Pull Me Under by Detand Zarah

Author:Detand, Zarah [Detand, Zarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-02-16T05:00:00+00:00

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Once again, they seek shelter for the evening. Ben would have preferred another night in Tizzano, but the wind has turned to originate from south-west, and they’re better off in the neighbouring port.

Propriano is slightly bigger, bustling in preparation for the high season, and Aaron disappears for a couple of hours into an internet café while Henry drags Jake to buy fish from one of the boats docked near the guildhall. Since Ben and Steve are smarter than the others, they elect to take a late afternoon nap in the shade of the sails.

Ben is startled out of his slumber by Henry’s phone, left behind in the waterproof container box they tie to a handle when they’re out at sea. Evil thing, Henry’s phone.

Rolling to his feet, Ben grabs it with a mind to mute the call. It’s Jamie’s name flashing across the display, bloody James, and briefly, Ben is tempted to throw the phone overboard. He could pass it off as an accident. Probably.

Since Ben isn’t actually five years old, he refrains. He has self-control.

When Henry and Jake return with five giltheads, they chatter about wanting to buy a harpoon to do their own hunting, eye to eye, man versus nature, etcetera. It doesn’t sound like a half-bad idea to Ben, even as Steve points out that it would mean they’d have to, “y’know, kill the fish you catch? Like, slit its neck, or something?”

“Your reality is not my cup of tea, man.” Jake shakes his head, scrunching up his nose. His face shows the beginning of a sunburn in spite of the sunscreen he’s been lathering on his body at regular intervals. Sucks to be pale and Irish, it really does.

Steve shrugs. “Reality doesn’t exist to please you.”

“It fucking should,” Jake says, dropping onto the towel Ben had spread out for himself. Since Henry chooses that moment to check his phone, brows furrowing at the missed call, Ben forgets to protest.

“I’ll be—” Henry gestures vaguely at the pier, already turning away. Ben fights down a frown, and he shouldn’t care, he shouldn’t, but who’s he kidding, really? Certainly not himself.

Henry walks a few steps on the pier, pausing in the shadow of a large motor yacht called Aqua-Holic as he raises his phone to his ear, only his profile visible. Too late, Ben remembers that Steve and Jake are right there, and when he forces his gaze away, it’s to find that Steve is watching him with a shrewd expression.

“What?” Ben asks, a little too defensively.

“Nothing.” Steve shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing. I’ll just... think I’ll go take a shower. Yeah.” With that, he sets off for the ladder leading into the belly of the boat, while Jake’s eyes are closed and he seems to be nodding off.

So that was... not particularly subtle.

Whatever, Ben will worry about being painfully transparent some other time. For now, he’s more concerned with how Henry is hunched into himself, head ducked so low it’s difficult to see his face. Screw James and their years of friendship, seriously; no one gets to make Henry look like this.

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