Chapter 8: December 28th
“What’s the endgame here?” Daniels asks me dubiously. We’re in his room at his home in St Albans. I had to take a train to get here, and now I’m starting to regret it. Firstly, his room is scary—his interests centre on computers, and so he has three machines running, while two lie open on the floor. He has taken their parts out and is fiddling with them as we speak. Secondly, his interpretation of events makes me feel like I’ve a major delusion problem.
“I don’t have an endgame,” I tell him. “I just thought maybe he likes me, too.”
Daniel rolls his eyes.
“So why don’t you ask him,” he says in a way that implies he’s leading somewhere obvious with this question.
“We kinda live together,” I say. “It’s not that easy.”
He spreads his hands and raises his eyebrows
