Golden Boy Read Free Page A

Morez?’
    ‘We weren’t really going out.’
    I wait. ‘And that’s all you’re gonna say about it? I know you did it with her, you told me at—’
    ‘Yeah, I know, at New Year.’ Hunter runs a hand through his hair. ‘It’s not properly sex if you don’t fancy the person.’
    ‘You didn’t fancy her?’
    Hunter shrugs. ‘I like other people more.’ He takes another gulp of Stella. ‘How about you? Seeing anyone?’
    I shake my head. ‘No.’
    ‘I hear you’ve got with loads of people from your year.’
    ‘Where d’you hear that?’
    ‘Around. I’m supposed to keep tabs on you. You’re my little cousin. Sort of.’
    ‘Not really,’ I point out. ‘And I’m only a year younger than you.’
    ‘Whatever. Loads of people at college like you too.’
    ‘Seriously?’
    ‘Yeah.’ He snorts, kind of like a laugh, but not quite. ‘They think you’re pretty.’
    ‘Pretty?’ I frown.
    ‘Well, you know. Whatever. Fit.’
    I shrug. ‘Well, I’ve never even been all the way. I stop before it gets that far.’
    ‘I know, I heard,’ says Hunter.
    ‘Huh? From who? Who’s telling you all this stuff?’ I ask, laughing. ‘Where are you getting your information, Gestapo?’
    Hunter just smiles mysteriously. ‘Well—’ He chinks his bottle against mine as I pick up the second. ‘I get it, anyway. You can’t help it if sometimes you just don’t want to, right?’
    ‘Umm, well, it’s not really—’ I begin.
    ‘And sometimes you . . . just do,’ Hunter says quietly, studying the label of his bottle. He sips his beer and looks around my room. ‘Cool games,’ he mutters, staring at my consoles.
    I frown. ‘Are you alright, Hunter?’
    For a moment he looks really miserable. But instead of talking he leans back onto my shoulder.
    ‘Nothing,’ he says, after a minute. ‘Tired.’
    And then he breathes in quickly, and I realise he’s crying.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ I exclaim, wrapping my arms around him. He buries his face into my neck and I feel his lips, open and wet on my skin. His throat makes a choking noise.
    ‘Hey, hey,’ I murmur softly, and, holding his cheeks with my hands, I gently push back his face so I can look at him. I stroke away his tears. ‘What’s the matter?’
    Hunter manages to calm himself. He looks at me fiercely, almost angrily. His lip trembles. He presses both lips together as if considering something, as if he’s confused, then he leans forward and kisses me. The fingers of his right hand knit with the hair at the back of my head. I’m so used to letting Hunter have his way that for a moment I don’t react. I feel his tongue flick in between my lips.
    ‘Woah,’ I murmur, struggling to pull away from the considerably stronger force of Hunter.
    His dark eyes are black now. They track over my face.
    ‘What are you doing?’
    He looks sullen. ‘You’re supposed to like me.’
    ‘I’m supposed to like you?’ I say.
    ‘You’re more girl than boy,’ Hunter mumbles, and I realise he’s very drunk. How he drove here without crashing and is going to drive his parents back I have no idea. ‘When we were growing up I always thought . . . Max . . .’ he whispers. ‘Please, Max.’
    ‘You’re . . . Hunter, you’re drunk.’
    ‘I was just nervous,’ he mumbles. ‘Because I knew I was gonna see you. Please, Max.’
    He leans in again but I turn away slightly, so his lips brush my cheek.
    ‘I’m not gay. I’m sorry,’ I say. I sound like I’m pleading with him. ‘It’s not a bad thing to be, it’s just . . . I’m not.’
    ‘You don’t have to be,’ he says, matter of factly.
    I look to the side, trying to mull over this, my mouth forming the word ‘what’. ‘Um,’ I eventually say. ‘But . . . you are.’
    ‘No I’m not,’ he says. ‘I don’t like boys. Or girls. Just you.’
    ‘You shouldn’t drive home,’ I say nervously. ‘You don’t look good.’
    Hunter withdraws his hand and his eyes mist up, but it’s a hard mist, like