Page 74 of Playing to Win

They stopped at the end of the street leading to Ground Zero. Colin went to the low concrete wall outside the churchyard fence and slumped down onto it. Then he jumped up quickly. “Och, my baws. I keep forgetting.” He smoothed the back of his kilt beneath himself as he sat again, carefully this time.

Andrew sat beside him and leaned back against the fence. There were still a few pedestrians about, but the street had a hushed quality, as if every passerby walked more slowly, spoke more softly, out of reverence for what had happened here over a dozen years ago.

Colin sat forward, elbows on his knees, head bowed as if in prayer. Andrew waited, knowing there was nothing to be said. The white roses growing on the other side of the churchyard fence released their heady scent into the humid summer night air.

“This doesnae make it okay, you know,” Colin said finally.

“Make what okay?”

“The wars.” The word came out a strangled whisper. “Aye, they got attacked, but did they have to ruin the world?”

“Well, there’s loads of evidence that President Bush would’ve invaded Iraq no matter what. 9/11 was just an excuse. There was no connection.”

“I know.” Colin rubbed his forehead. “And we had to join his madness because of our ‘special relationship.’”

“That, and the fact it was down to us Iraq was a mess to begin with.”

“How?”

“Britain drew Iraq’s boundaries to keep the oil away from the Turks. We forced tribes who hated one another to form a country. Sunnis, Shiites, Kurds—that’s not a nation, that’s a recipe for a time bomb. Iraq was Britain’s cross to bear as much as America’s.”

“I guess.” Colin sighed. “SeeingAmerican Idiottonight brought it all back.”

“Your uncle?”

He nodded. “I wonder sometimes if James knew I was gay before I did. He never asked me, of course—I was only nine—but he mentioned mates of his who were gay and how they were cool, and how it didn’t bother him. It stuck with me. Later I looked back, during those years when I felt so fucking alone, and realized James would’ve been there for me.” Colin swiped his wrist over his nose. “He would’ve been there for me, if he’d not been turned into hamburger meat by an IED so President Gas Man could have his wee wargasm.”

Andrew thought of the battle scene inAmerican Idiot, how the bodies had writhed on stage under red lights, how Colin’s posture had gone tight and straight in the seat beside him.

“Andrew…” he whispered, giving him a shock straight down his spine. Until now, Colin had never spoken his name without a mocking tone. “Andrew, can’t you see? If Scotland were independent, naebody would hate us. Naebody would bomb us. And nae more Scots would have to die in the desert.”

“I do see that,” Andrew whispered. How could he not?

“We could just be us, you know? Just us. Not part of an empire. Not part of the world’s dickhead police force.” Colin slouched forward again, elbows on his knees. “I’m not fuckin’ Braveheart. I don’t want freedom for freedom’s sake. I just want the freedom not to be dickheads.”

The catch in his voice thickened Andrew’s throat. He put his arm around Colin’s shoulders. His other hand found Colin’s arm, where he stroked the scars that lay like barbed wire over the landscape of skin. His mind searched for words of comfort, though he knew none could mend the gaping hole the war had left in Colin’s heart, a hole filled with rage and sorrow.

“Sorry I ruined our threesome,” Colin murmured, still staring at the pavement between his feet.

“It was a stupid idea, and awful of me to ambush you with it. We should’ve had a calm, rational, honest discussion.”

“But I calmly, rationally, honestly wanted two tongues on my cock.”

Andrew smiled. “I know you did, love. I wanted it for you too.” He set his chin on Colin’s shoulder. “I would’ve called it off with Joey. It wouldn’t have worked.”

“Because I’m a bam.”

“No. Because I don’t want to share you.”

Colin said nothing.

Andrew’s stomach tightened. Had he confessed too much? “Did you hear me?”

Colin jerked his head up. “Is there a bin nearby? I need it.”

Andrew looked around. “I don’t see one. They probably worry about bombs. Why do you—” He stopped when he saw Colin’s face, clammy and pale, how his throat pulsed with hard swallows. “No. Not here.”

“Aye.”

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