CALVIN

twenty-seven: the flood

Back in the frigid, grey ruralscape of school, Pat and I sat on a rock in the parking lot, waiting for our food delivery. Bundled in parkas and gloves, a beanie in my case, a scarf in his case, my knee was bouncing unstoppably and he was involuntarily cracking his knuckles. 

Finally, he spoke.

"Do you remember..."

"No."

He sighed out of his nose. "Can I just ask if you're okay, then?"

"Sure."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, Patrick, I'm fine." I hugged myself. "It's been days."

"You haven't spoken that much, during those days."

I didn't answer him. I hoped our delivery driver would arrive soon; I stared down the empty countryside street as if I could conjure the Volkswagen Golf Mk4 out of thin air.

"Elias, please tell me what happened."

"I told you I can't remember."

"That's bullshit."

"Did you not see how much shit I took and shots I drank that night? You didn't do half as much as me and I'm surprised you even remember a third of it."

"You had cum on your face," he muttered.

"I sucked a guy's dick, so what?"

"I'm pretty sure Raynor was at least twenty-six years old."

"Remind me again how old Vicky was?" Ah, Vicky: Patrick's middle-aged lust of life from the Corfu club.

"I'm seventeen. Almost eighteen."

"How does that make any difference?"

"Look," his voice suddenly dropped an octave, and I knew I was about to meet Serious Patrick again, "anyone could tell that my state of mind and your state of mind after our respective affairs were vastly different. I was totally fine. Happy, even. Came home, took a shower, short nap, had a little dance. You came home hours later than me, all dirty and sweating with cum all over you, puking your guts out, having a panic attack on the toilet floor, crying, completely drugged-out - shall I go on? I feel responsible, because I'm the one who dragged you to Greece with me - "

My tone got icy. "Mate, you're not responsible."

"Then talk to me. Tell me who is."

"No one is! Or - I am! And it's none of your business and I knew exactly what I was doing and..." I suddenly stopped, shivering. "Fuck." I bent down to press my forehead against my knees then straightened up again, exhaled. "Fuck." Breathing was all of a sudden very hard, and my heart felt like it was in my throat. My skin, under all my winter layers, was tingling. I scrunched my eyes closed and re-opened them - was I getting tunnel vision?

"Elias?"

I shook my head, clutched my chest with my hands. I struggled to take in a single breath. My leg was bouncing faster. Shook my head again.

"Breathe - " his gloved hand latched onto my shoulder, "mate - breathe."

I let out a breath that was more of a sob; Pat pulled my face into his shoulder. I sucked in as much breath as I could, tried to feel my extremities again. I could feel his hand rubbing up and down my outside arm, heard him saying, "breathe."

"I sucked his dick and I don't know if I wanted to or not because I... kept thinking about Ms Vecoli and Calvin and Ana and he fucked me with his... fucking fingers anyways. I'm such a failure. I'm such a fucking failure."