Page 35 of Open Water

TOM: Lukas, I am so So SO sorry. I really need your help. Are you still awake?

LUKAS: What the fuck, Tom? What?

TOM: This kid turned up on my doorstep looking like a drenched rat.

LUKAS: NOT. MY. PROBLEM. Good night.

TOM: No, I know, but everything about him screams runaway kid. Kid who lives on the streets. Homeless. Trouble. He’s a student at Östra Real and a friend of Max’s. I just want to know if you know him. Is he safe?

LUKAS: What do you mean is he safe?

TOM: Is he one of these kids that are in trouble all the time?

LUKAS: Like your kid, Tom?

Ouch. That hurt. Yes. Tom is being a judgmental prick.

TOM: I just need to know if he will rob me blind as we sleep or if I should hug the shit out of the kid and feed him sandwiches?

LUKAS: Tom. Give the kid a hug and feed him sandwiches.

TOM: You don’t even know who this kid is, Lukas!

LUKAS: I am a teacher and I am bound by privacy laws. I can’t tell you anything.

TOM: His name is Matteo. Just tell me if I should be worried.

The phone is quiet. Too quiet. And the shower isn’t running anymore.

TOM: Please, Lukas.

LUKAS: Matteo is an amazing kid and he adores your son. Please feed him sandwiches and let him stay if he needs to. Now go look after him and then go to bed and leave me the fuck alone. I was asleep. Seriously, Tom, have you got no boundaries?

TOM: Thank you, thank you, thank you.

LUKAS: Oh, for fuck’s sake, Tom, what do I need to do to get rid of you?

TOM: That hurt, Lukas. Why do you have to be such a prick all the time?

LUKAS: Because you wind me up and drive me crazy! Arsehole!

Tom is cutting the bread. Thick, angry slices chopping the life out of the loaf. Buttering the poor slices until they look like shit. Slapping uneven slices of cheese on top and slamming the plate down as the microwave pings in the corner.

“Sorry,” the kid says in the doorway. Hair combed back and the bathrobe tight around his waist.

“Not your fault, kiddo.” Tom sighs. “I’m just having a chat with a friend who is being an idiot. Have a seat. I made you a hot chocolate. It’s carob powder, so low GI, but it tastes like the real thing.”

Matteo doesn’t look convinced but at least he takes the cup from Tom’s hand, sitting down on the chair at the table. Politely picking one of the crooked slices off the plate and taking a bite.

“I don’t know you, Matteo, but I know Max likes you. At the same time, I have to be honest with you, because I see kids like you every day, and everything about this screams trouble in my face. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“No?” Matteo is doing that scared face again. Like Tom is being a complete arse.

“What’s in the bag, kid? Because that bag has ‘runaway’ written all over it.”

“I’ve got nowhere to run away from,” Matteo snarls. “Look. If you have a problem with me being Max’s friend, then that’s seriously not cool. He’s cool and he makes me laugh and I just wanted to check on him. That he’s okay. I can leave as soon as I’ve seen him.”

“I have no problem with you being Max’s friend. Max needs all the friends he can get and from what I understand, he thinks you are pretty awesome too.”

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