Page 21 of Pansies

“I’m sorry.” Greg looked about thirty percent contrite. “Please continue.”

Alfie sighed. “So, I met this guy, and he was sort of odd, but sort of sweet as well, and at first I thought he didn’t like me, but then he seemed toreallylike me, and then he didn’t like me again. And it turned out we went to the same school.”

Greg and Kitty exchanged confused glances.

“Is that a big deal?” she asked, at last.

Alfie shook his head. “Not really. Except the thing is, I wasn’tvery nice to him back then. So it was messed up. I tried to say sorry, but he didn’t want to hear it.”

“Wait, was this before or after you slept with him?”

“After. I didn’t recognise him before.”

“Wow.” Greg stared at him wide-eyed. “Thatismessed up.”

“Well, why would I? I haven’t thought about any of that for years. And now he thinks I’m this evil bastard, which is fucking unfair because I’m not.”

Kitty leaned across the table. “Let me get this straight. You slept with a guy, and now you’re annoyed with him because you were horrible to him at school?”

“Yes. No. I mean. No. But it was a long time ago. And he threw plant water in my face.”

“Hewhat?”

“When I tried to apologise.”

“Plant water?”

“Yes, it’s bloody awful.”

One of Kitty’s brows twitched into a perfect, quizzical arch. “Is this like gay pepper spray?”

“No, this happened later. At his mum’s shop.”

“I’m so confused right now.” Greg propped his chin in a hand. “You had sex in his mum’s shop? My word.”

“No, I went there after he ran away from me.”

“He ran away from you?”

“No, no, not like that.” Alfie drank most of his Old Fashioned, pink peppercorns or not. “You’re making this sound way worse than it was.”

“Darling”—Greg seemed to be stuck somewhere between sympathetic and appalled—“I’m not sure I could if I tried.”

“This isn’t my fault,” muttered Alfie. “I was trying to make it right. And he threw things at me.”

“Because you wouldn’t leave him alone, by the sounds of it.” Greg’s voice was gentler than his words, but not by much.

“I didn’t want to leave him alone. I liked him.”

There was another long silence.

“Well,” said Kitty, “if that’s how you treat people you like, I can see why he started throwing things.”

Alfie’s carefully nurtured sense of resentment popped out of existence like a soap bubble. “Oh fuck.” He slumped onto the table. “I’ve fucked this up, haven’t I?”

They exchanged looks.

Greg shrugged. “Our survey says…yes.”

---