Under the Westway

Chapter One

"All Bran?" Damon looks up from the pen and paper in his lap to the boy stood in the doorway.

"Yes, Hewlett?" He sighs and throws the book under his bed, turning the pen between his fingers. "You know I hate that name." Interrupts his train of thought, Damon shakes his head, smiling.
"Sorry, Jamie." Jamie grins and sits down on the floor beside the desk, taking his hat off, dumping his bag and pulling the book out from underneath Damon's bed; he reads a line, running his fingers over the cover. He bites the inside of his cheek and nods, "Deep, mate."

"Don't laugh at me." Damon snarls slightly, snatching his book away from Jamie and holding it protectively against his chest as Jamie stifles giggles.

"Damon, anyone who reads that would think you're gay! What's her name? Justine?" He begins to mock Damon's voice, pressing the other's shoulder to make sure the joke is understood, "'Scalding marks on my waist?' What are you? You're in love with her ain't you?"

"Ah yes, Jamie, anyone would think I'm gay for writing poetry for a girl, because that's exactly how most people think."

Jamie lies on his stomach, resting his chin on his hands, poking at belongings scattered across the floor. Damon rolls from the bed onto the floor next to him, their eyes level.
"You're a twat, you know that." Damon sighs and grins.

"Oh!" Jamie stands up, hitting his arm on the desk in his haste. He digs in his pocket for a few seconds; before producing some coloured flowers. "I got you some for your collection. Had to pick them in secret, my mum said they're wild."

"Thank you, Hewlett." Damon takes the slightly crushed flowers in his hands and pulls another book from his desk drawer, flicking to a new page. He places the flowers inside and leaves the paper open to deal with later, tracing the edges of the petals with his fingers.

As his back is turned, Jamie reaches into his bag and pulls out a camera. "Smile!" He grins as Damon turns to face him, glaring at Jamie behind the camera.

"I told you before, Hewlett, I fucking hate it when you do that." Damon stares down the lens at the younger boy in front of him as he sits down.

"Don't swear! It's for my project!"

"Your project on how to be a massive twat?"

"All Bran! I'm gonna have to edit that now." Jamie flicks a switch and rests his camera in his lap, trying not to break a smile.

"Sorry, Hewll." Damon stands up and leans over his desk to shut the book of flowers.