Page 64 of The Freshman

Alfie jolted away from Nate’s door andretreated to Queenie’s to get his clothes on. He buckled his belttoo tight, slipped the buttons of his shirt in the wrong holes andhe couldn’t fix his tie with his hands trembling so much. His fleshstuck to his clothes, a cool sweat that made him shudder. He felttoo hot, and too cold, and itchy all over. Then a dull ache grewwhere Nate’s cock had been. Each slight movement he felt it. Notjust a lingering pressure, but a wetness from Nate’sorgasm.

He had slept with Nate, just like hewanted, but he had jumped over an unforgivable line.

“Talk to me,” Natemumbled.

Alfie shook his head and squeezed hiseyes shut. “Just shut up. Shut up.”

He heard the bed creak in Queenie’scell. “What’s going on, Nate?”

“Not now,Queenie!”

Alfie clutched at his throat, thetraitorous throat he surrendered so easily. It felt tight, like theuniverse was throttling him for giving into desire. He sunk downagainst Queeine’s door, rasping for breath.

“Freshman!”

He covered his ears at Nate’s shoutand curled into the edge of the door. He was shaking, and the hatchrattled. His heart pounded so hard it shook his chest, and thecollar of his shirt tightened like a coiling snake.

“Breathe nice andslow.”

The words got through the cracks ofhis fingers, not Nate’s but Queenie’s softer tone. With everythingsharp and edgy, it was Queenie’s smooth voice that filled in thecracks.

“Relax, Alfie. It’s apanic attack.”

The words panic and attack didn’t helphim relax. He rubbed the back of his head to the cell, heaving forair that didn’t satisfy him.

“Breathe nice and slow, inand out. With me.”

Alfie lowered his hands and listenedto Queenie breathe. Nate was no longer shouting, and there was nosound from his cell.

All Alfie could hear was Queenie. Thepresence by the door wasn’t confusing and suffocating. Queenie hada lightness, had a friendliness that Nate didn’t possess. Heremembered Queenie’s smile from the corridor. He had lifted his redlips in genuine happiness at seeing him.

“That’s it, Alfie. Let’sget you back to normal again.”

He nodded, braced his hands on thefloor, and got to his feet. He swayed slightly and gripped therail. He wanted to thank Queenie but thought the sound of hiswrecked voice would set him off again.

Alfie stared down at his feet as heforced one to move then the other. His hand was so tight on therailing his flesh turned stark white, and his movements were slowand stilted.

Henry waited for him at the gate withhis arms crossed, but when he came out of the shadows and into thelobby lights, Henry’s mouth dropped in shock.

“What the hellhappened?”

Alfie flicked his head back, but itfelt stiff as he moved. “I feel like shit.”

“You look like shit,”Henry said.

Glen appeared from the office, shakinghis head. “Jesus, Alfie, you don’t look good…”

Marie followed behind him, fringemessy and lipstick smudged. “You been sick?”

Alfie clutched at the idea and nodded.“Yeah, by the cells.”

“Why didn’t you just saythat instead of spewing rubbish about the pipes.”

Alfie shrugged. “Thought I’d keep itsecret.”

Henry’s face tightened in disgust.“Nice, guess I’ll have to clear it up.”

Alfie shook his head. “It’s sorted,not much. I went back in there to apologize.”

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