Chapter 2

The next day at school I am the subject of gossip, and also awe and attention from just about every girl in school. If there's anyone they adore more than Chris Ford, it's his big brother. When did we become friends? What's he like? Does he have a girlfriend? I shrug off most of the questions quite successfully, giving off bland answers that neither confirm nor deny anything, but that's only until lunchtime when the person I've been dreading to see appears in the quadrangle with a small group of friends. Chris has me up against the wall in thirty seconds flat. Harassment or bullying I'm not sure, but if I wanted to I could get him done for something. Everyone is staring. Chris has me by my collar, the other hand on my shoulder, pushing me up against the rough brickwork.

"Now," he growls, all the softness of his accent gone, "Would you like to explain to me exactly what you were doing with my brother?"

"I ah... when I took your book back to you house a couple of weeks ago... he gave me a ride home," I'm speaking to fast, panting, I'm not supposed to be put under this sort of pressure. It's dangerous.

"Then why did he come home last night singing your praises?" Chris seems more jealous than angry and I'm lead to wonder why.

"Why would I know?"

Chris leans close, and whispers so quietly even I have to strain to hear his words. Then he lets me go and stalks off, leaving me to slide down the wall and into a crumpled heap.

"He's mine," he'd said, "You cannot have him."

After that, of course, the rumours began to increase. I didn't really get annoyed by it, it was just talk, easily ignored. And most of it was talk for the sports changing rooms, so I didn't care much. It wasn't until River, sniffing to hold back tears, told me on the way home that he was being questioned, bullied and made fun of, especially in sport, because his brother was, as they had termed it 'a poof'. End of the week, Chaime turned up again, on the big black motorbike I'd seen first time round. I walked up to him, wolf whistles following me, and him all smiles, so pleased to see me.

I hit him.

I didn't hit him hard, I'm not strong enough to do that, but it was a decent punch to the cheekbone and the space between my first two knuckles hurt afterwards.

"Ghost?"

"Don't call me that! Why don't you tell your fucking stupid brother to give it a rest and leave me and mine alone all right? I never wanna see your pretty face again!" and with that I stormed off, only belatedly realising that I'd just given the man of my dreams I compliment while telling him I couldn't stand him. River and I walked home in silence, more or less. He held my hand and smiled, when we reached the drive he turned to me, practically the same height as me now.

"I'm proud of you Alex. Thank you." Then he ran off, to go and tell our parents his latest perfect test scores.

Lying sprawled over my double bed after dinner I didn't hear my mother calling me for a while, absorbed by a new book and lost in the music belting out of my computer speakers. I had all but forgotten the events that had occurred after school. No, that's a lie, I was just not thinking about it, distracting myself from the creature that sat in the back of my mind, waiting for the perfect time to pounce. I had hit Chaime. He'd been so nice and so good to me without me really knowing why. And I'd hit him. It was inexcusable. I should have talked to him instead. It all came down to River. I could deal with any amount of bullying, from Chris or anyone else, but family was another matter. River was bigger, stronger and faster than me, but he was only a kid. Mum came up and told me I had a visitor. I thought perhaps it would be Chris and Chaime's parents, the school, the police.

Chaime stood on our doorstep, under the eaves of the porch. He was soaked, it had begun raining again, harder than before. His bike stood in the rain, and he shivered and dripped onto the sandstone slab. Jeans, boots, t-shirt. His hair was soaked and there was neither a helmet nor a jacket it sight. The wind had rubbed raw the blow I'd given him, but it was more than that, the bruise was cut up, bleeding, a dried trickle of blood flowing down his cheek to the point of his chin. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep warm. I could see the shape of his collar bone through his shirt, the cotton gone transparent with the rain. The patterns of his tattoos leapt out at me.

"I'm sorry about your brother." I just stood there in the warmth of the house, looking at him standing there, so perfect and so alone in the dark, "I didn't know about what was going on at your school. I never thought that me showing up would get you into trouble."

"Did Chris do that?"

"Yeah," Chaime looked away, hiding the wound, not looking at me, "He thought he'd really rip me up where you just hit me. I got pissed, hit him and left. Course, your punch hurt more."

"I have trouble believing that."

"The difference is, I don't care if my brother hates me. I care if you do."

"I'm sorry," I said, I took a step closer to him, but he backed off.

"You don't mean that. Look I just came to apologise that your brother was getting shit for me hanging around. I won't bother you no more, so that's OK." He started back towards his bike, tensing up at the wind and rain hit him. I didn't think about it, I just ran straight after him, grabbed his arm. He tried to pull away but not hard enough to actually shake me off. He stood there, head down and even with the rain I could see he was crying. It was such a strange sight, not something I'd ever expected from Chaime, as little as I knew him. I could tell he didn't cry often.

"What do you want from me Chaime?"

He answered me with a kiss.

The kiss he'd given me before had been so soft, so light, little more than a brushing of lips, an electric contact. This was in every way different. His lips were soft against mine, warm and damp with the rain and the salt taste of his tears, a tiny copper tang of blood. His arms went around me, hand in the back of my hair, fingers strong, cradling the back of my head and my neck. I opened up to him, as though there was another option, and his tongue touched mine gingerly. I closed my eyes, let touch take over, heard a soft groan and realised that it was my own as he kissed me, his mouth hot and perfect. He leant back and looked at me through the rain.

"You're beautiful."

I sniffed and pushed my wet hair out of my eyes,

"No I'm not."

"I think you are Ghost." He looked suddenly embarrassed, "Sorry, I shouldn't call you that right?"

"No, I like it. Say it again."

"Ghost," he whispered in my ear, arms around me, holding me close, "My Ghost."

I looked up at him, slightly scared, mostly just cold.

"Do you want to come inside?"

He nodded and I took his hand, warm and strong over mind, and lead him into the house. I got medical stuff from the bathroom cupboard, sidestepped my mum and led him into my room. He stood there dripping on the carpet while I got out a sterile wipe and plasters and things. He sat on the chair while I dabbed at the cut and wiped away as much of the blood as gently I could. His eyes were bright and watching me intensely as I cleaned the cut and stuck three of the little white plasters over it. They look like stitches to me, and that's what they do, very white against Chaime's dark skin.

"Shouldn't scar too much. Does it hurt?"

"Not any more." He cupped my jaw with one of his big hands and I thought he was going to kiss me again. There was a sound from the doorway, and then slightly muffled giggling. River was standing there, clutching his sides and grinning like a Cheshire cat. Chaime got up, and smiled at River.

"You must be River."

"That's right. You're Chris's big brother Jaime right?"

"Right. Sorry for what happened at your school."

"That's OK," River came forward and held out his hand, Chaime took it, "Jason says you're a bike racer."

"That's right," he turned to me, "Jason?"

"Our other brother." I said, "Looks like an older version of River."

Chaime's whole attitude altered suddenly, he became stiff, tense, his fingers curling by his sides.

"Chaime?"

"You're Jason Delaney's brother?"

"Yeah," now I'm getting worried too, "Chaime, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he came back over to me, smiling, "Everything's fine Ghost."

"Look, I'm going to get changed and try and find you something to wear. You'll catch hypothermia or something like that." Chaime was still shaking a little and he nodded tightly. I found myself another pair of jeans and a jumper and carried the stuff to the bathroom. I couldn't tell whether or not Chaime was annoyed or amused by my modesty. After dumping my wet clothes in the bath, I went into Jason's room. It was a cacophony of sound, he was half watching rock videos at high volume while trawling through his homework. He turned it down when I came in.

"Hey Houston, what's up?"

"Can I borrow some of your clothes?"

"Huh?"

I repeated my request.

"Sure," he waved me in the direction of his wardrobe, "What for?"

"I've got a visitor, he's bit wet."

"Someone from school?"

"Not exactly."

Whether he was suspicious or he had already guessed I didn't know, but he went to the window and the light from his window spilled over the drive and the black motorbike parked in the rain. He followed me out of the room and into mine where Chaime, looking waifishly thin in his tight wet shirt and jeans, was rifling through my CD collection, pushing lank hair out of his eyes. Jason pushed past me, and I hardly got a syllable of warming out before the punch landed. The already raw wound on Chaime's cheek was opened once again. Through the shouting, River hauled Jason off and pushed him back, hand on his chest until he calmed down and realised that he was going to hurt his brother if he wasn't careful. I got to Chaime before he tried to attack Jason, and realised belatedly, that he hadn't even moved. I reached up and wiped the bleeding cut with my thumb, sucking the blood off without really thinking about it. Chaime peeled off the stitch plasters and threw them in the bin. Blood dripped onto his white t-shirt. I turned on Jason.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He ignored me, spitting his words at Chaime.

"Stay the hell away from my brothers, both of them. Don't you come near my house again. Bastard."

"Jason!"

"You can't trust him Alex. He betrays people. He's just in it for kicks. Isn't that right Jaime? You couldn't be happy screwing up everyone else's life so you had to start on Alex."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar!"

"Enough!" River took charge admirably, "Jason, go back to your room, Alex, keep Jaime here. I for one do not want to explain all this noise to our parents." He began prodding Jason's chest, "Come on Big Guy, keep walking." Somehow he managed to get Jason out of the room and got the door closed. I handed Chaime the clothes and went to stand by the desk, not looking at him as he changed.

"Chaime? What's all this about?"

"Do we have to talk about it now?" He sounded exhausted.

"No. I guess not. But as soon as you go I'm going to get Jason's side of things."

He didn't reply, just hung his head.

"Do you like me?" I walked over to him, hand on his arm.

"I kiss you don't I?" Chaime flashed me a smile that made my heart turn over.

"Is Jason right? Is this all a game to you?" I stared at him at I spoke, almost daring him to break eye contact, "Are you just gonna have your fun and then dump me when you're done? I don't want that. I like you."

"I promise I'm not playing around. I like you too."

"You hardly know me."

"Ditto."

"Well then..." I found myself blushing and dipped my head.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes please."

That kiss was even better than the last. He wasn't wet and shaking for one, but his lips were coloured by the blood from his chin, fresh and red. It smudged on my lips, bringing colour to my face. Chaime's arms around me were strong and safe and I wanted nothing more than to stay there forever. He put his hand up the back of my shirt and I shuddered, pulling away a little. He stayed for a couple of hours until it got late and the rain stopped. I kissed him goodnight on the doorstep and watched him ride away into the night.

Come Monday morning, the last week of school, the Friday night I'd spent in Chaime's arms seemed a cold and distant memory, and a bad idea in lieu of what was happening at school. The teachers didn't try to control the madness, half of which they simply assumed was Christmas fervour, wanting to get out of school as soon as possible. It wasn't. The school buzzed with rumours, about me, about Chris, and about Chaime. They were some interesting variations, including ones in which River was apparently going out with Chris. The younger of the Ford brothers tracked river and I down at lunch. He was still in his sports gear, studded football boots clattering on the concrete slabs. He'd brought most of the team with him, or so it seemed. River and I had been abandoned by our respective friends, and were being bothered by girls. In a way, River was enjoying the attention. He was at that age where the opposite sex, for most, became highly interesting. He quickly started to dispel the rumours about himself by stealing the first kiss of the most beautiful girl in his year. It wasn't fair, he was two years younger than me and got his first kiss only two days after I'd got mine. In addition to Chris's mud and football look, he was sporting a black eye, a real shiner, even on his tan skin.

"Oy, poof!" The cry came from over the other side of the quad, loud enough for everyone to have a look around and take up prime viewing positions. The girls scattered, leaving River and I feeling a little exposed. Chris came striding over, right up close, filling my field of vision, "So, when did you start fucking my brother?"

I raised an eyebrow. I'd heard all the rumours earlier that morning, so the time to be shocked was over. Being laid back was all I had, since defensive was likely to get me into a fight, something I really couldn't afford.

"We're going out."

Chris turned to his football louts, all of whom were sniggering or looking disgusted.

"You don't even deny it? That's disgusting! You have any idea how many other people he's had his cock inside of?"

"I don't think I give a shit what you say Chris." The second I'd said it, I knew it was the wrong move. Chris looked livid, my heart hammered so fast I thought I was going to die. And right there, when I felt for sure, he was going to hit me, my little brother executed a neat left hook a boxer would be proud of. It was an over simplified karate move and River stood his ground, tense, eager even, and to my surprise the footballers backed off. Attacking a younger student, who was basically alone, none of them wanted to be pulled up on that bullying charge.

Chaime was waiting for me when we got home. I dumped my school stuff and headed out with him on his motorbike. This was the red and black monster again, and Chaime looked very fetching in his matching leathers. We sat on a fallen log under a bare branched tree in the middle of a flat fallow field, the bike parked away by the road, but well within plain view. Chaime opened his jacket and put his arm around my shoulders. I fitted there nicely, curled against his warm chest. What Chris has said rang in my ears.

"What's the matter Ghost? Is bad stuff happening at school again?" He looked down at me, his dark eyes like molten chocolate. I wanted so much just then to drown in them.

"My brother gave Chris a good punch for his money."

"Did he deserve it?"

"Yes..."

Chaime raised an eyebrow.

"What did he say?"

I clammed up, gulped my words back down and tried again. It all sounded so stupid, even in my head. I decided to change the subject.

"So what's the story with you and Jason?"

"Hmm... that. Did he tell you anything? Well, I guess I'd better straighten it out. I know he can't stand me. When I was in my last year at school, which I think was just before you got there, there was this girl he really liked. I knew that, and I never meant to hurt him, but we were at this party, and we were all quite drunk. And all I really remember is her dragging me upstairs and then waking up the next morning very much naked. Then when we were together at college I sort of ended up seducing his best friend. It was an accident, I swear, I didn't mean to lead him on, but I kind of broke the poor boy's heart. Jason never forgave me for what I did." Chaime finished up, staring at the wind tossed branches above us, watching the sky go past, "So what did Chris say about me today?"

"He was... um... that is," I could hardly bring myself to ask him the question, "How many other people have you been with?"

"Bastard," I could tell he was talking about Chris, not me, then, "Four in total. The girl I don't remember, then there was another girl, one night stand and I discovered halfway through that I could stand girls in any way. Then there was David. We got together twice and only got a little further than you and me have. And then Adam, who was a brutal fuckwit. I couldn't stand him, he really was a complete bastard."

"Did you have sex with him?"

"Yes. Does that bother you?"

I nodded tightly, closing my eyes to stop the tears I knew would flow if I tried to speak.

"I'm not going to say I'm sorry. I don't want to lie to you. But if it helps, I'd never cheat on you, I promise. It's you I want."

I sniffed into his collar bone, feeling the smoothness of his chest under my fingers, picking out the lines where I knew his tattoos by heart.

"Did you know that your brother is in love with you?"

"Yes," Chaime looked pained, "I've known for ages. We've discussed it. That's why I got together with Adam, to try and put him off. We're only half brother's you know. My father died when I was one. That's why we look so different. We both take after mum, but I'm darker than he is, and he'll never be as tall as me, hasn't got the legs for it."

"If I go out with you, Chris is going to try and kill me."

"I'll protect you."

I looked up at him then, and I believed him. He pressed his lips to my forehead and it was the most intimate thing I'd ever known.

"I'll protect you. Go out with me, let me call you mine. My boyfriend."

"Yes."

The week past so slowly. Class was hell, the teachers didn't try and make us learn anything, chaotic classrooms full of gossip and films. But at least no one could be openly hostile right under the teacher's nose. I hated having to hang around in between classes, the gossip getting to me at last. Chris spread a lot of it, going on about how he'd caught Chaime and I 'in the act'. River and I stuck together as much as we could, but Jason was off college by then and he came around on his bike at break and lunch and the three of us stood by the school gate and chatted. River was quite proud of his new reputation, Jason clapped him one across the top of the head and said no more, because secretly he was proud too. I decided that it was best just to hold on until school let out, and by the time we got back after Christmas, all of this would be over. Chaime turned up outside the school gate on Wednesday after school came out and was swamped by kids, mostly Chris's friends, asking about his 'bitch'. Chaime flung three of them to the floor before rounding on his brother, giving him a look that would have burned him alive if such a thing was possible, kicking the bike into life and riding off, me clinging round his waist, glad I couldn't hear the yells that followed us over the engine noise.

We rode into Brighton, a long way when the longest trip I'd spent on a bike was about fifteen minutes tops. The city was all lights and music this close to Christmas, it being dark and everything this early in the day. Chaime parked up in a well-to-do bike garage and sales arena. We wandered around, me gaping in awe at the gorgeous sleek bikes and the beautiful gear that went with them while Chaime haggled over the price of engine parts and booked a test drive for a Kawasaki. It was a lean, bright green thing, all black and chrome under that and possibly the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen. Chaime put his arm round me and winked at the guy behind the desk, who raised but a single eyebrow in surprise. We went into the back, where the scent of leather permeated the air. Chaime spent an extraordinary amount of money on what I later learned was a very good deal. Dainese gauntlets, boots and jacket, plus an Alpine Star jacket with a big red logo on the back, another set of gloves, Kevlar padded jeans and two standard issue Harley Davidson t-shirts. He shoved some of this stuff at me and told me to get changed.

We really did look like a pair on our way out of there. Matching T-shirts, and me in my new gear. Alpine Star to go with the helmet under my arm, jacket, gloves and the funky jeans. Chaime decided I needed a new pair of boots too and we ended up swapping my heavily used school shoes for a pair of black Doc Martins. Chaime, arm around my shoulders, kissed me in the middle of the busy street and said that it was my Christmas present. I couldn't work out if he meant the gear or the kiss or both. We left the bike in the secure lock up of the garage, which was owned by a friend of his whom he often did work for and went for a walk. The city was beautiful. I felt good in my new clothes, they were heavy and quite unlike anything I'd ever worn before. My hair was very white against the night sky. We sat on a bench at the seafront and watched the last of the sun's light bleed across the sea, like a scar. I snuggled under Chaime's arm, cradled against his chest, my ear pressed to his heart. I loved the noise, the slow double thud that kept him alive.