Hate Me Closer (Phan)

Chapter Nineteen

They arrived at the Lesters' house, positioned at the end of a small cul-de-sac and clearly delicately designed by the chosen architect. It had white framing, either very well maintained or recently repainted, and the main body of the building was late nineteenth-century red brick.

Dan was expecting a bigger house for someone dressed in the clothes that Phil wears. It was much larger than any he'd ever lived in, but it wasn't stand-offish, nor was it obviously owned by parents who could afford to send two sons to boarding school without any cut fees.

Katherine and Nigel were legally his carers for the next four years, but then after that, he was truly alone. He didn't know what option was worse. He pulled the earphone out of his ear and passed it back to Phil, giving him a feeble smile to thank him. He opened his car door, following Nigel to the back of the van where he collected his belongings and stood awkwardly beside the other three of them.

Phil's dad smiled, taking the teenager's boxes out of the vehicle and carrying them into the house, "I'll steal Andrew later, Kath, to get the piano in."

"Wonderful." she smiled, turning to Dan, "Do you play?"

"He does." Phil answered for the younger boy, "He's bloody good at it, too."

Dan shrugged, pursing his lips and following the family into the building. The décor seemed to match the style of the home's exterior, with the hallway containing various photographs from the early 1900s, and the carpet seemingly original, although very well cleaned. It looked quite similar to his grandma's, if she lived in a house about three-times the size and had her money tenfold.

"Let's show you to your room, Dan." Kath gave him a friendly smile before walking up the stairs, looking behind her to make sure he was following, "Your room was Phil's older brother's, Martyn, but he went off to university a few years back and has no plans to return to live here. It's opposite Phil's, and then mine and Nigel's are at the end of the hall. There's three bathrooms, one next to your room, but I'll get Phil to show you around properly later after dinner. How does roast sound?"

"Yeah, good." Dan nodded, "Thanks."

She opened the door for him, letting him carry in his suitcases and prop them against the bed frame, "Sorry if it smells a bit like paint, still, we had the walls redone and got you in a new bed. You can't have a boy in a room for eighteen years without it turning damp." she sighed, "Let's talk more later, yeah? I like to chat, but I'm sure you'd quite like to get yourself settled in."

Dan quietly muttered, "Thank you." again, before watching Kath leave the room. His bed was made with plain grey covers, and there was a wooden desk in the corner that looked like it belonged to an eighteenth-century poet, but he loved it. His dresser was also dark wood and was designed to fit perfectly inside a sloped wall, cutting the room off into a rectangle. He assumed it was piping from the bathroom.

He sat on the bed, taking his hoodie off and placing it onto the duvet, taking in the dusty blue walls and cream carpet. The room was massive, to him, it was about the same size as the dorms he slept in, but he had it all to himself. His bedroom in his parents' house was about a third of the size, and for his grandma's it was at least half. Although, to anyone else, it would have probably been a reasonably average-sized room and Dan was aware of that.

"Knock, knock?" Phil asked, standing in the doorway, "I've got the rest of your stuff from downstairs." he looked at the floor before warily placing them just inside his classmate's bedroom.

"Cool." Dan sucked in a breath, "Thanks."

"I swear Martyn had a TV in here." Phil glared at the desk, "I'll ask Mum and Dad, it was probably taken out when the room was painted, then forgotten about."