Chapter 8: “No bugger else here thinks like him.”
Luca lost his temper.
It took a lot to get Luca to do it. But calling him a faggot? When it had taken so f*****g long to accept what he was, and stop being scared he was a sick freak because of it? f**k you.
He slammed both palms into Jack’s chest, and shoved. Jack staggered back, and Luca—a dirtier fighter than most boys—swung his swimming bag off his shoulder and right across Jack’s face. The swimming bag that held, along with towel and trunks, his cycling helmet.
Jack yelped as the bag smashed his head sideways on the concrete. A woman screeched inside the leisure centre; Luca swung the bag back again and evened up that ugly mug a bit.
“Don’t. You. Ever. Call. Me. Faggot. Again!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs. Every word match
