Page 5 of Yearning Difficulties

When Dave scowled, Killian spoke in a mock whisper. ‘Do you need me to wait while you look up who Tarrare is? It’s totally okay to google him, I know you don’t read books.’

‘Too mean, Killian,’ I said under my breath. ‘Too mean.’

More laughter. A few shouts of encouragement. Killian could see the word still swirling around in Dave’s mouth and so could I. He had nothing else. ‘Freak’ was all he could wield. It was the only weapon in his arsenal. He was neurotypical and Killian was autistic. It was all Dave had on the other boy. The world had given Dave, as the more privileged party, a few words to beat Killian with – but that only worked if Killian lay down and took it.

Killian wasn’t like that.

Clearly, Killian had met hundreds like Dave in his life. This was nothing to him.

‘He’s so weird,’ Killian went on, dancing in place as he towered over his angry adversary, ‘that Del Toro and Fincher are fighting over the rights to make a film about him. There you go. A pop culture one for you.’

‘Get down,’ Dave snarled. ‘Or I’ll—’

‘You’ll what?’ interjected Killian, something dark suddenly entering his voice. ‘Call me another boring, uninspired slur? Let’s not. I’ll have heard it too many times before, from better people than you. Here’s some advice, Dave. Well, two pieces of advice. Number one, sunscreen!’

More snickers echoed throughout the room and even Dave’s entourage had started to move towards the exit.

‘Second! Don’t ever enter into a battle of wits with someone who’s actually armed. In this case, a jaded autistic nerd. You, Dave Valvert, are living proof that there’s no such thing as intelligent design. I envy people who haven’t met you.’

‘Enough!’ Dave choked out, moving to the exit. ‘Freak!’

The crowd of students groaned and jeered at his continued commitment to the unoriginal jibe but he was gone before they broke into applause for Killian. The latter laughed in surprise and gave a theatrical bow, peering up from his bent-over stance to meet my stare.

I gave a tiny shake of my head. He merely grinned.

I didn’t clap but I did watch as Dave stopped by the door. He fixed Killian with a look that could only be described as cunning.

‘And Freak?’ he called out. ‘Don’t think I don’t know the real reason you have a problem with me.’

I frowned. Dave had always disliked Killian but I didn’t know there to be any actual beef between the two of them.

‘You have me there, David,’ Killian said, his voice a little less cocky. ‘No idea what you’re referring to.’

‘Sure,’ Dave drawled. ‘You’ve got no idea. We’ll see, won’t we?’

The rest of the canteen had returned to eating and chattering but I kept my gaze on Killian as he straightened his posture, the amusement slowly draining from his face. He hopped off the table and turned his back on all remaining onlookers.

When Dave and his friends were gone, I picked up my BLT and sat down at a table by myself. When a shadow fell over me, I didn’t bother to look up.

‘Afternoon, Red.’

I didn’t acknowledge the nickname. ‘Quite a performance.’

He slid into the empty seat across from me. ‘Lunch date for one?’

‘And I got a show with it, too,’ I replied, in a voice like acid. I looked up at him. ‘Lucky me.’

He winced at that. ‘I tried going easy on him, Red. Is that why you’re alone? Did I scare every last one of your lot away?’

‘The thing about breaking up with one of the popular kids,’ I said, covering my mouth as I answered while chewing, ‘is that you’re then exiled from the entire pack.’

‘They sound awful.’

I shrugged one shoulder and took a sip from my giant water bottle.

‘You didn’t like my help this morning on the radio?’

‘Go back to your table.’