A Quiet Kind of Thunder(36)

‘Hi,’ I say, and she beams at me as Karam nods and shakes my hand. See what I mean? Like a man.

‘And this is Rhys,’ she adds, gesturing to Rhys.

‘All right, mate,’ Karam says, shaking Rhys’s hand. ‘Awesome costume.’

‘Thanks,’ Rhys says. He coughs a little, and I realize suddenly that he’s nervous, maybe even more nervous than I am. ‘What’s your costume?’

His volume is all off and my stomach twists on his behalf, but Karam just looks down at himself and grins. ‘I’m one hundred per cent Karam Homsi. Accept no substitutes.’

‘Not a zombie doctor?’ I ask. Wasn’t that what Tem had said?

‘Nah, couldn’t get the gear,’ Karam says casually. ‘So these are the panda costumes, then?’ He appraises me, smiling, as I hunch down under the hood for effect. ‘That’s cute.’

‘That’s what I was going for,’ I say dryly. Something about Karam’s easy manner has relaxed me, and my voice has returned.

‘And you,’ Karam says, turning to Tem, his smile widening into a sharp grin. ‘Wow.’

Tem’s whole face lights up. ‘That’s what I was going for,’ she says.

‘How are you guys doing for drinks?’ Karam asks, looking back at Rhys and me.

‘We’re good,’ I say, looking at Rhys for confirmation.

‘Tem?’ Karam prompts.

‘I’m empty,’ Tem says, holding up a glass that I swear was half full just thirty seconds ago. ‘I think I need a refill.’

I expect Karam to go and get drinks for them both, but she disappears off with him, leaving Rhys and me on the blanket. Before she does this she glances at me, her whole face a hopeful question, and I nod a little so she knows it’s OK.

There’s a slight pause as Rhys and I look at each other, suddenly a little awkward alone in the dark at a party where there’s alcohol and dancing and expectation. But then he shuffles a little closer to me, his mouth bumps up against mine and we’re kissing.

Kissing, I’m discovering, has its own time zone. I have no idea how long Rhys and I spend on the blanket, lip-locked, before we’re interrupted by an amused-sounding ‘Hello’ from above us.

I break away from Rhys, blinking. Tem is back already and she’s standing above us, hanging on to Karam’s arm, a roguish grin on her face.

I cough. ‘Uh. Hi.’

‘Oh, don’t let us disturb you,’ Tem says grandly. ‘Please continue your disgraceful PDA.’

Rhys glances at me, a clear request for a translation on his face. I roll my eyes at him. Tem just thinks she’s being funny.

‘What did she tell you?’ Tem asks immediately. She settles down, cross-legged, on the blanket. I notice that the glass she’s holding has been filled to the brim.

‘She said you’re very funny,’ Rhys says, straight-faced.

‘Oh.’ Tem is pleased, oblivious to the joke. ‘Well, that’s true.’

I turn my head just slightly away from Rhys so he can’t see my mouth. ‘Make sure you look directly at Rhys when you talk, so he can read what you’re saying,’ I say quickly to Tem. Even though I’ve turned away, I still lower my voice instinctively.

Tem turns obediently towards him. ‘What are you drinking?’ she asks, enunciating.

‘Magners,’ Rhys replies, turning the bottle so she can see the label.

Tem makes a face. ‘Ugh.’

Rhys points at her, eyebrows raising. You? he is asking.

‘Vodka and lemonade,’ she says. ‘Drink of champions.’

I look at Karam, who has sat down beside Tem. ‘So how’s the party going so far?’ Ask open questions, my CBT has taught me. Invite people to talk about themselves. It’s a bit of a non-question, but it’ll do.

‘It’s cool,’ Karam says, nodding. ‘Some people really made an effort with the costumes. Did you see the C-3PO?’

I shake my head.

‘Keep a lookout. And Gay Max came as Elsa.’

I hesitate. ‘Gay Max?’

‘There are two Maxes,’ Tem puts in. ‘Gay Max and Short Max.’

‘Right,’ I say. ‘So you call the gay one . . . Gay Max?’

‘He came up with it after watching Big Hero 6,’ Karam says. ‘So if it’s offensive, it’s on him.’

Rhys is watching us, looking baffled. When I meet his eye he fingerspells, M-A-X? and I smile and shake my head. Costumes. I’ll tell you later.

‘Tem told me you’re studying six subjects,’ I say. ‘Wow.’

Karam laughs and gives a modest shrug. ‘Yeah. I want to be a doctor. Taking more subjects gives me the best chance of getting into the best medical schools.’

‘He’s basically a genius,’ Tem puts in.

‘I just work hard,’ Karam says. ‘But it’ll be worth it.’ He takes a sip of beer. ‘I came here when I was nine years old. Did Tem tell you that? From Syria. I’m going to become a doctor and go back. Help everyone who didn’t get all the opportunities I had.’

I squash the uncharitable thought that he sounds like he’s given this speech more than once and smile. ‘That’s very noble.’