The Sound of Water (BoyxBoy)

9

Jacob left over an hour ago.

I wanted him to stay. I wanted him to go. I need to kiss him again. Fuck. I stab a piece of roasted potato on my plate, jamming the starchy vegetable into my mouth and avoiding eye contact with my Mum.

Nazzim was right, he was so, so , so right.

I like Jacob King.

Like, really, really, really like him.

I've never liked potato, it tastes like absolutely nothing and always gets stuck in your throat when you swallow it. There's no appeal, unless maybe in a bunch of fried chips. But then it tastes like salt and oil - not potato. I wonder if Jacob likes potatoes, he probably doesn't. I think he does like avocado sandwiches though, seeing as he always has a dark rye, avocado and goat's cheese sandwich at lunchtime.

Does Jacob even want to kiss me again? What if it was terrible, and he hates me now? Or worse, what if it was a joke, and he never actually meant it? Or, what if my family scared him off and he never talks to me again?

I stab another potato.

But...what if he wants to hold my hand? And what if he wants to wait at each other's lockers in the mornings at school? And what if he wants to watch one of my soccer games? And what if I could freely mess up his already messy hair? And what if I could hold his sand-paper eczema hands when his fingertips turn red from the cold coastal air?

'You should invite Jacob over for dinner on Friday,' John says casually, breaking the heavy silence that has hung in the air since Jacob left.

I look up, swallowing my mouthful of tasteless starch.

'Mn,' Mum cups her chin in her hand, 'he's over that often anyway, I think it's about time we feed him a classic Peter Flynn cook-up.'

I look down at my half-empty plate.

They stay silent for a bit.

Then- 'he's very cute Peter,' Mum smiles at me, 'I like him a lot.'

'You don't mind?'

'Oh, Peter, sweetie...I've known for years.'

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