she slipped ; malum

hands

                  

CALUM WENT OUT FOR TARGET PRACTICE WITH MICHAEL, BUT KEPT HIS DISTANCE, A LITTLE SCARED WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF THEY WERE CLOSE. Ever since Calum had visited Michael's house, he hadn't touched him. He hadn't held his hand, hadn't held his sleeve, hadn't done anything because to him Michael's hand was not a hand.

He felt he had disrespected Avery in moving on so quickly. Avery deserved someone mourning over the way she talked, ate, slept, walked, loved. Avery deserved someone mourning over the fact that she was now the past.

Michael asked what was wrong as he loosened his school tie.

Calum said that nothing was wrong, and that he had nothing to worry about, but could still hear the sound of a dodged bullet.

He went home and took some pills, feeling a little more at ease. He tugged at his hair as he wrote, MICHAEL'S HAND IS NOT A HAND under the picture of Mona Lisa. As he took off his clothes to change, he thought the same words over and over.

Calum was naked. He felt the cold bite at his skin, and leave him with goose-bumps. But he said nothing. He walked into the bathroom, and made himself a bubble bath. One that provided him with child-like happiness for ten minutes until he slipped under the water just to see if he would want to come up again.

Calum came up for air, and did not die that night. He saw that as a plus.

Mali knocked on the door, a worried tone in her voice like she had a feeling she knew what her baby brother was doing. "Cal, dinner's ready, please come out."

The heater was on, so Calum only slipped boxers on before walking out of the bathroom. He sat at the table and ate quietly while doodling on a piece of paper.

"What's wrong?"

"Michael's hand is not a hand," he whispered, brokenly, knowing Mali and Jersey wouldn't hear him.

"What?" Jersey asked, clearer than Calum ever thought she would.

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just thinking about stuff."

Jersey fell asleep on the couch an hour later with her head on Mali's lap. Calum watched curiously as Mali checked her girlfriend's underwear like she's a baby. She tried to smile as she explained that Jersey had barely any control over her bladder anymore.

She looked like she was going to cry, so, Calum talked about something else to make her distracted.

"I went to Michael's house . . . Avery's old house." He swallowed harshly. "It was okay, but I kept on hearing her when I sat down in her room and I had to hold Michael's hand to realise that I wasn't with Avery anymore . . . nobody was with Avery anymore.

"When I held his hand, I felt something I shouldn't have in a homophobic neighbourhood. I hated it. I hated that when I touched him, I felt really happy and excited on the inside. Is . . . is three and a half months enough time until I can move on?"

"Calum, you're allowed to be happy. Just because people tell you you're not, doesn't mean you aren't. You can be happy with anyone you want, any time you want."

Calum liked the sound of that.

***

The next day, during lunch, he dragged Michael into the auditorium. Michael was excited because he thought Calum was going to help him learn his lines. Originally, that was Calum's intention, but his attitude started to change somewhere in the middle.

"Let's start with some improv." Michael suggested.

Calum nodded, and put his hands in his pockets, smiling sadly as soon as the redhead told him they were starting. "Why'd you do it, Mikey?"