarcastically, and I don't know whether he desires to upset me with it, or make jokey conversation. But whatever the intention, it doesn't get past the thick skin I had built up over the course of today.

"Wouldn't know, haven't even been there." I mutter in response, kicking the gravel on the floor.

"I'm assuming that's why Michelle slipped out then?" He guesses and I roll my eyes, continuing to stare into the distance.

"Don't get her into trouble Paul." I sigh, sliding my finger nails down the rough, concrete wall behind me. "What's the point?"

"She's got this new boyfriend of hers now." He says, as if I wasn't aware. "You met him?"

"Yep." I reply, loathing the thought. "And if you're looking for any gossip, there isn't any. Sorry to provide you with nothing to blab to mummy and daddy."

"Witty." He grins, turning his head to look at me, and I continue to refuse returning his gaze. "Another thing that makes you sexy."

"Can't imagine it's an extensive list." I drone and he just laughs, continuing to watch me. "You hate me anyway, why would you say that?"

"I don't hate you." He assures me. "Strongly dislike you, yeah."

"Oh what's the difference?" I mutter, shaking my head at his poor humour.

"Doesn't mean you're not hot." He replies and I roll my eyes again.

"Classic." I respond. "How many times have I heard that? Do you think that makes me feel flattered in any way?"

"I was kidding Carla." He groans, realising I was in a 'boring' mood, and I roll my head across the wall to look at him. "Want to have sex?"

"...If you want." I just shrug, too empty to feel anything anyway, before a thought pops into my head. "I've got scars on my arms though, back out now if you want."

"You've been harming again?" His voice is suddenly surprisingly serious, almost caring and I force myself to nod, knowing he would find out one way or another. "Why?"

"Why not? What have I got to stop me? Who have I got to stop me?" I reply, shivering slightly at the words and the look of sympathy in his expression makes me feel sick.

"Me." He answers and I raise my eyebrows at him, forcing myself not to emit a laugh.

"You?" I scoff. "The guy who just told me he strongly disliked me? Who just outright asked if I wanted to have sex and him?"

"I didn't mean what I said about disliking you." He sighs exasperatedly. "You just annoy me sometimes. A lot of the time. Doesn't mean I don't care."

"You don't care though." I correct him.

"I do care!" He exclaims, and it's quite possibly the most meaningful thing I've ever heard come out of his mouth. "Much to your dissatisfaction. I do care."

"...Fuck it." I sigh, leaning in to kiss him, pushing him back against the wall as the night closes in around us.