“Wait!” I say. “It’s OK, we understand that. Since you’re so busy here, we’ll just go and see the nurse ourselves, it’s … really no problem.” I give her what must be a really fake smile, despite my best efforts. “Thank you so much.” I glance around the library. “Yay, books!”
Thirty disgusted faces look back at me, and I’m pretty sure one kid is already messaging under the desk.
CHAPTER EIGHT
NATE
It just came out. I’d always assumed head lice was a big thing, you know, a school wouldn’t want it to spread, and we’d need to be quarantined or something, so Mrs Davidson would agree to whatever we wanted and be all understanding. I hadn’t accounted for the fact that Jack would assume I meant pubic lice, and of course the staff at school like to be all up in your business these days because otherwise it’s neglect.
We should have just both agreed we had flu, put on the coughing and the croaky voice, and it would probably have been fine. Except, it probably wouldn’t because that’s an age-old trick, so maybe I did right.
“You are such a dick,” Jack mutters.
Or I possibly didn’t.
“Why the hell would you say that?” he continues. “Of all things! Lice! You had to pick the grossest thing.”
“It’s not gross,” I tell him. “Head lice, or any sort of lice, are nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Anything you can use in a sentence with the word ‘infestation’ is something to be embarrassed about,” Jack tells me.
“Are we going to see the school nurse?” I ask.
He turns to me, sharply. “No, Nate, we are not.”
“What if Mrs Davidson asks about it later?”
“Tell her you got yourself fumigated and it’s all fine!” Jack hisses. He stomps off up the corridor.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Orientation session,” he says, not looking back.
I watch him go, mulling my options, but realizing that this is school and I basically don’t have any. I sigh and follow Jack, eventually finding him hovering outside the double doors that lead to the main hall, where the workshop is happening. I guess he doesn’t want to go in either. Seeing Tariq with Dylan on the steps earlier cut me up. But going in there, seeing them again, being all together and apparently in love, I don’t think I can take it. And then there’s the fact Jack made the whole situation a billion times worse by announcing it in front of the whole school. Maybe to him it’s not a big deal. He loves the limelight, he’s confident. He might be upset, but he can deal with it better than I can. I know life hasn’t always been easy for Jack, but he comes out of it sparkling, whereas I always feel like it crushes me.
I hover with him for a few moments. We stare at the double doors, the frosted glass panels masking the horrors lurking on the other side.
“What are we waiting for?” I ask eventually.
“For everyone inside that room to die so I don’t have to face them.”
I nod. “That could easily be eighty years.”
He doesn’t reply.
“Just do your Jack thing,” I continue.
He grimaces. “And what, pray, is that, exactly?”
“You know,” I say. “Ta-da!”
He frowns at me. “What was that thing you did?”
“What thing?”
“Was that some sort of shimmy when you said, ‘Ta-da!’?”
“I guess.”
“OK, because it looked like you were having some sort of fit. If you’re going to shimmy, hold the whole body still and alternate your shoulders back and forth. That’s the move. It’s not hard.”
“I wish I hadn’t bothered.”
“So do I.”
He stares at the door, breathing hard.
“Anyway,” I say. “You don’t have to face them. We do.”
He glances, just quickly, at me. “What a beautiful thing to say, Nate. How very touching.”
“Piss off.”
“We can walk in there together, the jilted exes—”
“I think, considering your boyfriend probably seduced mine—”
“What?” Jack screams. “So, I have no idea who started what first, but how is that my fault? I don’t control Dylan, Nate, I’m not responsible for him! I didn’t realize what was going on until we were onstage with you!”
“And you had to make a big show of it when you did find out!”
“Oh, this again? So, what, I should just have smiled and not caused a scene because we’re British and all too polite? I should have let Dylan take the crown for being prom king because he’s such a great guy? I mean, what a load of crap!”
“All I’m saying—”
“Well, don’t ‘say’, Nate. Don’t say anything. You’ve said enough.” He glares at me. “Congratulations on coming out, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“Welcome to being gay.”
I look down at the floor.
“As you can see,” he continues, “it’s hell.” He gives me a huge sarcastic smile, and pushes both swing doors open with a huge flourish, bounding forward into the hall. “TA-DA!” he says to the whole room, doing a shimmy, which looks a lot more technically accurate than mine.
The doors flap back and hit me in the face, whacking my nose, so my eyes immediately start to water. I wince in agony as the doors flap open again, and Jack’s hand grabs my jumper and pulls me into the hall. And there I am, standing next to Jack, the rest of year eleven looking at me, while I’m apparently in tears.
Jack glances at me in dismay. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.
“I’m not,” I whimper.
“Jesus, Nate, don’t let them see weakness, they’ll eat you alive.”
Mrs Taylor, head of sixth form, studies us both with the tired resignation of someone who has spent too much time with sixteen-year-olds. “You’re late, boys.”
“Sorry, Mrs Taylor,” Jack says, giving her a smile. “Unfortunately we were disorientated. Thank god we’re here now, though, right? I suppose that’s a fundamental flaw with this whole
