Free Heated Beat 01 - My Mate Jack (MM) by Garrett Leigh

mug, and tried to let the warmth back into his heart. He felt bad for Jack, George, and the rest of their family. If Jack was hiding something, none of them deserved for it to come out this way, but beneath that, anger crept through Will like cold, sludgy poison that swallowed every moment of joy and happiness he’d ever spent with Jack.
    Jack had kissed a man who wasn’t Will, and no amount of tea and sympathy would ever ease the pain in Will’s chest.

Chapter Six
     
     
    D ECEMBER 26
10:34 a.m.
Will: Did you make it back okay?

December 27
11:15 p.m.
Will: Jack? You there? Come on, mate. Don’t blank me now. My dad bought me a phone for Christmas. The number is at the top of my e-mail account page. Call me. Or send me one of those text things.

December 28
07:05 a .m.
Will: JACK….

2004
January 1
09:47 a.m.
Jack: Sorry, mate. Haven’t turned the computer on for a week. Dodging the hate mail from my dad. Sorry I missed you at Christmas. Things got a bit lairy. How are you?

09:59 a.m.
Will: That’s it? Are you taking the piss? What the fuck happened?

January 2
08:15 a.m.
Jack: You know what happed. George told your dad.

08:23 a.m.
Will: I want you to tell me.

January 4
08:34 a.m.
Jack: Tell you what? That I got off with a bloke? Chill your beans, mate. It wasn’t a big deal. I was trashed, and it felt right at the time. Can’t believe the cameras caught me. They never take pictures in that room.

08:56 a.m.
Will: That’s it? Fuck’s sake, Jack.

January 6
09:05 a.m.
Jack: What?

January 9
11:10 p.m.
Jack: Helloooo? Answer your phone.

January 12
08:48 a.m.
Jack: I know you’re not dead. My mum saw your dad in Tesco.

January 18
09:55 a.m.
Jack: Whatever.

January 31
11:58 p.m.
Will: I finished the XS project. The file is attached.

February 1
08:48 a.m.
Jack: Does this mean you’re talking to me again?

February 3
08:34 a.m.
Jack: Obviously not….
     
     
    July 2004
    Leeds. England.
     
    W ILL SPUN his office chair in a lazy circle. Working in a call center was a crock of shite, especially one servicing a gas company at this time of year. Whose central heating broke down in July? And who cared? Not Will—he just needed the money, which was why he was spending his summer break locked inside a dingy office.
    A phone rang. Will grabbed his desk to break the spin of his chair. He turned his headset on. Nothing happened. It took him a moment to realize the ringing was coming from his own phone.
    He dug the phone out of his bag. Private number flashed up on the tiny screen. He pressed the call button, but he already knew what he’d hear—nothing. He’d had many calls like that in recent weeks, spooky and silent. Sometimes he felt convinced he could hear someone breathing, but other times he knew it more likely an automated call center had his number jammed in a glitch in their database. He knew all too well how often that happened, and this time, there was no sound on the line, nothing at all, not even the whir of a computer-controlled communication system.
    Will killed the call and tossed the phone on his desk. He was alone in the office, handling the dull as dust six-till-twelve graveyard shift on his own, like he did most Thursday nights at this time of year. So far, he’d handled three calls, and one of those had been an order for chicken chow mein. He was bored, seriously fucking bored, so he turned to his favorite source of distraction—pissing about on his graphics software.
    He shoved a disc into the drive on his desk. The office computers were far better than the computer he had at home, and he often took advantage of his lonely evening shifts to get his uni work done. He loaded his project folder and opened the image he had in mind to develop over the next year. It was a multilayered piece already, but he’d seen a robot poster he fancied a crack at. He opened his sci-fi folder and scrolled through his saved images. An unnamed file caught his eye. He clicked on it and realized his mistake too