Page 30 of Adonis

“I’m sorry about that, Connor,” Trevor said. “Regardless of where you were last night, what she said wasn’t kind or true. Suggesting that you’re a bad kid and not part of the family was uncalled for.”

Connor hesitated, noting the concern and worry in Trevor’s expression. Trevor was genuinely upset by what Edith had said. Connor’s guilt for the lie intensified.

“That was by far one of the mildest arguments I’ve had with my mom,” Connor said. Though he was both confused and grateful for Trevor’s concern, it didn’t come out in his voice; only the nonchalant, bored tone of a rotten teenager used to getting into trouble did. “Try to apologise for all of them, and you’ll get bored fairly fast.”

Trevor’s lips tugged even further down until it was more grimace than concern in his expression. “You always fight like this with each other?”

“You’re the strange one, Trevor,” Connor said. “You like your kids.”

Trevor took in a sharp breath like he’d been struck.

Connor had grown up with kids at boarding school, all packed miles and miles away from family where they could be forgotten for the majority of the year. Most kids barely even got a card on their birthday, and Connor was one of them. It wasn’t a strange or new concept to him for a parent to not like their child. His friends were all the same as him.

But Trevor looked at him like it was the most horrifying thing he’d ever been told, making Connor feel like something was wrong with his situation. A dulled, squashed voice whispered to him from inside,it is wrong.

“I’ll see you later.” Connor turned from Trevor before any hint of emotion showed on his face.

But even as he got into the Jeep, Trevor was at the window.

Connor rolled it down. “What?”

“It’s a Saturday,” Trevor pointed out. His brow was drawn in tight. “You don’t have to stay today. Do you want me to follow and drive you home afterwards?”

Connor’s gut reaction was no. He didn’t want to come back here or spend time with Trevor, who he sensed would pry more. But at the same time, he was well sick of the lab. Without the merman visiting anymore, he was bored.

He opened his mouth to lie. Say that he’d spend the day in the lab with his dad, but he hesitated as he thought of his mom’s accusation. That he was a bad child. That he was a liar. That he was different from Laurence and Nick and always would be.

“I’ll walk into the village after dropping the Jeep back. Maybe get breakfast somewhere,” Connor said.

“Do you need any money?”

“I’ll get some from Ben,” Connor said. So Trevorwasn’tgoing to go on about supervising him this weekend.

“Okay…can you wait here a moment?”

“Alright.”

Trevor went back into the house. A few moments later, he returned. He offered Connor a phone with a twenty-note tucked inside the transparent phone case.

“Laurence said you can borrow this. It’s unlocked, and my number is under ‘Dad,’” Trevor explained. “You can call when you want a ride home.”

Connor took the phone. “Laurence isn’t scared of me snooping?” he asked wryly.

“It will get you nowhere,” Trevor said with a small smile. “His texts are barely in English they’re so abbreviated.”

“And he doesn’t mind not having his phone for the day?”

“He doesn’t.”

Connor tucked the mobile into his pocket. “I won’t be too long, then.”

“Take as long as you want.”

*

If his dad was going to scold Connor for taking the Jeep, which he very much doubted, Connor didn’t stick around to find out. He dropped it off at the lab and walked into the village. It was a good hour on the road, and Connor had plenty to keep his mind occupied. As fantastical as the merman was, he only took up a small portion of Connor’s thoughts.

The town was quiet for now, only local cars lining the streets, but that wouldn’t last long. There was a warmth in the air that foretold of the summer months fast approaching. Connor went to Marty’s bookstore. It was a small building, cramped with bursting bookcases and towers of second-hand novels with a small till hidden in the corner. An older man with hobbled shoulders and stark white hair occupied the stool.