Inescapable History, Inescapable Fates

Hey, demon boy

The Guardian

Following In His Father's Footsteps, An Interview With Henry Fox

Henry was dangerous. To Alex and the world. But articles like this spurred Alex on more then the danger Henry posed. Maybe, Alex should be ashamed of that. He wanted to destroy Britain's golden boy, kill a young man who would someday become a monster, who already was a monster, a gorgeous, fairy-tale prince monster, and send a message of terror to this horrible country of psychopaths. Not because Henry was dangerous, though he was, but because Alex deserved revenge. Belize deserved revenge. Mexico deserved revenge. Guatemala deserved revenge.

Alex couldn't bring himself to talk to Henry, but he had to for the mission. Or not, torturing and killing Henry would require no small talk. Alex wanted to start an argument with Henry about the article, but he had the instinctive feeling every time he argued with Henry about the military, the other boy got closer to suspecting something. So instead, Alex spent his "tactical technology" course drafting NDAs. Creating something else for him and Henry to argue about. He plopped the fifteen page packet of paperwork on Henry's bed and waited.

MEANWHILE, Henry, who is very far beyond just suspecting something:

Henry had known the article was coming out, but he now regretted it. Alex was still refusing to speak to him, and he had no idea how to feel about that. Alex was a potentially homophobic spy and possible terrorist. Henry was letting his dick get in the way of intelligent decision making. But, if he wanted to figure out what Alex's target was and how he was related to Arthur Fox, Henry needed to be on speaking terms with the boy. At least, that's what he told himself. He pulled the sticky note off the stack of papers on his bed, a bit too much hope in his heart. Alex made him feel like he had swallowed bees, and any moment they would start stinging.

Dear Future Commander of Western Imperialism,

Looked it up, anyone can write legally binding NDA's. Please sign in front of a witness and return by tomorrow.

Alex

Henry read the note over and over. A jab or olive branch? Henry didn't know what Alex intended, but he knew what Alex was: a hopeless geek. That night, Henry stole into the library and paid 15 cents a page to fax the NDAs to his estate's lawyer.

He texted her, Hey. Can you do me a huge favor and send this back with legal notes. It for a guy I know.

She sent the NDAs back the next day, with the text, His attempt at NDA's w/ feedback. Could also include feedback on your flirting methods if requested 😉

Henry bulked, That will not be necessary. We're just friends.

He left the NDAs on Alex's bed. The next day, Henry woke to an empty room, with a sticky note on his forehead. So apparently Alex could be sneaky when he applied himself. Henry read the note and snorted, but his cheeks blazed read. Alex had drawn a heart. In it, he wrote,

Thx.

Text me.

717-894-2891

The heart was a joke. The heart was a joke. The heart was a joke, but Henry still immediately added the contact. He needed Pez's help drafting an opening text, but Pez was doing some "very important schmoozing" at the Nigerian embassy for the Sandhurst African Exchange Program's Student Union and had his phone on airplane mode. Henry drafted a list of possibilities:

You can also talk to me.

Yo, you can talk to me,

What are words Americans use?

Dude, howdy. Yall can talk to me. If you wanna.

Well, that was horrid.

Feel free to talk to me too, we are roommates

God, he sounded so desperate. He might as well write, "Hey demon boy, I like your stupid face, please talk to me again. I love you."

Hey, loser, you could also talk to me. We live two feet apart.

He scheduled the final text to send that evening and texted Pez a long series of panicked updates.