Steve gets to the front door first. Only after he shoves me into the couch to get past me. And he only really fought me to get there because I said I have friends coming over. Which is a big deal for him since I only really consider him my friend. So this chance to him is probably like a week of sunshine to vacationers in London.

Adrian’s a good distance away from the front door, but Murph looks just happy to be there. “Hi,” he starts, smiling.

I glare. And it hurts. Because now is not the time for the dimples, Murph.

But then he sees my face and shouts, “Oh my God! Tommy, what happened?”

Apparently, I'm not that pretty anymore. Haven't bothered to look in a mirror yet.

Probably deserved it, too.

Steve steps back and lets them into the front hall. “We’re the first door. 1A.” He’s breathless.

“Thanks,” says Adrian as he side-eyes me and Steve. “I...I was a little skeptical about the address at first, but...” He can't seem to stop looking at me. “Shouldn't he go to a doctor or something?”

“The fuck's that supposed to mean?” I ask.

He looks to Steve, then back to me. “Which part? You look terrible, or my assuming you were lying about the address?”

I point to Steve. “He got the place. I’m just mooching.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding his head slowly. “That makes sense.” Then he steps passed me to shake hands with Steve or something.

“Tommy,” Murph says, stepping up. His hands reach out to touch my face. He doesn't, though. “Uh, h-have you, um...thrown up recently? Unable to remember things? Difficulty balancing?”

I nod. “'m fine. Promise.”

He pulls out his phone. “I'm calling a doctor. You might have a concussion.” Then he looks at me. “What's the number for the hospital?”

Oh my God. I take his phone. “Murph, I'm fine. Promise.”

He doesn't seem convinced by it. “You just...” Murph frowns and takes his phone back. “You sure you're all right?”

Steve steps forward. “He'll be fine.” He pats my shoulder. “Usually, anyways.”

Fuck you, Steve.

“Y-you have a very nice apartment,” he says, holding out his hand to Steve. “I’m Murph.”

Steve shakes his hand. “It’s nice to meet – woah.” He stops and eyes Murph’s hands. “S-sorry. ’m Steve. Nice to meet you.”

Murph smiles warily at me, and he proceeds forward into our flat.

Steve eyes me as he closes the front door. “Want a piece of that action, mate?” he asks, reaching out for my hand.

I’m pissed off. I don't want to talk about this right now. My head's killing me and I just want to crawl back into bed. I grab his collar and whisper, “Shut up.” I wait for Adrian to go in before hissing, “Yes.”

He nods. He looks at his hands for a second. “That was also the best soft handshake I've ever gotten. Like…woah. I wanna hold his hand.”

“And you’re not even into that gay shit.”

“Right?” he asks, grinning.

“Are you done?” Adrian calls from our front lounge. “Because we could've taken some stuff by now.”

“Adrian!”

Steve goes first, if only to make sure that Adrian’s threat isn’t real. Then Murph pokes his head out and says, “I’m sorry. You know he’s kidding, right?”

I smirk. “Yeah, I do.”

He smiles. “Oh, thank God. I was worried – ”

“Mate, you’re fine. Adrian talks a great game, but is all bark and no bite.”

“Excuse you, I once stole an entire Lego set from a friend’s house!”

I harrumph. I shake my head at Murph. “Don't believe it.”

But then Adrian shouts back with, “It was a big Lego set!”

I roll my eyes as Murph pushes open the door to my flat. “Where are we going today?”

Murph takes in a slow breath and asks, “...are you sure you're okay to come with us?”

I nod. It hurts. “I can just take some more painkillers 'r somethin'.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do ya want me to say 'no'?”

“I want to know you're okay.”

The look on his face. Fuck. There's nothing about it that makes me think he's making it up. He's probably ready to stare me down because he cares so much.

I shift my weight to one foot and swallow. I look away for a second. “I'll be fine.” I pause. “Been in worse scrapes than this.”

Murph starts talking, although I don't know if he's bought what I said, but it occurs to me that it’s the twenty-ninth. I don’t know how many days there are until May, but it’s now this countdown until they go back to America, and life goes on. As if they never really came over in the first place.

And something twists in me.

“Are you okay?” Murph asks.

I realise I’m making this weird, constipated face and I shake my head.

“What?” he asks.

“You still lookin' for someone to go to York with?”

His sad face comes back. “Yeah. Well, Adrian can’t go because he has an exam he needs to prepare for the next week. And since you said you can't go because you need to...” Then he perks up. “Why're you asking?”

“I can come.” I have to move a ton of shit around, but I could do it.

He jumps up and down in place. Like an excited kid. “Yay!” he exclaims, and then turns back into my flat. “Adrian! He said he'd go!”

“Good. Now will you let me study for my modules?”

“Yes!” Murph’s smile shrinks a little, but then he turns back to me. “And I know you’re probably not into trains, or history, at all, but I will try to be entertaining for you.”

I smirk. It hurts a little.

But the truth is, he already is kinda entertaining in his own right.

I step past him into my flat. “Where are we going today?” I ask again.

Murph opens his mouth, probably to ask me again if I'm okay, but then he shuts it. “Oh...uh, we were...we were thinking of going to one of the markets in Camden. Is that okay?” He pauses. “Be– because I knew you were expecting me to say a museum.”

I shrug. “I’ll survive.”

He smiles, I push passed him, and he closes the door.