Page 68 of Freshman

“I’m going to have to report you, have your cell searched. I can’t pretend like I don’t know—”

“You could report me, they would search my cell, find nothing, and Ryan would think you were overreacting or you could keep your mouth shut and enjoy the sound of my voice, ’cause I know you do.”

Alfie drew his eyebrows together and shook his head. “Nate, you can’t call me. I have to report you.”

“We both know you won’t. Just imagine I’m your hot boyfriend overseas, and we can only talk on the phone. You miss me, want me to come home to you, but you accept you have to wait for now.”

Alfie released his hair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “But you’re not. You’re in prison for murder, and I’m your prison officer.”

Nate tutted. “Spoilsport. Hear you later.”

The phone went dead, and Alfie glared at it, wondering what to do.

Alfie forced food into his stomach while staring into space, and he took his time as he walked to work that night. He knew he had to report the phone, tell Ryan about Nate’s call, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He stayed quiet during the briefing, and at roll call he stared at Nate’s cell.

“Hand it over now, and no one gets in trouble,” he whispered.

“Okay, just open the hatch, and I’ll pass it through.”

Alfie narrowed his eyes. “You must think I’m stupid.”

Nate laughed. “You’re the one that suggested handing it over, Freshman, not me.”

Alfie huffed and shifted from foot to foot. “Whatever, you can’t call me, and I’ll get your cell searched—”

“It would’ve been searched as soon as you got in if you grassed on me.”

“I was giving you a chance, a chance to be good.”

Nate groaned. “I’m bad; that’s why I’m in here, and I want to do bad things to you.”

Alfie swallowed uncomfortably. “Bad?”

“Well, not bad—naughty. I want to do naughty things to you. I want to make you moan and gasp my name. I want your body to shiver and shudder under my touch and you to lose yourself being owned by me.”

Alfie released a slow breath through his lips. He forced himself to take another deep breath, as quietly as possible, then released it like a gentle wind.

“Turns you on, doesn’t it? Drives me crazy too.”

Alfie looked down at the clipboard in his hand, then ticked off Nate’s name. “Just because you call, doesn’t mean I’ll pick up.”

“But the option is there. That’s all I want, for you to consider. Let me court you a little.”

“Court…me?”

“Yeah.”

Alfie hugged the clipboard to his chest and left Nate in the dark corner of the prison.

He promised himself he wouldn’t answer the phone if Nate called, but he made sure it was fully charged and at its highest volume before falling to sleep.

It didn’t ring, and Alfie hated the sting of disappointment that followed him all the way to work. Each day Alfie waited for Nate to call, but it never happened, and by Friday he was angry with himself for caring.

It was Sunday, a much-needed day away from the prison and respite from the constant disappointment at Nate for never calling. Alfie stepped out his front door, and instead of turning left and following the signs to Larkwood, he turned right and walked with his hands shoved in his coat pockets towards the bus stop. Each step away from the prison felt like a shackle was loosening, and when he finally arrived in town and stepped into Mr Cuppa, he felt lighter than he had in days.

Tia waved at him and gestured him closer. There was a queue of people, but she ignored them and moved along the counter straight to Alfie. She pulled him into a hug, and they both groaned with the stretch.

“What can I get you?” she asked.

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