Pretty Boy Psycho

When we land in the woods Casey’s more unconscious than he is conscious. Getting him safely down from Honey is a struggle, especially with Danny being staggery; he’s gained deep gashes though none appear to be fatal. I sit in-between the two of them. Casey slopes against my right shoulder giving off groans every other minute.

“Do you think Casey has concussion?”

“Maybe. Try keep him awake to be safe.”

“″Kay. You alright there, Case? Sorry I teased you before our job.”

“Teased who?”

“You, I teased you.”

“Herm.”

I hold his hand. Give it a squeeze. “You had me worried laid on the floor like you were. I hope you weren’t out cold for long.”

Danny sits himself right by Casey. “Thanks for helping me out mate.” Gives his shoulder a thank you rub. “He like took a few down for me. Reckon I’d have been killed if he’d not stepped in.” Danny carries on rubbing at Casey’s shoulder.

“Get off.” Casey does a one shoulder shrug then slouches right down my arm.

“He doesn’t like being touched.”

“Seriously?”

“Mostly. Don’t mind me, do you?”

“Head hurts.”

“Much? Are you dizzy? How’s your vision?” I touch his head; it’s hot. “Hey Case, you dizzy?”

“A little.”

“Look up.”

“No, makes me dizzier.”

“Then talk to me instead.” I wait for speech. He doesn’t give me any. “He’s not right.” Even though I want to avoid him being too comfy, to put him off sleeping, I put my arms round him, hold him close.

“Sorry I messed up,” gets mumbled into my arm.

“You did great.”

“No before. Ignoring you.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“I wouldn’t want me either.” His eyes get heavy. I give him a shake as he starts drifting off. “Get off. I said no. Get off. Please.”

“It’s me, Case.” He must have concussion. What an awful memory to have. I really hope he isn’t immersed in that abusive moment. I wonder if he has night terrors about Justin from time to time.

Ooo Geordie and Charlie join us sooner than I thought they would. “Lee is escorting the students to Kensington,” is Geordie’s punchy explanation, as he sits himself next to me, pressing a hand to his ribcage. “What’s he groaning about?”

“I think he has concussion.”

“Any wounds Danny?”

“Only flesh ones.”

Charlie hovers over Geordie. “You’re alive does this mean you killed Midnight?”

“Afraid I messed up there.”

“You mean all this was for nothing?” Charlie heaves a heavy sigh. “And we’ll be in deeper trouble than before.”

“Hey, I said only me or Midnight was coming outta Spindle Tower alive.”

Danny smiles. “In Al we trust.”

Charlie sits down in front of me. “Al, you made her go away?”

I tilt my head slightly to one side. “No one hurts my family or threatens our home.”

“He was epic. Came through for us. We ought to be called Team Al.”

I shake my head. “I like how we are.”

“No one outside us five is gonna know who dealt the killing blow.” Geordie gives Casey a jab. “That goes for those two clowns you call friends.”

“I said no hog!” Casey aims a half asleep punch at Geordie’s nose. I catch his fist before any damage can be done.

“What the fuck?”

“His head hurts.” I open Casey’s fist then hold his hand tight.

“Yeah well my ribs are fucked but you don’t see me making a fuss.”

“Your ribs?” Charlie looks concerned.

“Cracked a couple. Nothing to be alarmed about.”

“Did you charge round like a mad man in there?” Charlie actually jokes.

“Lucky! Lucky! Lucky!” I bellow doing my bestest Geordie impersonation.

“Yeah I lost it. Seriously though is he gonna come around to his normal egotistical self or are we gonna have a problem?”

Before I have chance to answer Casey falls on top of me, laughing, I think that’s instead of howling. “Are you being polite Mister Harlington?” Holds my other hand as well. “I like it when you work your switchblades.” Holding my hands Casey pulls himself to his feet then swoons into Prince. Totes loses his balance. And we get him groaning again.

* * *

At home Casey is less groany. I perch on the edge of the sofa while dabbing at his bump with a damp cloth.

Geordie looks on at us from the comfort of the armchair. “I’m pretty sure he’s being over-dramatic now.”

“His head really does hurt. Remember he blacked out and thought he was somewhere imaginary for a short while. Definitely concussion.”

Casey holds up two fingers. “I got hit in the head then fell over and whacked it a second time in the same spot. I have concussion.”

“Yay you’re coherent again.”

“Did Mi and Frankie get home alright?”

“Sound,” replies Geordie.

Using some cushions Casey props himself up. Snatches the damp cloth from me so he can nurse his own head. “What are we doing about Cloud Association? They’ll come at us hard wanting to know our motives and such.”

“We lay low. Headquarters don’t know we live here. Wait for Midnight’s death to blow over.”

“Blow over. How is assassinating a leading Thunder general going to blow over? Clearly you have not thought your plans through. Her followers might want revenge. You’ve pried open a can of multi-coloured paint, Henley.”

“We’ve opened the tin. Got home for breakfast didn’t ya? What more do you want?”

“Structure. And you,” Casey frowns at me, “you’re a pretty boy psycho.”

“Well you were mean blanking me before our mission.”

“It’s not my fault you’re no longer the pathetic depressed boy who used to admire me.”

“I do admire you!”

“What’s to admire? You’re an angel with switchblades. I’m a mutt with a skateboard. You felt sorry for me so took me in.”

“What’s happened to his ego?” asks Geordie.

Casey messes about folding his cloth in different patterns. “Sometimes it lays dormant depending on my ups and downs.”

“You can talk about them without going berserk?”

“Occasionally. Sorry I messed up tonight.” Casey chokes then throws his cloth. “I always mess up.”

My lovely fiancée is twisting himself in knots thanks to his concussion making him visualise an old abusive episode. I wish everyone else in the house were in the loop; they must think he’s a crazy with these ups and downs. “You’ve never messed up.” I lean right into him.

“Hurts. You feel sorry for me.”

Badness me, it has taken a bonk to the head to make him open up. I need to cheer him up fast. “Remember our first proper glance?”

“What?”

“Through the skate park railings. That glance turned me bi, you naughty predator.”

Casey holds back a laugh.

I tap tap his shoulder. “Is that a smile I see coming through?”

Casey gives a slight shake of his head which costs him a loud groan.

“No! I think it was.” I drop my voice to a whisper, so Geordie won’t hear. “Just so you know I’d do almost anything for you ’cause I’m crazy about you. I’m the one who messed up not realising you were in a nasty place. My depression made me selfish. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on your troubles and assumed you were distant out of spite.” I bring my voice back to regular indoor talking. “Did anyone ever tell you you’ve a lovely frown?” Lightly I press my fingers against the corners of Casey’s mouth urging him to smile. “I prefer it when you’re smiling mind.” Figuring I’m being more annoying than helpful I pull away my fingers.

What perfect timing for Danny to saunter into the lounge to sit on the sofa with us. He offers a mug of coffee to Casey. “How’s your head?”

“It’s sent him wappy. How come he gets a drink and I don’t? My ribs took a whack.”

“Geordie, you may have the coffee. I am not thirsty.” Casey slumps in his cushions. Closes his eyes. I don’t think the cushions quite do their job; he slouches into me which is becoming a regular occurrence recently.

I put an arm round his shoulders and rub the top of his arm. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Not really.”

Danny gives Geordie the mug then picks up the cloth which he re-dampens and presses against Casey’s head. “Do you think we ought to send for Ant?”

“What’s Ant gonna do cut his head open?” jokes Geordie.

“Concussion isn’t funny,” says Charlie on joining us.

“Get me pain killers please,” says Casey in his most polite tone.

“Not a wise idea. We need to know naturally how effected your head is seen as you haven’t a normal headache,” says Charlie.

“Pretty boy, you’ll fetch me pain killers, won’t you?”

I pat Casey’s head. “Sorry Case, Charlie thinks they’d be a bad idea. Even if it was a go ahead I don’t have any.”

Casey pushes me away. “You’re such a hog leaving me to suffer in agony and listening to gypsy doctor theories instead of me who knows my own head better than anyone.”

I sit on the floor and listen to Casey moaning away to himself. Sounds like he’s dying. The others retreat to the floor too probably because he keeps scrunching and un-scrunching himself up.

“He has a pathetic side,” grumbles Geordie as he takes himself away from the noise. Most probably has gone to sit on the roof. Nope he’s back in a couple of minutes. Holds a cup of water and three pills out to Casey. “If you shut up you can have these. They’re the last three.”

Reluctant eyes stare at the painkillers. “Are your ribs no longer hurting?”

“They frickin’ hammer.” Geordie drops his painkillers into Casey’s hand. “They take about twenty minutes to kick in.”

“You shouldn’t give people with banged heads painkillers,” protests Charlie whose advice goes unheeded.

Casey downs the pills with one gulp of water. “Thank you.”

Geordie shrugs and sits in the armchair. “If you fall into a coma ’cause you feel better when you ain’t you can thank me then.”

The lounge has gone incredibly quiet. We sit in what must be contemplativeness for what we have done. There are bound to be thick fast consequences. Perhaps we ought to build a barricade round the house.

Sunshine wanders over to us. I stroke his feathers to keep myself grounded. I went into Spindle Tower in pursuit of Midnight’s death. A few days ago, I purposely broke into Justin’s home and broke his nose. Does that make me an assassin? Protecting this family is hard work.

Hands shove at my shoulder blades. “Have we any champagne?”

“You know we haven’t.”

“It’s six in the morning.” Geordie gesticulates at the clock.

“You are supposed to drink champagne on celebratory mornings. I was promised breakfast was I not?”

“You definitely shouldn’t be drinking alcohol when taking painkillers,” points out Charlie.

“You do like to suck the joy out of life. Despite a slight twinge my head is practically fine now. It’s as my father used to say before he stopped giving me advice: Casey, when there’s something to celebrate you damn well celebrate the skies out of it. Bigging up our victories keeps us successful. What have we in the cupboards?”

“A sack of stinking flour. A hunk of dry bread, bit of rice, and an egg or two. Have a feast.”

“Perfect.” Up gets Casey to do goodness knows what in the kitchen with the little we have.

“Your boyfriend is off his head. He best not have alcoholic tendencies.”

“Not at all he just likes extravagant celebrations.”

“Champagne for breakfast is wrong.”

“Not when you’re a Hillcrest striking business deals. There’s a chammy breakfast at least once a month at Casey’s house.”

“How about at your house?” asks Danny sounding curious.

“Only at New Year’s Eve, or extra special birthdays.”

“What’s an extra special birthday?” snorts Geordie.

“Your sweet sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one, the dreaded forties, and fifties.”

“People are lucky if they make forty,” says Danny.

“We’ll make it,” I exclaim, “because we have sunlight.”

Sunshine lifts his head to nod his agreement. Nips my finger then wanders upstairs probably to stretch himself out in my room. Yum whatever is being cooked in the kitchen smells divine. Sooo hungry.

“What is this?” asks Geordie uncertainly when Casey hands him a plate of some sort of flat not perfectly round edible thingy.

Having finished handing out breakfast Casey sits on the sofa with a plate on his knee. “When times are rough the best way to feed a family is with pancakes. All you need is eggs, flour, and milk.”

“And pixie dust!” I beam at sugar sprinkled on top of my pancakes.

“I forgot about these things,” says Charlie.

“Yes, they were rather big in America as a breakfast option,” says Casey. “Never been there myself but have grandparents that originate from California.”

Geordie picks at his pancake, testing it. “Not bad, Hillcrest.”

“You don’t seem the cooking type,” says Danny through a mouthful of pancake.

“Do not be getting any ideas. Pancakes is my one and only signature dish. I only made them today because I am famished.”

Sweet he’s not having a fat day today.

“Your family aren’t always wealthy, are they?”

“Of course not. Some months are tight. Kensington Palace fees don’t come cheap. But you’re only poor if you let the world see so. The past few years have been kind to my family. I am surprised my parents are still paying my school fees.”

“Everyone should have the right to a Kensington Palace experience,” I say.

“Imagine those two at Kensington Palace.” Casey jabs his fork at Danny and Geordie then turns the fork on me. “Actually, Al I cannot imagine you there anymore.”

“Cloud High all the way.” I give a mock salute. “The uniform is much more stylish.”

“If you take in the sleeves,” laughs Geordie. “Remember when Clover went ape shit on your ass for those modifications?”

“I was hoping she’d blow up.”

Seen as we’ve all finished our breakfast Geordie manages to squeeze onto the sofa with us even though it makes him take in a sharp breath to settle his ribs. Puts his arms round our shoulders at least as far as they’ll stretch. “Well done today yeah. All we need to do now is stand up to Courtney when she goes hopping mental. No worries there just play up as usual. We’ll show ourselves tomorrow when crap might have settled. Today is for painting, reading, chilling, guitar playing, and skateboarding. Oh, and Al don’t fly too far away from the house. Those Thunders still know our location.”

Today was supposed to be for those things but everyone seems to be lazing about doing next to nothing. Well barring me. Sitting still being lazy is totes hard. For some reason Casey had some lovely bolts of white silk and let me have them so I’m cutting and sewing trying to make myself a stylish new shirt no one else could possibly have. Making a shirt is hard going without a mannequin to help me judge dimensions.

I’m doing up a seam when there’s a knocking at the front door. Battle stations. I knew we wouldn’t escape today without being bothered by retaliation. I take hold of my switchblades and make for the stairs. Danny’s already at the front door. Katanas poised ready to defend. I stand in the middle of the stairs. Casey’s hanging out his bedroom door. I can hear Geordie staking out the back door with Charlie.

“Danny!” exclaims Lucy when he flings the door open. “Do you greet all your guests in this manner?”

“Dude, get a spy glass.” Frankie shunts through Lucy and Danny. Makes straight for Casey. “How’s your head? Mi said you blacked out.”

“Lies. I perhaps had a dizzy spell but did not black out completely. It was his fault anyway. If I had not come along when I did he would have gotten his own head kicked in.”

Mi slips into the house. “Much true. Bro whacked him into a coma with a placard. Ooo that’s a mighty bump.”

“Don’t stare, you impolite pig.”

“Great the circus showed up,” says Geordie. “Didn’t you have school today?”

“No.” Lucy laughs. “I am afraid our principle found out over half the school wasn’t at Casey’s party. Mister Hillcrest had a herd of angry parents at his door this morning. There’s a rumour this Ashley girl showed up at school. Then everyone was suspended until further notice with an ongoing investigation pending. Figured as we were the ringleaders it’d be best to lay low here, so Mi doesn’t crack under pressure. Plus I need my ribbon back.”

Danny holds up his wrist to reveal a tattered blood stained no longer blue ribbon.

“What did you do to it?” Lucy flicks her old ribbon.

“It died.”

“So, this is how it’s gonna be,” says Geordie as he watches Casey invite his best friends into the lounge. “We’re stuck with those three forever visiting.”

I cross my fingers. “The skateboarders are inseparable.”

“I don’t like them; that Frankie he’s snotty, and Mi’s on dope.”

“They bring food.” Charlie nudges a pack which has been dumped in the hallway with his foot.

“We ain’t a charity.”

“No, you’re rough boys from Cloud Association. Call it payment if you like for defeating General Midnight.” Lucy pulls at Danny’s arm, leads him into the lounge. Charlie goes with them leaving me and Geordie hanging out in the hallway.

“You owe me a drink down the pub.”

I blink. “Why?”

“For bringing all these weirdoes into the house.” Geordie folds his arms. “I hate Kensington people.” He smirks as laughter erupts from the lounge. “But they’re good for Danny. When his family left, died, whatever, I thought I’d lost part of him forever. Thanks for you know,” he darts his eyes round the ceiling, “being our relief, making us family, with unusual rich friends.”

“You saved me from dark depression,” I insist, “by letting me into your clique.”

“Yeah then you coaxed us to life.”

Here’s some retaliation right now. The front door swings open and Cain booms into our house without bothering to knock. “You had this planned from the off, didn’t you?” He points accusingly at me.

“There’s always some drama with you Al. What’s he going on about?”

“Haven’t you heard? General Midnight is dead.”

Geordie gapes mockingly at Cain. “What? Is she? When?”

“You know exactly when. I’ve spent the best part of my day splitting up Hackney gangs killing each other and pedestrians who get in their way. If I find out you had Kensington Palace students roped into your madness you’ll be for it. Oh, Annie Harlington has taken over The Plaza. Has claimed Spindle Tower as her own. Barricaded herself in. Jordan’s been trying to coax her out, but she perches on the ruined roof watching the madness unfold while nearly getting herself torn apart by skeletals.”

“The jammy...” Geordie is gaping for real now.

“I’ll tell you something Courtney is not a happy dragon. Thinks Annie wants to turn general. If she can’t have Cloud Association she’ll settle for The Plaza. Well that missy is going to end up scolded. I thought you were one of us. All the time you were working for your own kind.”

“That’s not true I had no idea Mum had desires on The Plaza. She’s a real opportunist. When she sees an opening, she’ll take it.”

Geordie imitates Cain’s finger pointing. “You got no rights coming here spitting false accusations. Annie don’t even know Al’s breathing. Is the truth. And if students wanna take a field trip to Hackney that’s their prerogative. I wouldn’t ever recommend visiting that corner of Lundune. I’m too busy running a youth hostel.”

I giggle as Frankie and Mi rush Cain like hysterical fan boys, losing their cool, much to Casey’s distaste.

Lucy gives a whoop. “Hurray for Mrs Harlington.”

“I happen to have a message from Mrs Annie Harlington. She managed to throw it to Jordan despite the chaos below her. Cain holds a letter out to Geordie which he snatches up.

“Al, do you wanna be the one to read this?”

“No, it’s addressed to you.”

“In that case this is an open public letter.” Geordie takes himself into the lounge, sits on the coffee table, gesturing at us all to gather. The Pigs lay claim to the sofa while Danny sits in the armchair with Lucy and Charlie perching on either chair arm. I lean into the bookcase while Cain lingers by the door looking in at our youth hostel style set up.

“Dear Geordie Henley,” Geordie starts reading, sort of likes to add his own little footnotes along the way, “that’s me not you,” he smirks at Charlie. “I am unsure wherever your team had anything to do with leading a protest of Kensington Palace students to Hackney. Whoever’s idea it was, was both ingenious and dangerous. Thankfully no students were seriously hurt...”

Mi and Frankie give a round of applause. “Casey’s idea,” congratulates Mi.

“The idea was Al’s and Charlie’s. Get your facts straight,” snipes Geordie.

“Casey was the main instigator,” says Frankie.

“Pretended to be. He’s a show off who steals other peoples’ ideas and casts them off as his own.”

Casey laughs. “My Pigs and I have a monopoly on Kensington Palace not you.”

“We took those jocks down,” says Mi.

“The basketball game was to big us up not for Kaito’s honour,” interjects Frankie in his most spiteful tone.

“Now now Frankie, we helped each other. When you are kind to Casey, he’s good to you,” says Casey.

“Wow. Showy, Goofy, and Spite,” snickers Geordie. “Here’s a favour for ya shut up so I can finish reading this rag.” He’s about to read again but is put off by Cain who’s grinning away at Casey “What?”

“I like him he’s funny.”

“See I told you.” I cross my eyes at Casey.

“Did you know Hillcrests used to be aviators many years ago before the world took a nosedive? They used to have fleets of light aircraft. Flying’s in their blood.”

“I know my own family history thank you very much.”

“You never told me your ancestors were pilots, Case. No wonder Prince came to you.”

“Blah blah blah. I’m bored. Let me read this letter.” Geordie waves the letter and manages to carry on reading without any more interruptions. Actually he starts over. “Dear Geordie Henley. I am unsure wherever your team had anything to do with leading a protest of Kensington Palace students to Hackney. Whoever’s idea blah blah blah pass on that bit… Thankfully no students were seriously hurt. The main thing is General Midnight’s life has been cut short wherever you were directly involved or not. Our family have decided we are going to try take over The Plaza. Some Thunders may convert to helping the Harlington’s, only time will tell. I think General Annie has a certain ring to it and may make Courtney take more serious notice of me.

“Here is the main reason why I am writing to you. Dave and I are constructing a new Cloud High and would very much like to have some input from your young talented team. I want to integrate new subjects into the curriculum such as art and astrology; if griffons comply of course. Please accept this invitation to visit your old training camp as we rebuild. We are usually there till lunch time on weekdays.

“Keep up the fantastic work, Geordie, Corey, Charlie, Danny, and Casey. Your dedicated admirer, Annie Harlington. P.S don’t worry there will be no more Clovers in this Cloud High I can assure you.”

“Sounds like your dad’s back from Japan,” says Charlie.

“But do we take up their invitation?” Geordie looks to me as does everyone else. “If you reveal yourself as Al Harlington-”

I cut him off. “-Nothing will change. Courtney and her logistics team might be peeved but nothing new there. I’m still going to live here and be on Team Geordie and sell art with you and hang down the pub.”

“We should see them,” smiles Danny. “They’re your parents mate.”

“You’re fortunate to have two alive that don’t want to stick knives into you,” says Charlie.

“Or get rat arsed and throw bottles all over their shoddy apartment then lay in their own vomit,” says Geordie.

“Okay we’ll go say hello.”

“Tomorrow after we have a rollicking from General Courtney,” says Geordie.

“I do wonder what our next assignment will be.” Charlie gives his special slanted smile.

“At a guess clearing up our mess,” sighs Geordie. “I bet there’s placards all over Hackney.”