CALVIN

fifty-two: the hook-up

After Toby's accusation, Ms Vecoli never came back to English class. 

In fact, she seemed to have disappeared all-together. I stopped seeing her in the foyer, hurrying from the offices to class. I stopped seeing her walking across the courtyard to the parking lot. I even stopped seeing her husband, who taught Economics to the students in the German system.

One night I went to the Old Campus to look through their apartment window. I had thought that maybe they'd skipped town. Gone back to America, or got a job at some other international school. But the light in the kitchen window was on, and her husband was cooking. He looked kind of sad.

Word tended to travel quickly at our school. By the next day I couldn't walk to class without getting weird looks. Either sympathy or awe or disbelief. One German guy who I'd never spoken to before named Ulrich slapped me on the back in the hallway and exclaimed, "Ja! Elias! The man!" I felt disturbingly validated, but also small. I felt very small.

Maddy came to my room that night, wearing a hoodie and black leggings. "It sucks," she said.

"It sort of does."

She sat on my bed. Hunched over like she was hiding something. Her ponytail slowly became lopsided. "So. I'm going to start seeing a therapist."

"Oh," I said.

"I'm seeing three. And I'll see which one I like best."

"That's really good. I think that's good."

"I think it's good, too. I also think you should see one."

I half-shook my head. Therapy was never a question of if or when. It was a no, never. Spending a hundred euros an hour to have a shrink tell you you're worth it didn't smell very appealing to me. And I told this to Maddy.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I get it. It's not for everyone. But it's always there, you know. To try."

"I know," I said. I smiled, to try and make her feel like she was being encouraging. She saw through me.

"You know, Elias, when all this is over, I think things will be a lot better."

I looked down. When all this is over. That was a very optimistic phrase. A confident phrase. It implied that there will be an end to all the stuff that was happening - the fucked-up stuff. And I didn't know if I was ready to commit to that kind of impenetrable hope.

So I nodded. "Yeah. I think things will be better."

...

Frau Niederhofer said she saw me and Calvin in the courtyard, but she didn't see which one threw the rock. Therefore we were both going to be tried at Leitungsrat. "I thought your Leitungsrat days were over," said Denis in the lawn behind house 19.

"I feel like I'm perpetually doomed to Leitungsrat."

"Better than being doomed to addiction."

"I thought it was a coping mechanism, now."

He took a long pull on his cigarette, then stubbed it out on his forearm. Didn't even flinch. "Man, everything changes."

I nodded.

"Are you coming to clubhaus tonight?"

"Shit. That's tonight?"

"It's every Friday."

"I know. I thought they might have cancelled clubhaus, or something. I don't think it's very good for the school's image."

"Nah." he pulled out another cig. "The school always took their image for granted."