While ushering Tyson back into the cottage house, he asks me if I have any plans for the rest of the day. Even though I do have to go back home to study, for some unknown reason I shake my head no.
"Why are you asking me if I'm free? Do you have something planned for the day?"
"I was planning on going to hang out at a skatepark in South Bank. I haven't gone skating in a while and I really want to get back into it."
When he sees the look of surprise on my face at finding out that he skates, the corners of his lips tug up in amusement. Because I am intrigued by this revelation and curious to see him skating, I find myself agreeing to come along.
On the twenty minute drive there, I stare at his side profile, mesmerised by the way the sunlight dances on his features. His jawline cuts a sharp contrast against the soft glow.
I can't help wondering what other talents this boy might be hiding in his locker. I did not pin him as the sort of person who skates. There is a blatant dichotomy which sticks out with him that is quite fascinating, hypnotising me into a trance where I want to learn as much about him as possible.
When he feels my eyes on him, he glances over at me and furrows his eyebrows in question. "What?"
"Nothing," I quickly mutter before directing my gaze out the window.
Instead of pressing me for an answer, I see him smiling in amusement from the corner of my eye. Then he bites down on his bottom lip, his piercing disappearing inside his mouth.
As we make our way down winding country roads, the air between us is charged with an unspoken tension. I open the window to allow some wind to brush against my face and I casually lean my head out with a lazy grin.
I find that throughout the journey we keep stealing glances at each other whenever we can do so secretly, catching each other on multiple occasions. I try to unravel the mystery that lies beneath his cool exterior. His fingers tap rhythmically on the steering wheel, a small quirk that only adds to his charm.
Something different bubbles within me as we listen to the radio. The way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles whenever I say something he finds funny, the way his laughter fills the car with warmth—it all feels new and unfamiliar, yet comforting at the same time.
When the car starts slowing down to halt at our destination, he turns to me with a soft grin that reaches his eyes. "Ready?" he asks, his voice low and velvety and nerves flutter in my stomach.
When I glance out the window, I'm confused to see that we are outside the Queen Elizabeth Hall. This does not look like a skatepark to me.
He must notice the bemusement on my face, because he says, "The skatepark's in the undercroft."
"Undercroft? What's an undercroft?" I muse, pushing my door open with my camera in my hand when he exits the vehicle. He then returns to grab his skateboard from the backseat.
"It's underneath Queen Elizabeth Hall," he informs me with a strain in his tone before appearing with his skateboard. With an eagerness painting his face and a brightness glimmering in his eyes, he beckons me to follow after him with a head tilt.
Excitement stirs within me and after gently shutting the car door, I speed walk over to his side and together we make our way over to the entrance of the hall, the distance between us fading away with each step.
I thought I would be prepared when we finally made it to the skatepark in the undercroft, but nothing could have prepared me for the scintillating graffiti art colouring every inch of the walls, and pillars too.
Looking around, I catch the few skaters hanging around and the mute sound of chatter and chortles envelopes the vicinity. This looks fun. A surprised gasp escapes me when someone skates passed me and just in case I topple over, he wraps his hand around my arm and balances me.
"It's cool, right?"
I turn around to face him and in my heedless state, I bob my head up and down in agreement. "Yeah, it's very cool. Especially the graffiti. I mean, look at this."
Uninhibitedly, I step further into the park and the entire time my mouth is parted in surprise and my intrigue prompts me to plant my hand on one of the pillars, blinking widely at the art. It is beautiful. I immediately bring my camera up and snap a few shots of it. A small smile of satisfaction escapes me when I glance down at the pictures and then I spin on my heels to see Kai standing close by. He must have followed after me.
"I wanna see you skate," I say to him with a sparkle in my eyes.
"Yeah?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Alright, say less," then he puts his skateboard down on the floor, "but just know I am a bit rusty so I will not be doing any double kick-flips or anything like that."
"I have no idea what that even is," I admit.
"Do you know what an ollie is?"
I shake my head.
"Okay, watch me closely. Let's hope I still know how to do it. It's gonna be really embarrassing if I don't land this."
When I playfully nod while pursing my lips grimly, he balances himself on the skateboard and takes a deep breath in through his nose. Then he stomps on the tail of the contraption before he and said skateboard are leaping into the air for a second. Then he lands back on the ground with the skateboard.
"Sick," I say to him, grinning brightly and he looks proud of himself for landing the ollie.
The rest of the day is spent with him showing me multiple tricks on and off ramps and my eye pressed against the lens of my camera to get in as many shots as possible. The tricks get more impressive the more he shows me and when he tells me that these are the easiest tricks that anyone could learn, I am inclined to disbelieve him.
While sitting at the top of a ramp, my legs hanging off the edge, I hold the phone I borrowed from him and take a video of him skating around leisurely.
At the end of his performance, he wears a mischievous expression and rushes over towards me, pulling me up onto my feet. Then he tells me that it's my turn. Fearfully, I shake my head from side to side and do everything in my powers to stop him from dragging me to his skateboard. When he tries to reassure me that I will be fine, I am still hesitant to get on the skateboard.
"I won't let go of you the entire time, how 'bout that?" he negotiates.
For a second I stare at him unwillingly but the reassuring look in his eyes slowly breaks through my reluctance and after heaving a sigh of defeat, I jokingly quote the infamous line from Titanic, "Promise me now and never let go of that promise, Rose."
He throws his head back and with a round of laughter, he playfully says, "I promise, Jack."
Carefully, I plant myself on the smooth wooden surface of the skateboard and immediately I grasp his shoulders, fisting his shirt in my palms.
Another low chuckle leaves him when he notices how nervous I am, the deep rumble resonating in my chest.
I narrow my eyes at him as a silent challenge and slowly, he winds his strong hands around my waist and pulls me closer to him. My heart races with a thrilling mixture of fear and excitement. I have never done anything like this before, but with him holding me this close, I feel a sense of safety.
Then he starts to push me. The wheels of the skateboard roll against the floor, creating a rhythmic scratching noise against the cemented ground. His movements are confident and sure, guiding the skateboard with practiced ease. I lean into him, my body molding into his as we weave through the bustling skatepark like two people in a little inexperienced world of their own.
Then my eyes flicker down to meet his and inadvertently my heart races, pulse quickening as his touch sets my nerves alight. His fingers trace tantalising patterns across my back, sending shivers down my spin. My breath ghosts across his lips and I watch as his eyes darken with an indecipherable emotion. My grip on his shoulders tightens unwittingly as my breathing grows shallow, all thoughts of restraint wavering.
Eventually, I begin to relax on the skateboard and he must take that as an invitation to let me go except in my panic, I abruptly hop off the skateboard and together we take a tumble onto the ground.
Loudly, he bursts out in laughter while I stare at him glaringly. The softness on his face though breaks me and soon enough I am laughing along with him.
When he grows quiet, I tilt my head back to look at him and out of nowhere, he says to me quietly, "You're a lot of fun to be around, you know?"
With my face heating up from his softly spoken words, I say, "You're a lot of fun to be around too."
"I wish I could be around Shoreditch more often so we could hang out a lot more than we do."
"What, are you already fed up with our late night calls?" I jokingly ask.
"Oh, no. I love being sleep deprived during my lectures, thank you very much."
I have to purse my lips so I don't end up laughing, but all that does is cause a low giggle to ring behind my throat. I feel his stare on me and again, I crane my neck to look over at him. The intensity in his gaze shocks me and in this moment, the world around him seems to fade away into a blur. Slowly I blink, feeling something warm beginning to swirl somewhere in the pit of my stomach.
"What?" my whispered question almost gets stuck behind the nervous lump in my throat.
"Nothing," he whispers back. Then a soft smile paints his lips and the deep crevices in his cheeks appear. His entire face brightens when he does so and I can't stop thinking about how fucking cute he looks in this moment.
"By the way," I start and that seems to break whatever spell was lingering above us and his gaze turns more enquiring, "Fleance once told me that you don't really like coming to Shoreditch, because of familial issues, but you seem to be here a lot more nowadays."
"Yes, well the family issues were kind of solved so I didn't think it was necessary to keep avoiding them. Also, it did not seem fair to punish the rest of them when it was just my older brother who I was mostly trying to avoid."
Shifting around, I turn to face him and cross my legs. Hesitantly I ask, "Why were you trying to avoid your older brother?"
"Uh... when I first came out to my family, my brother wasn't the most accepting of it especially with how much of a devout Muslim he is and some words were said which were meant to cut deep and they did and so at the end of it all, I said fuck it, I'm out and I'm never coming back."
Sombrely, I watch him and I cannot imagine how that would feel. If my parents or my siblings didn't accept me for who I am, I don't know what I would do.
"My mum, she is the main reason why I come back home so frequently. At the time, she worked double shifts at two jobs to make sure that she could pay for my tuition and she also never failed to call me every day to check up on me, to remind me that she loves me."
Hearing that, I smile softly. "Is that the reason why you try to make your own money to pay for your tuition?"
"Mm-hmm. I do not want to put that kind of strain on her. I think my brother noticed that what he was doing wasn't just affecting me, but our mother too which might be why he now tries to help me out with my school fees."
I nod in understanding.
"After the day I came back from that party that Fleance hosted with his mate, the following morning," his eyes flicker up in thought, "I remember I was sitting outside underneath the veranda and my brother came out. He sat down next to me and even though he didn't explicitly say the words, I'm sorry, he said he both prayed for and loves us all, just the way we are."
"It almost sounds like your brother is more like a father figure than your actual brother."
"I mean, after our dad essentially walked out on us he kind of filled that absent presence and took up the responsibility especially with how much my mother struggled raising the four of us. So, I do see him more as a father figure than a brother. That's probably why his rejection hurt so much."
I don't know why, but that almost makes me tear up.
Coming down from his train of thought, he glances down at me and blinks at the expression of sympathy on my face. His eyes flicker around timidly and as if an idea hit him, he perks up.
"Oh, I'm bisexual by the way."
Involuntarily, a laugh splutters past my lips and I bury my face in my palms. "Why would you just randomly blurt that out?" Still, I am tearing up with but this time it is all from the laughing I am doing.
When he shrugs, I find myself unconsciously leaning into him to lay my head on his shoulder. Whilst quietly snorting against his shoulder blade, I slant my head to look up at him in amusement.
He grins back, seemingly satisfied with my reaction.
"You're so weird sometimes."