CALVIN

fifty-four: the expulsion

There was a knock on the door.

"Fuck."

Calvin sat up. Got a tissue from his bedside table and wiped the stuff from his stomach. He started getting dressed. "We're supposed to have a family meeting at nine-thirty, with my grandparents over Skype. I completely forgot."

I heard Mr Taylor's voice in the hallway. "Calvin? Is Elias in there?"

"Yeah, dad," Calvin said loudly. "Don't come in."

Mr Taylor was saying something else, but I was too preoccupied with how wet my clothes still were to hear him. Calvin flung open his wardrobe and tossed some of his own clothes at me - navy trousers and a multicoloured jumper.

The door opened and Calvin, who still hadn't gotten his shirt on or fly done up, said, "Dad I said don't come in!"

"I th-think Elias should go back to his house now, we have that appointment -"

"Dad, he's going."

Mr Taylor's head peaked around the wall. I was putting on my shoes. He seemed to pause at the fact that something unholy had just happened between his son and me, but didn't acknowledge it. "I don't know if - uh - charging into other peoples' homes is very appropriate, boys."

"Sorry, Mr Taylor."

It was awkward. Not only because of the open lube bottle on the bedside table, which I hoped Mr Taylor would think was an innocent body cream, or something, but because of everything transpiring behind the scenes. The serious things I'd done in the last week. The Leitungsrat hearing tomorrow. The rock I'd thrown at his office window. The allegations against Ms Vecoli, and against himself. The school being trashed by the media and random people on Twitter. And remarkably me and him were at the core of it all, connected by the mess.

I left house 8. My inability to process what had just happened made me feel anxious. A few months ago I would have been walking out of Calvin's bedroom feeling like Jesus did the day Red Dead Redemption II came out: unbearably giddy. On the walk back to house 19, though, I felt good, but also heavy. Like I was reaching the top of a coveted summit but my limbs were weighed down by gravity and supplies. Heart pounding with accomplishment but limbs aching and sore.

I walked into my house to see everyone in the living room. I stopped dead. "Don't tell me Nikita has another PowerPoint."

When he looked at me, Nikita's mouth enlarged into a huge grin. "Why's your hair like that?"

"Like what?" I caught a reflection of myself in the kitchen window. Sure, it was a bit messy. Not really how I usually wear it. But there was nothing remarkable about my hair.

Suddenly Leon shot up from the sofa, like he'd just solved the Hodge conjecture. He started clapping, head shaking from side to side in amazement.

"Very subtle," said Pat, catching on. "Calvin practically wears that sweater every day."

My voice was an octave too high. "What?"

Jesus looked around, confused. "I don't get it. Why are we clapping?"

Leon stepped over the coffee table and was coming towards me. "Phenomenal. Outstanding. Couldn't be more proud." His heavy arm slung around my shoulders. "How does it feel to finally be a man, Elias?"

Jesus: "Wait - Elias had sex?"

"With Calvin," Nikita said coyly.

I put my hands out. "Nikita."

Denis put his bowl of pasta down. "Hold on, why is Calvin boning every guy from our house? Am I next?"

"None of us are safe," said Ehsan.