Charlie has been nice to Levi, and he offered to take him out for the day in his Austin A35. Reverse psychology. If he’s nice to Levi, then Levi won’t tease him about having a crush on him. Levi has also been pleasant, and the other day he stood over Charlie and told him that he liked his paintings.

They are both playing mind games, and I am blissfully aware that they are using me to do it.

Whilst eating breakfast yesterday, Levi appeared in his underwear. He put his arms around me and whispered something in Polish into my ear. It sounded romantic but I don’t understand the language, and neither does Charlie, and Levi might have said anything. Charlie gave him a dirty look, and politely said, “Good morning. I hope that you slept well.”

Last night, we all stayed in and watched a movie. It was a low budget slasher film in which a teacher with a class full of unruly sixteen-year-olds finally snaps. One night, as two boys are walking home, he strikes, and drags them to a lock-up and cable-ties them to a desk. Thereafter, he gives the lesson of a lifetime, and if they get a question wrong, he drives a nail through the palms of their hands.

I shared the sofa with Charlie because Levi had occupied the chair where he would normally sit. Halfway through, Charlie stretched his legs and placed his bare feet on my lap. “Would you massage my feet please?” I was taken aback because this was out of character for him, but I obligingly rubbed and kneaded while he oohed and aahed. He’s got nice feet and moisturises them with something called Udderly Smooth that I presume is made from cows.

At that moment, the teacher used a nail gun to drive a six inch nail through one of the boy’s necks, causing lots of blood and gore to spew from his mouth.

“I find this kind of thing quite homoerotic,” Levi said.

“He is only massaging my feet,” gloated Charlie, “so there is no need to be jealous.”

“I wasn’t talking about you. I’m referring to boys covered in blood and driving nails into them.”

I went to bed and was listening to Troye Sivan on my headphones when Charlie appeared with a copy of The Hidden Michelangelo under his arm. “I’ve come to say goodnight,” he said, “and then I am going to read in my bedroom.”

I thought it was rather sweet because he’d never done this before.

Almost immediately, Levi brushed past him, and gave me a peck on the cheek.

He winked at me and squeezed Charlie’s backside as he left the room. 

Charlie looked bewildered, while Troye Sivan sang, “he’s got the personality, not even gravity could ever hold him down.”