Chapter eight

Chris and Dalmir sat in silence, staring at the TV screen. Dalmir cleared his throat for the fifth since the start of the film.

"Are you sure you don't want a glass water, i could get a beer from the fridge,"

"What brand?"

Chris shrugged, "Never touched the stuff, it's from the local brewery."

"I'm good," he answered, his voice its usual indifference.

Soon the film ended, and shortly after Chris followed Dalmir to the door.

"I'll talk to you later," Chris said in a way of a farewell.

Dalmir nodded, standing awkwardly. Chris put out his fist in between himself and Dalmir, a moment of panic, as Dalmir stared down at it with puzzlement. He bumped his fist to Chris's unsurely, pulling back with a childish wiggling of his fingers. They stood in silence and finally Dalmir spoke.

"I'm gonna go,"he turned, leaving through the front door.

Chris heard a snorting laughter as he twisted himself round to see Amy sitting on the stair. “That, was.” she breathed, “the most awkward thing i have ever had the grace of seeing.”

Chris frowned, “i don’t know what to do when he just stands there? I panic, alright.” he defended himself. 

Amy put her hands up. "okay, okay. Why are the two of you even friends?"

"We just get on,” Chris muttered annoyed.

Amy smirked, “sure.” she spoke musically.

Chris groaned, stomping up the stairs past Amy, shoving her a bit to the side, she only laughed at his harsh action watching as he stormed away like an angry toddler. Chris slammed his door, feeling the house shake with the force.

He laid on his bed as he received a call from James. “Hello,” Chris said, picking up.

“Hey, come down to the pier, Matius literally just got into a fight with a seagull over a tuna sandwich.”

“It’s too cold,” Chris groaned.

“Then wear a coat, come on, you seriously can’t miss this, he’s not giving up and neither is the bird-oh shit, it’s pecking his hand. Fuck, Matius!” he yelled, “Matius! Let go!” there was a sound of rummaging. "Oh my God, another one just joined, shit really Chris you need to see this."

"I'm sorry James i can't-"

"Your not staying home, doing bloody research. Your weird oppression can wait. This is a one in a lifetime-No!" He screamed, "the stupid fucking birds tricked him." There was silence for a long time on the phone.

"I'm not coming," Chris finally groaned again.

"Just get to the pier." James commanded.

Chris groaned louder, sighing. "Fine,"

Chris hung up before James could say anything else, rolling off his bed, he quickly picked a cost off a pile of clothes, pushing his hands through the coat arms, and striding out the room. He nearly bumped into his brother, who towered over Chris shadowing him in the small hallway.

"where are you going?"

"To the pier, James practically begged me to come out. Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Day off." Micheal accounted for, "So what happened to that friend of yours? Dale was it?" He questioned.

"Dalmir," Chris corrected board like, "he left."

"After the most awkward thing I have ever seen," Amy giggled walking up the stairs with a hot mug in her hands. "I wish i filmed it, it was that bad."

Micheal turned around and gave Amy a pointed look, "I'm sure it wasn't that bad." Micheal assured,

"I gave him a fist bump," Chris murmured.

Micheal smiled shrugging a bit, "I'm sure your friend-" Chris looked up at his brother oddly for the way he said 'friend', but allowed for him to continue, "-was just as nervous," then proceeded to wink at Chris.

Chris stood looking up at his brother, frowned deeply "I'm leaving." He said in a bland voice shuffling past his giant of a brother and sister. He sighed when he walked past Amy, knowing then he was the smallest in his family, since her growth spurt at the end of September. He trudged down the stairs, his head hooked to the floor, grabbing open the door, and stepped out. The bitter cold slammed into him, biting at his ears and nose. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and began to move down the path towards the road. The sky was cloudy and Chris would guess it was going to rain that day. He looked to autumn leaves blowing in wind, groups travelling with one another in their colours of gold and red. The trees were bare of any leaf, and the bark seemed darker in the dreary light, no longer was Nereid a sunny seaside town, but a quiet empty one. Chris walked down the hill passing the creaking houses, traveling down through the towns centre, where many a towns person were shopping in packs of groups, parents out with their children, elderly couples taking walks. He soon arrived on the beach side, moving up to the pier, to the usual bench that he and his friends hung out about. He found James sitting like always on top of the bench with his feet resting on the benches seat, wearing a pair of light blue jeans and a black jumper, though Chris knew him to be cold, he looked cozy and warm, a blue backpack near his feet.

Chris sat next to him. "Hey," he said in a grumble, "where's Matius?"

"His arm wouldn't stop bleeding, he had to go down to A and E."

Chris turned to James, "and you didn't go with him."

"His dad wouldn't let me, said I was an idiot for watching, and not helping."

Chris smirked, "did you film it."

"If we're lucky we can play at his wedding." They both began to laugh.

"My brother was acting pretty strange before I left." Chris spoke, as James pulled a cigarette out from a pack, "what'd he do?" he asked, placing the cigarette between his teeth.

"He kept saying friend weird," Chris explained, "it was really bloody-" he tried to think of a word, landing on, "distracting."

James didn't speak lighting his cigarette.

Chris carried on, "he acted almost like Dalmir and i were-" but he stopped himself, sighing.

"You've been hanging out a lot lately with that Dale guy."

"Dalmir," Chris corrected again, "seriously why can't anyone get his name right?"

"Cause it weird."

Chris agreed after a moment, "okay yes. And that is a total lie, I haven't been that much, have i?"

"Ever since half term started Matius and i have hardly seen you."

Chris was silent for a minute, "Sorry," he mumbled, leaning his cheeks on his hands.

"It's fine, we get it, your making a-" and again someone said the word in a odd way "-friend,"

Before Chris could ask what he meant, James quickly handed out his cigarette. "Want some?" James offered.

"Quitting." Chris said, "thought it might reduce my asthma attacks."

James took a puff, "I'm pretty sure the damage has already been done,"

"I'm trying to better myself."

James narrowed his eyes, a small smirk at the edge of his lips, "sure."

Chris frowned, "what? Do you think I'm doing it for another reason?"

"Never said that," he defended himself.

"You didn't have to, it's written-" he gestured to James's whole face and body, with his hands waving about madly, "-on your face."

James shrugged, "you're paranoid."

Chris rolled his eyes. Looking out to the choppy cold sea, he had subdued the needing and longing over the long month and half, but it only grew stronger with every passing day, it was harder at night, when the moon was in the sky, it seemed to speak to Chris, urging him out into the night. But he resisted, and sealed his eyes shut, blocking out his ears, but the songs of the moon carried on in dreams and he could not make it stop. It drove him into madness, and at times he awoke wet and crying, others he would find cuts and bruises on his arms and throat. With the more time that passed the more Chris noticed the layer of shine on his arms were growing thicker, and spreading to the rest of his body. It terrified him, but he said nothing to his friends, to his family. 'It will go away.' he told himself, his gaze latching onto the sea, 'it will.'

James began to speak in a breath of smoke, "do you want to come with me to the care home?" He asked, "I'm going to see my granddad."

Chris shrugged lazily, "alright,"

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