The Mute and the Liar (38 page)

Even
more
strange
is
that
he
turns
to
me
almost
accusingly,
as
though
I
am
somehow
to
blame
for
whatever
he
has
just
read
on
his
phone.
Eventually,
he
seems
to
drag
himself
out
of
his
initial
shock
and
begins
tapping
on
his
phone
again,
apparently
answering
the
distressing
text.
He
switches
off
his
phone
and
turns
back
to
me,
a
perfect
smile
carving
his
face
once more, as
though
that
never
happened.

Through
a
mouthful
of
crumbs,
he
pulls
out
another
topic
from
thin
air.
“
It
was
great
that
fire-eater
guy
used
my
lighter.
I
feel
all
famous
now.
I
can’t
wait
to
have
a
fag.
I
usually
have at
least
nine
a
day.
”

Clearly
a
lie!
I
wonder
how
stupid
he
thinks
I
am,
and
whether
he
thinks
I
actually
believe
anything
he
says.
Maybe
he
thinks
I
don’t
listen
to
him,
and
so
I
will
never
know
about
his
fabrications.
His
obvious
lies
are
getting
irritating.
Why
don’t
I
prove
to
him
that
he
can’t
just
say
whatever
he
wants
and
expect
people
to
buy
it?
That
will
certainly
teach
him
a
lesson.
I
begin
scribbling
a
message
on the
next
page of
this
notebook.

You don’t smoke.

“
Really?
And
why
do
you
say
that?
”
surprised,
he
raises
an
eyebrow
and
tilts
his
head
slightly
to
the
side.

You
have
been
by
my
side
for
over
eight
hours
now
and
you
have
not
smoked.
If
you
are
truly
a
chain
smoker,
as
you
claim,
that
would
be virtually
impossible.
But
the main
giveaway was
the
ashtray.

“
The ashtray?
”

You
knocked
over
the
ashtray
just
now.
A
true
chain
s
moke
r
who
has
not
smoked
in
over
eight
hours
would
have
immediately
seen
it,
yet
you
were
so
oblivious
to
it
that
you
knocked
it
over.
It’s
just
a
game
of
conceptual
schemes.
We
all
see
the
world
through
our
own
biased
perspectives
based
on our own
upbringing
and
experiences.

“
Hmm,
”
he
contemplates
this
idea
for
a
moment
and
then
seems
to
find
a
loophole
and grins.
“
So then
that
begs
the question: why do
I
have
a
lighter?
”
Brilliant!
I
know exactly how
to
answer
that.

That’s easy.
For protection. You’re
just a
scaredy-cat
really.

He
stares
at
me
incredulously
for
a
moment,
then
he
shakes
his
head
in
disbelief and breaks into
a
huge smile stretching
from
ear
to
ear
.

“
Wow…
Maybe…
Maybe
I
underestimated
you.
It
looks
like
I
won’t
need
the
lighter
for
protection
anymore
now
that
I
have
such
a
clever
companion.
”

I
feel my cheeks
burn
up
and
I
look
away,
but
I
also
realise
a
timid
smile is
creeping
in the
corners
of
my
lips.

Stop it.
Compose
yourself.

I
fix
my
scowl,
forcing
it
to
return
again.
I
only
look
back
at
Jayce
once
I
have made sure
that
smile,
no,
that
sign
of
weakness,
is
gone
for
good.

Jayce
has
finished
his
cheesecake
by
now,
having
scoffed
most
of
it
down
during
his
theorising
about
polar
bears.
Mine
still
stands
there,
untouched.
I
don’t
eat
anything
other
than
cereal
and
pasta
and
fruit
and
vegetables
.
It’s
just
something
I
do.
It’s
something
that
defines
me
-
my
little attempt
at
individuality.

I’m
not
saying
I’m
not
hungry.
Actually,
my
stomach
i
s
currently
making dying
whale
noises
.
It’s
just
that
I
don’t
want
to
start
breaking
traditions.
It’s
not
even
a
tradition;
it’s
a
foundation.
No
one
tears
down
the
bricks
of
a
house
or
digs
up
the
roots
of
a
tree.
If
I
start
now,
who
knows
when
I’ll
stop?
Suddenly
I
might
start
doing
something
reckless.
I
might
even
start
talking.
And
who
knows
where
that
will
leave me?

Jayce
notices my
mental
war
with
the
cheesecake
and
grins.

“
Eat
it. It’s
good, honestly.
”

This
tall,
gangly
boy
in
front
of
me.
I
was
so
scared
of
him
before.
Now,
sipping
his
coffee
in
the
seat
opposite,
he
just
looks
perfectly...
normal.
Someone
I
would
walk
right
past
in
a
street
and
take
absolutely
no
notice
of.
I've
got
so
many
questions
about
him.
Why
can't
I
solve
him?