Upstairs, Matthew took down the three large crates that were on top of his closet. He threw everything he might need into them, pulling his drawers out of his desk and upending them into the boxes along with his alarm clock, CDs, DVDs, his phone, his ipod, pens, pencils, the metal ruler, his stapler, a hole punch, manila folders and loose leaf paper, assorted novels and textbooks, his printer, his laptop, Christian’s strobe light, the glasses, Lukas’ jocks, and everything else he owned that wasn’t clothes. He pulled his suitcase down, and started to pack it, throwing clothes in in bundles, emptying drawers, and stuffing shirts in without removing the hangers.

He stopped, when he had almost finished, and started looking for his phone. He had put it in one of the boxes and had to empty all of them again before he found it. He upended them, sorted through the junk, found it, and then piled everything back into the boxes, not caring what got scratched or broken.

He rang Lukas.

‘Can I come over?’ he said. He was crying.

‘If you want to.’

‘No. Can I come over there and stay.’

‘If you want.’

‘I mean, like, for weeks – permanently. I can’t stay here. I’ve had a row with my parents.’

‘What happened?’

‘My dad’s being a prick.’

Lukas was silent for a moment. ‘I’ll have to ask my dad.’

‘Can you ring me back?’

Lukas said that he would.

#

When Matthew arrived, Lukas was waiting in the garage. He helped Matthew with the boxes, and they carried them upstairs, along with his suitcase, in two separate trips.

Aside from Lukas’ bedroom, in his wing of the house, there were three spare bedrooms, and in the one in the centre, which had a separate sitting room and ensuite, McCady had made up the bed for Matthew. He didn’t know how he was going to sleep in there. The room was so enormous, the ceiling so high, and the bed a massive four-poster with curtains. There were three mullioned windows along the wall, which overlooked the rear garden. He could see the swimming pool, and through the trees, the water of Lake Constance, rippled by the twilight wind.

‘Fuck,’ Matthew said.

‘What?’

‘I don’t know how you can live in this house.’

‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘It’s too big. Everything feels empty. There’s too much space.’

‘I suppose I’m used to it.’

‘Can I sleep in your room?’

‘If you want.’

Matthew got into the bed and ruffled in, making it look as though he had slept there. He pushed the crates into the corner of the room and supposed he would have to sort them out sometime, though he wasn’t going to do that now. It was dinner time, and he went downstairs with Lukas to the dining room.

By the sound of it, Matthew’s father hadn’t phoned Mr Sorensen. Mr Sorensen didn’t say anything, and Matthew hadn’t told his father where he was going. He didn’t suppose Mr Sorensen would go and ring Matthew’s parents. He wasn’t the type to pry. He had simply said that Matthew could stay for as long as he liked, for as long as it suited Lukas to have him.

After dinner, he watched some television with Lukas, in Lukas’ sitting room, and then the two of them went to bed together in Lukas’ bed. It felt strange to Matthew. He hadn’t ever slept with anyone before, but he didn’t want to sleep in that big empty room alone. He asked Lukas if he could fuck him, and afterwards, with his cock still hard, he said to Lukas,

‘Don’t move.’

And he left his cock in Lukas’ arse, the two of them side by side.

‘Just lie still,’ he said. ‘See if you can go to sleep like this.’

Lukas relaxed, though Matthew knew he wasn’t sleeping. He had been complaining again, about the size of Matthew’s cock. But still, the best way for him to get used to it was for Matthew to leave it in there. Over the course of the next fifteen or twenty minutes Matthew came into Lukas’ arse four or five times without moving a muscle.

‘You know what?’ he said, whispering in Lukas’ ear.

‘What?’

‘I do kind of like you.’

He reached his hand down and held Lukas’ penis, holding it between his thumb and his forefingers at the base, and he felt as though he could pinch it off, it was so small.

‘I’d like you better if you didn’t have a cock.’

Lukas said nothing.

‘Don’t you think you should let me cut it off?’

‘Kind of.’

‘I think you should.’

‘Maybe.’

‘You know what I’d really like?’

‘What?’

‘If you didn’t have anything there. Just a smooth patch of skin. Without any scars.’

Lukas sighed.

#

‘But you told me that was what they were.’

‘I couldn’t…’ Christian stopped.

‘What? What the fuck are they?’

It was the following day, Saturday, and he was at Christian’s house, having driven Lukas’ car there on his own.

‘Okay. Can you sit down?’

Matthew sat down on the bed.

‘There’s this guy, this guy at Uni. He’s a chemist. Doing chemistry. I know him because Vince knows him.’

‘Vince?’

‘Yeah. He was going out with his sister.’

Matthew nodded, frowning, trying to understand the connection.

‘Anyway, he made them. He said they were MDMA, ecstasy, but something else as well. Something better.’

‘What?’

‘All the guys have been taking them.’

‘Who?’

‘Nathan, Brad, Tom, Joel. Greg.’

‘Greg?’

‘Yeah. And Drew.’ He stopped. ‘And Dale.’

‘Dale. Who the fuck gave them to Dale?’

Christian tried not to smile. ‘He’s really not that bad.’

‘He’s a fuckhead.’

‘Anyway, he was selling them.’

‘Dale?’

‘No, the guy who makes them.’

Matthew nodded.

‘But he won’t do it anymore.’

‘Well why did you tell me that–?’

‘I had to. He said he’d discovered something. Something he hadn’t expected. He said they were aphrodisiacs.’

Matthew kept silent.

‘Anyway, he said they’re his ticket. He reckons he can sell them to a major pharmaceutical company and make his fortune.’

Matthew stared at the door.

Christian took a deep breath.

‘But I saw him again. On Wednesday. And he reckons now that it’s more than that. He said they’ve got the ability to change tissue structure.’ He stopped again. ‘He said they’d changed the length of his cock.’

Matthew tried not to, but he had to clear his throat.

‘Have you noticed anything?’

Matthew nodded, staring at the door.

‘You’ve taken a lot more than anyone else has.’

Matthew exploded. ‘What?’

Christian moved backwards on the chair. ‘The other guys – they were just, taking them on the weekends, going out to clubs. You’ve been…’

‘I’ve been on them for fucking weeks!’

Christian nodded. He looked frightened. ‘I know,’ he said.

‘Well why did you tell me–’

‘I had to. He said I couldn’t say anything. He paid us.’

‘Paid you?’

‘He paid us a thousand each.’

‘Christian. Your father owns a fucking hospital. What the fuck do you need a thousand dollars for?’

‘Well he doesn’t give me money!’

‘Doesn’t he?’

‘Not unless I work for it.’

Matthew stopped, and watched, while Christian became angry.

‘We’re not all like you, Matthew. We don’t have some cushy fucking inheritance waiting for us. We have to work, you know? We have to study. We don’t have our whole fucking lives set out for us.’

Matthew swallowed.

Christian turned his head away, and when he turned it back again, he was calm.

‘I’m not that happy about the baby, you know?’

Matthew bit his lips. ‘Well why don’t you…?’

‘Don’t even suggest it.’

Matthew drew his head back, frowning, while he tried to understand.

‘You don’t think I might have been an abortion waiting to happen, do you?’

Matthew looked at him. He looked so good. With his dark hair, and blue eyes, and his brown skin.

‘I don’t think so.’

Christian gave him a tight smile.

‘But you said they were Desultrodol. I thought they were pharmaceuticals. I thought they were safe.’

‘Well they are.’ He stopped. ‘Aren’t they?’

‘Christian, my cock has grown more than an inch and half in the past five weeks.’

Christian made an “Oh” face. He looked at Matthew’s groin. Matthew’s packet was like a giant fist, squashed into his jeans, the tight ones again, because they were the only ones Matthew felt comfortable in now, even if they did hurt like hell. Christian stared at the bulge, and then he looked up at Matthew’s face again.

‘Well it’ll probably be alright.’

‘Do you think?’

‘Well there’s no need to be sarcastic about it.’

Matthew thought for a moment.

‘How many of them did you take?’

‘I don’t know. Six or seven.’

‘Six or seven?’

Christian nodded, and swallowed.

Matthew frowned.

‘Do you think that’s maybe why…the baby?’

Christian turned his head down.

‘I mean, you weren’t fertile before, were you?’

Christian shrugged his shoulders. When he looked up again, Matthew could see that his eyes were wet. Matthew hadn’t ever seen him cry before.

‘I kind of blame you for that,’ he said.

Well that’s not very fair, Matthew thought. But he didn’t say anything.

They were silent.

‘Have you got any more?’ Matthew said, after a long time had passed.

‘What?’

‘Tablets.’

‘A few.’

‘Can I have them?’

‘I’ve only got five or six. I only had a hundred to start with.’

‘A hundred? Well how did you afford those?’

‘He gave them to me. In exchange for something.’

‘What?’

Christian shrugged.

‘Well, can I have them?’

‘There’s no more, you know? You can’t get anymore.’

Matthew nodded.

‘And you will have taken more than ninety of them. Ninety-three or ninety-four. Do you understand that?’

Matthew swallowed. ‘I can’t help it,’ he said.

‘Christ you’re weak.’

Christian got up off the chair and went into his bathroom. He came back with the tablets in his hand. There were five of them.

‘Do you have a piece of paper or something?’

Christian pulled a piece of paper out of his printer and handed it to Matthew.

Matthew folded it into an envelope and put the tablets inside. He had twenty-one at home, so with the five he had here, he had twenty-six left. He started to work out how many days they would last him, but Christian interrupted him.

‘I don’t suppose you brought those glasses over.’

‘No. Sorry. I put them in a box somewhere, and I can’t find them.’

‘Yeah? Well my cousin’s not happy about it.’

Matthew frowned.

‘I gave him a different pair. A brown pair. But he wants the black pair, like you’ve got.’

Matthew pushed his lips together and blew air through his nose. ‘You know, Christian, I’ve had to move out of home because of those fucking tablets. My parents think I’m on drugs. Your cousin’s fucking glasses are in a box somewhere, among three million other fucking things, and when I find them, I’ll bring them over. Right now, I’m more worried about the fact that I’m addicted to these things. You did lie to me, you know? You told me they were something else.’

Christian stared at him.

‘Don’t you think you owe me an apology?’

‘No, Matthew, I don’t think I owe you anything.’

Matthew opened his mouth.

‘Who’s having the baby?’