It took a few days for Arthur's cold to fully pass and a few weeks on top of that to blast the memory of ever kissing Francis out of his brain. He found himself falling into a nice routine, hanging out with Gilbert on the weekends drinking and smoking, making his presence as minimal as possible for the Joneses.
Heading back home from school with Al was also a part of that routine. Although today it was slightly different.
"So this is Tony and Kiku, they're my best pals! And this is Arthur, my new older brother"
"Hello Arthur, we have already met." The young Asian boy shook his hand, Arthur did vaguely remember him as someone who occasionally acted as a satellite to Ludwig and his friends. It was the other of Alfred's companions that concerned him. The one he'd gestured to as Tony just looked like he was going to be a huge annoyance. Slightly overweight with a close buzz cut hairstyle he stood out mostly because of his loudmouth.
"Limey bastard" was the closest thing to a greeting he got from that one.
His friends all headed to Alfred's room the instant they passed the front door anyway, leaving Arthur sat alone in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil.
"Hey Arthur, can I have a word with you?" He hadn't been expecting Steve to be home from work so early.
"Err, yeah. Is there anything I can help you with?"
Mr Jones sat down at the counter and paused as the stove top kettle whistled it's sharp 'screee'. He watched Arthur make his tea cautiously, as if carefully planning what to say next.
"First, I want you to know that I trust you. Otherwise I wouldn't be asking. I realise you've only really been with us a couple of months," The man paused, re-adjusting himself to face Arthur. If he were a dog, Arthur's ears would have pricked up. Suddenly he was concerned as to where this was going.
"I really do feel like I'm settling here though, Mr- Steve. Alfred and I are getting along well too." His grip tightened on the mug handle, the skin on his knuckles stung slightly from being pressed against the hot ceramic.
"Yes. Exactly!" Mr Jones face washed with relief, "that's why I was going to ask how you feel, if I had to go away for work. I'll understand if you want to say no, of course, but my firm have offered me a business trip. It's just for meeting with some new clients and a partner company, but I'd be away, roughly a week I suppose? It's just that I'd need you to look after Al."
Arthur slowly nodded as he loosened his grip on the mug. Lifting it to his lips he allowed the hot liquid to spread a fine steam across his glasses. It actually felt kind of nice to be needed, that he was able to be of some use to his new found family. "Yeah, sure. I mean I'll be here anyway so it'll be no problem."
He allowed his father to take over in the kitchen, retreating back to his room. He looked at the cup on tea sat on the small desk in the plain room. To him it looked desperately lonely. He longed for the time when he lived in a small council house in Greater London. It would be the summer holidays and all his brother would be home. Someone would announce they were putting the kettle on and people would creep out of the living room with their stained mugs for another brew. Usually arguing with the order of milk and tea into cup, all uniting against Saoirse that the tea bag should never be added directly to cold milk.
He flicked his phone open to the muted messaging app. The little red icon flashed '17 unread messages'. Some were from so-called friends back in England, people he knew would eventually forget about him all together. After all him moving to America was only a temporary excitement for them.
He scrolled past those messages to see one he wished he'd hadn't. Francis Bonnefoy. The small text preview just started with "About that kiss". He scrolled back up.
Shit. I have to get that frog out of my head somehow. Arthur pushed open the small window and stuck is head out. It was on the first floor but due to the foundations it was still a slight drop down to the grassy lawn.
He slipped back into the kitchen much later to grab a slice of pizza. The cheese on top had already hardened in an mildly unpleasant rubbery fashion. He could hear Al and his friends getting their pyjamas on upstairs, obviously deciding to turn their sleep over into an all night gaming fest. Chucking the rest of the chewed pizza slice in the bin he snuck outside.
Fumbling in his coat pocket he found what he was looking for, a squashed cigarette and lighter. Taking a few strikes of the flint Arthur lit up. He dragged a few heavy breaths of the smoke. It was never something he'd done often but it somehow never failed to soothe his nerves whenever tea seemed to be failing.
It was another one of those things, things he wasn't proud to admit of himself. Imagining his brain as a giant filing cabinet he would categorised Francis in the same section. That small moment off affection, it had been more valuable to him in the moment than his own pride. Arthur felt broken and unloved. These things, smoking, alcohol and sex, they could all be used temporarily to heal himself.