Pictures of You

Chapter Twenty-Five

'Did you go to our school?

'No. My family live at the other side of Sheffield. Maybe if we had lived nearer growing up, or were just a bit closer together in age we might have been closer.'

'I'm the same age as James. We're hanging out together, aren't we? Why is that any different?'

'Because it is different when you get older. The age gap between us seems bigger when you're younger. You're in a completely different point in your life. But when I talk to you, it feels like I'm just hanging out with one of my mates. We have stuff in common because we like doing the same kind of things.'

'You mean guys?'

We both laughed.

'Yeah, I guess that's part of it,' he said.

'Maybe you should try hanging out with him now you're older. If you get on with me, then I've no doubt you'd get on with him too. It might be nice having a good friend in your own family.'

'I'd really like that,' he said. 'I'll give him a call when I go back home.'

'Shouldn't you be back home already? It is the summer holidays.'

'I should, but I told my parents I had a job here, so I wasn't able to get the time off.'

'Why? Don't you want to see your family?'

He thought about it for a second. 'I do,' he said, 'and I will. I'll probably just go back for the last couple of weeks. It's just hard going back home after living on my own. I can do what I want here, but when I'm at home I have to live by my mum's rules.'

'Don't you get on with her?' I asked him.

'I do,' he said, 'but she likes things doing a certain way. She thinks I'm still a kid. She wants me home to have dinner with the family each evening. And if I go out at night, she's calling me at about eleven or twelve asking when I'll be home. It used to drive me mad when I lived there, but now I've lived alone, it's hard going back to being told what to do again.'

'So you make a job up so you don't have to go?'

'I know what you're thinking; I'm the worst person in the world. I don't spend time with my cousin and I make things up so I don't have to spend time with my parents. Don't you ever feel like that about your mum and dad?'

I shook my head. 'My mum is usually still going on a night outwhen I'm ready to go home. She loves going out to dance, especially to gay clubs.'

'That's so cool. What about your dad?'

'My dad died. Car crash.'

'Oh shit, man! Im sorry, I didn't know. And here I am going on about how my parents drive me mad. I know I should appreciate what I've got.'

'It's okay. Even though he's gone now, I know I was dealt a good hand when it came to the family I was born into. My dad was really cool. He always accepted me just the way I was. I know a lot of people never have that.'

'He sounds amazing.'

'He was.'

There was a moment's silence between us as we both contemplated the conversation we'd just had. Ben was the first person to speak again.

'So James never told you anything about me?'

'No,' I said. 'I thought it was a bit strange, but now you've explained everything, it makes more sense.' I thought about it for a second before saying, 'Hang on. You told me that James had told you all about me. Is that true?'

He shook his head. 'No. I knew a lot about you as he's always posting selfies of you together on Facebook and Instagram. He messaged me the day before you came to London, asking me if I'd meet you. He was worried you'd do something stupid and end up getting yourself killed. Now I know you, I can see what he means.'

'Hey!' I said, giving him a shove and laughing.

'I'm only joking,' he said. 'I'm glad he did. I wouldn't know you otherwise.'

'I'm glad he did too,' I said. Then something else occurred to me. 'But that day we met at the station, you didn't know who I was. If you'd seen pictures of me, you would have known.'

'Got me there,' he said. 'I've got a bit of a confession to make.'

'Go on.'

'Well when James asked me to meet you, I looked you up on social media before agreeing to it. I wanted to make sure you weren't a weirdo, or anything. I didn't want you to think I was some kind of stalker when we met, so I pretended I didn't know you.'

'No way! You're such a stalker.' I playfully shoved him with my shoulder again.

'Yeah, well. Turns out I was wrong anyway; you are a weirdo. Pictures can be so deceiving.'

Before I got the chance to shove him again, he slammed his empty bottle on the table. 'Come on,' he said. 'Let's go into Soho.'