6

-MALCOLM-

I STOPpacing, throw my book down, and glare at the wall. I'm edgy as hell, my body feels like it's full of thousands of fire ants and my head is buzzing like a fucking hornet's nest. Because North is off somewhere doing who knows what—I know what but I'm not thinking about it. This morning when he said he had plans, I knew straight away what he meant. The date with Becki. I didn't ask for details, because I don't want them. Now I'm at a complete loss as to what to do with myself.

And I have no one to blame but myself, because I fucking told him to do it. This is exactly what I wanted. I own every part of him. Well, almost every part—the parts I want. And all I have to do in return is not be a jerk, which is becoming easier and easier every day. He's just so easy to be around. Even the daily kisses aren't as bad as they were.

Who cares if he goes out on a boring cheesy date with perfect boring Becki and her perfect boring tits. He can date who he likes, just like I told him.

I could stay home, but it feels weirdly empty and quiet without him. And I can't concentrate on my book.

I could drive around different restaurants until I find somewhere that I want to eat. I'm in an uncharacteristically indecisive mood, so I'd have to try quite a few. Maybe peer in the windows to see what the vibe's like, if anyone inside looks interesting . . .

I dismiss it instantly. That's idiotic.

I could go run laps on the field. I haven't had to do that at all recently, not since North and I entered our agreement. Now I work out my tension in a far more enjoyable and effective way.

What has he done to me? Either way, I need to get out of this fucking empty house before I go insane, so I throw on my jacket and grab the car keys.

On the way out I spot North's running shoes where they've been tossed by the front door, the laces loose and grubby. I reach into my pocket, pull my phone out and shoot off a quick message.

Me: You left your running shoes here.

A moment later his reply comes.

North: ok

That's it. He's obviously busy, and I should leave him to get on with it. Becki is good for him.

I hover in the hallway and scratch my jaw.

Me: In case you weren't sure where you left them.

North: ok thanks :)

I roll my eyes, fighting a smile. Why is it that when it comes to texts, Nolan seems to forget grammar even exists? Would a period hurt every now and then? A couple of commas? God, even a capital letter. I'll take anything at this point. And the smiley faces? He texts like a fucking grandma.

I open the door but then pause as another thought hits me, and send another text.

Me: You have a test coming up, so we're going to do a study session tomorrow.

North: ok

I stare at the response. Right. Ok then. That's sorted.

I have no other reason to text him. I tuck the phone away again, get in the car, and head for the library. It's open on a Saturday evening. I know because I used to go there a lot before North, it's calm and quiet and reminds me of my childhood. I smile at the memory. Me and Mom used to cycle to the local library and we'd spend hours in there. And they might have the new sci-fi book I haven't been able to get a hold of yet. Maybe that'll hold my attention.

It's only a short drive to the campus, but by the time I pull up I'm itching to check my phone again. I do, but he hasn't sent anything else. Tension gnaws at me, leaving my stomach with a horrible tight feeling. I give in and send the message before I can stop myself.

Me: What are you doing?

My fingers tap the steering wheel while I wait for the reply, eyes glued to the screen. I already know what he's doing, so I don't know why this tension is building inside me.

Finally, his reply comes:

North: im doing what you told me to do

The image of North and Becki enjoying a romantic candle lit meal materializes in my head, both of them laughing and sharing food together, and I shove the phone into my pocket, suddenly feeling far angrier than I should. What was I expecting? I knew that's where he was, even if he didn't tell me directly. After all, he always does what I say.

Me: Are you with her now? At Sal's?

Before the answer comes I shove my phone away again. Why am I asking? I don't want to know. I don't care. I really don't care. It's only fair that he gets what he needs from someone else, because he sure as hell isn't going to get it from me. Even if I wanted to, I can't. And I don't want to want to. So there's no point in getting frustrated over it.

I swing out of the car and slam the door closed harder than necessary, the thud ringing out in the quiet campus parking lot, but it's muffled by the fucking buzzing static in my head.

The library stands on the other side of the quad, and I make my way toward it, passing under the orange streetlamps.

I'm just stressed with everything that's going on, that's all it is. I have a lot on my plate; training North, helping him study, and keeping on top of my own work at the same time is no easy feat. No wonder I'm frayed and edgy.

"Malcolm."

I stop, a small part of me hoping it's North calling out to me. But when I turn I see Paul Shanley through the gloom, a bag over one shoulder. I glare. He's literally the last person I want to see right now. Ok, maybe Becki beats him to the number one position, but he's a close second on my shit list. I turn away as he hurries to catch up.

"Hey, Malcolm, have you thought about what I said?"

I growl. I don't have the energy to put up with his shit tonight. Was he always this irritating? I'm starting to wonder why I even started sessions with him in the first place. My daydreaming over North must have been driving me to extremes.

"Hey, wait." He grabs onto my upper arm and pulls himself along beside me, and I snatch my arm away. With everything going on in my head right now, I'm this close to punching him in his fucking face, I swear.

"It's not going to happen," I say.

"You're not even giving me a chance."

"Why would I? We're not into the same things," I snap.

"Only because you wouldn't even try it," he says. He has the fucking balls to sound exasperated. "I wasn't asking for much, you could at least have given it a try."

"If you want someone to fuck you up, go to a club. There's plenty of people who'd be more than willing to beat the shit out of you."

"I can't do that. I want you to do it." He tries to get in front of me, but I shove past him.

That was Paul's problem—he always wanted to feel special. That was why he liked me domming him, it didn't have anything to do with me, it just made him feel exclusive. And now that he's seen me and North together he can't hack that someone else has been chosen over him. He doesn't want me, he just wants to feel as special as he thinks North is inside his own head. And I can't help him with that, that's a job for a therapist.

I ignore him and keep on walking.

"Please, Malcolm," he pleads. "I know what you like, I'll let you do stuff to me that that stuck up jock never would."

Stuck up? I almost laugh. He has no idea. North's kinky streak is a mile wide. I do things with North that I would never even consider attempting with Paul, because I couldn't trust him an inch. I only did it in the first place to work out my tension. But with North? He's the perfect sub.

Paul is getting frustrated and tries to get in front of me again and raises his voice so that it carries across the dark quad. "What, now you've got the popular football guy to fuck you're too good for me? Come on! He's such a vapid, self-absorbed, dude bro."

That finally gets a reaction out of me. "You don't know him," I snarl. "And keep your fucking voice down."

"Not until you give me a good reason."

I let out a hot breath and push past him again. But he just won't quit.

"I don't get why you can't just do us both. You never had a problem with it before."

"Because I don't want to."

"Why? What's changed?"

"Nothing," I snap.

"Then why won't you do me too?"

I snap and turn on him. "Because I'm not interested in you, Paul! I don't want anyone else. I only want him!"

Paul shrinks back as my words bounce off the far buildings and I snap my mouth shut, but it's too late. I've said it out loud and now I can't take it back. I swallow around the lump in my throat.

I don't want it to be true, but it is.

I don't want anyone else but him. All this time I thought as long as I had him that would be enough. But it's not, I don't just want him, I want only him, and there's a big fucking difference. Everyone and everything else pales in comparison to North.

Paul is staring at me, his mouth open.

I run.

"Hey," Paul shouts after me. "Where are you going?"

When I'm back in the car I check my phone.

North: yes

North: why

Enough of this bullshit. I start the car.