Page 88 of The Rat

“No, I haven’t.”

“Wanna talk aboutit?”

Sebastian shook his head. “Notreally.”

“What do you want todo?”

“I might go outside andwatch soccer…”

“Can I come, too?” Rory waited forSebastian to turn him down, but Sebastian gave him a consideringlook, then mumbled.

“If you want.”

“Yeah, I want.”

The benches were taken, andSebastian led Rory away from the bins. He leaned against the wall,then pulled Rory back to his chest. The guilt-happiness comboassaultedRory again, and he tried to push it away, squash it, but it wasimpossible. Sebastian’s arms were around him, holding him tight,and his chin rested on the top of Rory’s hair. The embrace made hisheart flutter, but his stomach sour, and his head hurt.

They stayed in the same positionin completesilence. Rory wasn’t really watching the inmates play soccer, andhe doubted Sebastian was either. The sun started to go down, andlit up the yard in an orange glow.

“When I get out, one of the firstplaces I’m gonna go is the beach.”

“The beach?”

“Rashford Pier. Ever been?”

Rory shook his head.

“My grandparents had a caravannearby, and I used to go stay there for a few weeks in the summer.Thepier hadthis arcade, and I spent my time cheating other kids out of theirpennies.”

“You were always anassholethen?”

Sebastian chuckled. “Guessyoucouldcall me that. I call it being clever.”

“How modest.”

“I’d trick money out of them.Card games, magic stones—”

“Magic stones?”

“I’d claim thatsome pebble on thebeach had special qualities.”

“And the kidsbelievedthat?”

“I could be convincing,evenbackthen. Every year I went to that pier, and for those two weeks, Ifelt powerful, I felt clever, I felt good.”

Rory lowered his head. “Why are yousaying all this?”

“I don’t know. I wanna go backthere. I wantto remember what that felt like.”

“Butyou are powerful, you are clever, andyou are good.”

“I’m not, Rory. I had a plan, andit’s gone wrong, and I don’t feel powerful or clever, or good. Ifeel the opposite. I feel like a game’s been taken out of my hands. I feel likeI’m losing, and I have no idea how to turn it around.”

“You’ve still got time to turn itaround, to win. It’s like chess, you could be down to your lastpiece, but it’s not over until it’staken.”

“My last piece has already beentaken. Theboard’s empty, my opponent just doesn’t realize ityet.”

ChapterSixteen

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