Chapter 9

After Jesse left I wanted nothing more than to lie in bed and wait to hear him through the wall, but Babaanne roped me in to help with the rest of clearing away. Dinner had gone really well, I'd avoided making doe eyes at Jesse the entire time, and managed to make some sort of sensible conversation with his mum. But now that I stood at the sink washing out the tagine I burned to be upstairs alone, or rather, not really alone.

"You're quiet tonight," Mum rubbed my shoulder as she filched a tea towel to start drying up, "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah mum," I smiled, just to let her know I was happy, "I'm fine. Thanks for dinner, it was excellent."

"Glad you thought so. So what did you and Jesse talk about upstairs."

"Not a lot, music and stuff," It was not entirely a lie. I started to say something else but mum spoke first.

"I want you to be careful Maxie," I stared at her, "I know he's new and Lord the boy will need friends but I don't want you two hanging out too much."

"Mum!"

"No you listen to me Maxie Tau," Mum put her hand on her hips, a sure sign she was mad, "He hit you, he broke that other boy's nose. He seems nice but looks can be deceptive and he is obviously violent. I don't want you spending time with him."

"That's enough Kizi-annesi," Babaanne stood in the doorway, "You leave the boy to make his own decisions." She looked at me and gestures to the stairs with her head, "On you go Küçük."

I fled the kitchen and left mum and grandmother to fight it out.

Music was playing softly through the wall when I reached my room and I settled softly on my bed to listen. Jesse was singing along to the song I knew too well, his voice low and soft, oh so sweet as he sang words that reminded me is close misty nights and snow storms.

"Can anyone fly into these grey skies?/Is there somewhere I'm meant to be?/Sea fog comes like a river/Rolls a stone it's rolling me..."

I tapped on the wall.

"Jes?"

There was the squeak of bed as Jesse adjusted his position.

"Hey..." his voice was soft still with hints of music, "Where were you?"

"Clearing up," I decided not to include my mother's outburst of opinion in my answer, "We need to talk about how this is going to work."

Jesse tapped twice on the wall.

"I'm serious. It's not like I go around kissing every unbelievably hot guy who moves in next door you know."

Jesse sniggered, and then his voice was close to me, speaking through the wall.

"Alright, sorry. So what do you want?"

"You mean besides you back on this side of the wall?" I chuckled and splayed my hand out on the wall, smooth plasterboard and paint under my fingers. "I want to be able to tell people Jes. I want you to be my boyfriend."

"I-I can't," Jesse's voice was thick to the point of breaking, "I mean I don't, I ... all I've done all day is think of you." I scratched at the wall, heard Jesse's hand moving six inches from my own, and then his voice came back, deeper, quoting from memory, "Of all the public places, dear/to make a scene, I've chosen here." Another pause, "OK Maxie. Maxie. This is my boyfriend Maxie."

I liked the sound of that.

I woke to the sound of my name in Jesse's voice, but not the way I'd learnt to like it.

"No! Maxie don't!"

There were the sounds of struggling thumps through the wall, Jesse thrashing in the sheets, and a half shout, unintelligible but pained.

"Jes?" I glanced at the clock, it was four in the morning, "Jesse?" There was no answer.i thumped on the wall hard enough to set the bone sin my fist shaking, "Jesse!"

"Maxie?" Jesse's voice was a groan, awake, dazed, and a long way off, I had a feeling he'd fallen out of bed.

"Jes are you OK?"

"Meet me out front?"

"Yes. Coming." I pulled on black sweats and a grey hoodie adorned with a yellow stag head and pattered down the stairs trainers in hand. I slipped out into the dark and Jesse arrived at the gate about the same second I did. As my eyes got used to the dark I could see the dark rings under his eyes, the haggard look of the recently haunted.

"Run with me?"

It was four in the morning, I was cold, tried and worried, so of course I agreed. I jogged side by side with my boyfriend and we puffed and panted clouds of dragon's breath along the lanes to the Paddocks. As we reached the grass Jesse began to walk shaking out his limbs like I'd come to see as his post run habit, forcing blood and oxygen back to the muscles that needed them.

"I fucking hate my subconscious."

I followed him, close to, tiredness being staved off by cold and worry.

"Are you going to elaborate on that or do I have to guess?" We reached the little copse of trees that sat in the centre hollow of the park, overlooked but shielded by steep green slopes and Jesse dropped down at the foot of the largest tree, apparently exhausted. I sat next to him and made very sure not to touch him. "What is it you dream about that hurts you so Jes? Why am I there?"

"It's not you." Jesse hung his head between his knees, "You remember I told you about the man who ... attacked me?"

The memory of the conversation flashed like a knife in my inner vision.

"Well, you look a bit like him. I mean you don't, he was older, and ... but he had the same colour skin, the dark hair. And I my dreams, he has your face." Jesse sniffed, I knew he was crying, "I want you so much it hurts and at the same time I'm terrified of you. And your, y'know wonderful and everything, and I'm just completely broken. I don't know why you've put up with me."

Carefully, and slowly, I reached out to touch Jesse's shoulder through the fabric of his sweatshirt. He didn't pull away. My hand when to the back of his neck, the warmth I had found there earlier, the fine downy hairs under my fingers. Jesse leant in towards me until he was curled against my side.

"You've never told anyone what happened have you?"

"No," Jesse's voice was small and petulant, suddenly a child.

"Tell me."

"No!" Jesse raised his head and stared at me in horror, but didn't break our contact, "I can't tell you. You'll be so disgusted you'll never touch me again."

"Jes..." I found my other hand in the dew wet grass and stroked his face, encouraging him to rest back on my shoulder, "Pretend that we're alone now, pretend the wall is here and just tell me."

Jesse shifted his weight, half turned and the warmth of his pressed along me, head in the crook of shoulder and neck; point of contact, arms, hips, ribs, knees. I wanted us to be stuck together. Then Jesse started speaking, slow, soft, his voice barely more than a whisper in the pre-dawn gloom. His stopped and started, paused for such lengths of time that I was sure he had fallen asleep, but he told me everything, and I managed not to interrupt.

A man, a complete and total stranger had attacked him in the Hyde Park public toilets. The man had smiled at him, Jesse had smiled back and as he had zipped up and turned to go he had felt a hand on his shoulder. He had turned, expecting to see that he's forgotten his bag or wallet or something, preparing to thank a kind and generous citizen; and was pushed into one of the stalls. He fell against the toilet and cistern, turning to face his attacker. He had caught him in the jaw, the same place he had hit me when he fell, but the older man had been stronger, obviously had a plan. Jesse had his head knocked against the wall, the cracked tile setting his skull ringing as the man pulled his jeans down, used Jesse's scarf to gag him and tie his hands. He had screamed to feel the fingers on him, pulling at his crotch, groping the flesh of his behind, man-handing his cock and balls as his underwear was torn away. He tried to fight, had his legs kicked out from under him, his head falling against the cistern every time. He bit his tongue when he screamed, the taste of blood, the cool tile on the open gash in his head. The man had pushed himself in and Jesse had cried with pain all through the rape, his agony turned to moans by the gag, his hips black and blue from the thrusts and grip of the man. He had cried all the harder when it was over, knowing this foul stranger had come inside him, had flooded him with evil. A cleaner had found him, broken on the floor of the stall, driven him to hospital. He'd given them a false name, told his parents he'd been in a fight.

"They gave me a full screening, and another after three months, "Jesse sighed as he finished telling me, "I'm lucky. I got away without permanent damage."

I bit back the comment that permanent damage had been done regardless of the health benefits of not also catching something, and wrapped my arm about his shoulders, bending my arm to hold the softness at the back of his neck. He leant further into me.

"You can't possibly want to be my boyfriend," he spoke like it was a fact, already decided and agreed upon, "I'm all broken and used. You deserve better."

I dug my fingers into the back of his neck and kept my voice level when I answered.

"I don't care. I hate that all that happened to you. I'd kill him if I ever got the chance. But I want you, I think I may even love you, and you saying otherwise isn't going to change that at all." I turned to look at him, to find cheeks wet with tears. I caught his jaw with one hand and turned his face to kiss him.

Jesse's lips were sweet and salt, tears blending with our kiss as I explored his mouth. Jesse's hands caught in the fabric of my hoodie, pulling me closer and as I wrapped my arm around his waist there was nothing to hold us up. I came down on top of him in the grass, kiss unbroken, the tangle of lips and limbs making my blood boil. I worked a hand to the front of Jesse's sweats and pressed against the hard heat I found there. Jesse gasped, his lips pulling from my own to drink the air as my hand closed around him. The muscles of his stomach jumped and danced under the ridden-up jumper and the sight made my heart do weird little flips. I pulled at the elastic waistband of his sweats, delighted to find that he'd gone commando like me.