Sorry it's a bit random
Chapter 11
I ran after him. SC was probably jeering at me, but I couldn't give a shit. I craved Peter, more than the speed I'd promised mum I'd stopped taking, more than the packet of cigarettes which I watched fall out of my pocket. I stopped. There he was, face bathed in the watery glow of a street light, his eyes and lips shadows. He was beautiful. "Hey," I breathed, "What was that about?"
"Violence doesn't solve anything. If you use violence, you're just like them."
"Are you angry with me?"
He sighed. "Not angry, Carl. I just thought...I thought you were better than them. I thought you were different."
"I'm sorry." It was all I could say.
He looked up and smiled a bit. "Do you know, you're the first person who's ever said that to me. When I was at school, there were these lads who would...I kept a notebook, and I'm not afraid to tell you that, Carlos, 'cause you'd understand. I'd write everything in there- chords, lyrics, poetry, guitar models- even if the sun was shining in a nice way, or I'd just seen a cat that had funny whiskers, I'd write it down. Sometimes they'd nick it and read it, or throw it in the mud. But I knew it would always be all right, 'cause it was called the book of Albi-ohh."
He trailed off suddenly and bit his lip.
"The book of what?" I pressed, gently.
"Albion," he said, no louder than a whisper.
"What's that?"
"It's an ancient word for Britain. But it's a ship, in my head."
"Going where?"
"Arcadia."
"Where?"
"It's a magical place, Carlos, where there's no rules, no government, no war, no sadness. Where I can...where we can...we. Carlos, we- Arcadia's yours, too, now that I've..." tears were filling his eyes. "C'mon," he said suddenly, and took my hand, "Let me show you Arcadia, my boy!"
