Mr. Compton-Baird was going on about wormholes and time travel and how it was theoretically possible to do so, that the only glitch in it was how to prevent time anomalies. I’d read many books on the subject, like going back and shooting Hitler before he came into power. It was assumed that you could change history but those who won and didn’t necessarily tell the real story wrote history. I’d found my own loopholes in the twists I’d performed.
His pale eyes remained on me while we engaged in a heated discussion. But then, I had inside knowledge of the phenomenon. He thought it was impossible even if the theorists said it could be done. He said time was immutable.
“Time is a river,” I said. “My eyes have seen it.”
“You’re a strange young man, Aidan,” he answered finally. He went on to tell us about the physics of how light traveled through space time, how the weight of a black hole bent space and time around it and then gave us assignments to read Steven Hawkins, The Theory of Everything. I’d already read it, devoured it in only an hour. Wanted to see him, talk to him. Thought about going down to Cambridge and doing just that.
On the last bell, we all jumped up and rushed for the door to meet the crowd coming from English Lit and heads above the rest, I spotted Chelmsley and his pal, Glenellen. Let someone close by my elbow and saw Khalid.
“Have a good Holiday?” he asked quietly. He wore his neat uniform, blue slacks, starched Oxford, and the school jacket. Mine was second hand, a bit tight and shop-worn.
“Don’t make trouble, Aid,” he continued. “He’s pissed. Broke Daddy’s expensive new car, been grounded for two months and he’s looking for trouble.”
“He’s not taking it out on either of us,” I grumbled.
Khalid studied me. “Something’s different about you, Aid.” his eyes widened and he smiled. “You got laid!” I blushed, confirming his guess. “Tell me?” he begged.
“No. It’s private.” Chelmsley passed us by with a stare that promised ‘later.’ I sighed, hoisted my pack over one shoulder, and turned for the dining hall. I actually had enough to splurge on three meals a day for the next term.
Some of the teachers were in line for tea and biscuits. Breakfast was one meal you could always count on to be hot, filling and tasty. It ran from scones to kippers with everything in between. I loaded my tray and carried it over to a table near the window, eating with my back protected and keeping an eye open for attacks. Khalid sat next to me, picking at his tortillas and dates.
“Where did you go on Holiday?”
“London. Saw Big Ben and Parliament. Hyde Park. You?”
“Home to Dubai. Said hello to most of the family.”
“That must have taken forever,” I commented. He had like, forty brothers and sisters.
“Went swimming, deep sea fishing.”
“I noticed your tan,” I said and he choked on his tea, laughing.
“What’s her name?”
I eyeballed him. “Not saying their names.”
“Names? You dog. Is it as wonderful as it seems?” he asked wistfully.
“Khalid, it’s the best thing ever happened to me,” I smiled remembering the feel of her, the softness of her skin, how her hair swept across my face and tickled me, how the lovely flush colored her whole body and how she moaned into my mouth.
She told me I was gentle and sensitive; would go a long way to treat a lady with respect and not like a tart. Cammy had said other lovely things.
“Aidan, that’s a very telling smile on your face,” he seemed sad all of a sudden. I wondered if his own experience with Chelmsley had not proven satisfactory.
Asked delicately, “You ever…you know, in the rest room? At home?”
“Jerked off? Yeah, haven’t you?”
I mumbled something, embarrassed.
“Chelmsley does it all the time. He’ll fuck a melon if it has a hole.”
“I’m afraid Chelmsley and Glenellen are going to find their lives seriously compromised,” I said and although he badgered me, I wouldn’t say anymore, just smiled.