‘Well, I like Abba and Erasure too,’ argued Omar. ‘Sorry, I didn’t realize. I’m a bit dense about noticing things.’ They sat in silence for a moment, Omar worried that he’d embarrassed Jim. He opened his mouth to say something, but had barely muttered, ‘Um, I guess …’ when Jim sprang up and put his hand over Omar’s mouth, indicating towards the door in mime. Omar was too shocked by the physical contact to do anything. Jim’s hand was very warm from holding his cup of tea, and smelled of soap and cookies - it smelled like his mother’s hand. Then Omar understood, and crept towards the door, where voices could be clearly heard coming up the staircase, the unmistakable braying of Bloody Boring Benj and his horsey girlfriend. Omar gently clicked the lock on the door and scribbled quickly on the back of his notes, ‘Benj in same Philosophy class as me; he’s probably come up 2 wait here until U get back.’ Jim nodded, rolling his eyes as the voices got closer and louder and, mouthing, ‘Sorry about this,’ he flicked off the light. They sat conspiratorially in the shadows, lit only by the flickering gas fire, until Benj and his girlfriend got to the door, the girlfriend complaining shrewishly about the number of stairs she’d had to climb in her new high-heeled boots.

Benj rapped sharply on the door, and then waited a moment and rapped again. ‘Omar, you there?’ he called.

‘He’s not there, Benjy. You can see his light’s not on,’ the girl said. ‘Anyway, I only wanted to see Jimmy, he’s so sweet. Not his hangers-on.’

‘I just thought his light was on outside. Maybe it was the next window along,’ mused Benj. ‘Let’s go and see Abigail, she’s just a couple of staircases down.’

‘Just as long as she’s on the ground floor,’ grumbled the girl, tip-tapping down the stairs.

Omar waited a moment, and flicked the light back on. Jim let out a great sigh of relief. ‘Sorry about that, you can see why I had to escape. They’re such tossers. “Jimmy’s so sweet.” Makes you want to puke.’

‘Maybe you’re too nice to them. My mum’s a bit like that. Nice to everyone, sometimes insincerely. If you’re always nice to them, how would they know you don’t like them?’

‘How could they honestly think that anyone would like them?’ said Jim bitchily, but with such apparent wide-eyed sincerity that Omar had to laugh.

‘I was going to say, before they came up, that I guess it must be hard, being bisexual. Like you don’t quite belong to one thing or another, or that you can’t quite be yourself,’ Omar asked, hoping it didn’t sound too personal.