Elliot

Two

Tobias had a panic attack one night. Kyle was the one who called. "I think he needs you here more than me, man."

"What's he doing now?"

"He's sitting on the couch. We're in the living room."

"Is he still having a panic attack?"

There was a pause. "He's calmed down a bit now."

"Okay," I said. "I'll be there."

When I got off the phone, my father and Clara were staring at me with a worried look etched on their faces. Then Dad's face calmed. It looked like he had read my mind and understood what was going on. Sometimes I wonder if he was a mind reader.

"Go, son," he said. "Be there for him."

"I will."

And then I left and ran like my life depended on it. When I arrived, Tobias was sleeping on the couch. Kyle was the one who answered the door. We greeted each other with a smile. "He didn't want to go to his room. He said he'd wait for you," he said.

Such a Tobias thing to do.

"Did he take his meds?"

"Yeah. All secured. He's done eating dinner also."

I nodded and kept staring at Tobias. He looked so peaceful when sleeping. I wonder what he was dreaming of.

"I'm gonna leave you here now. There's pizza left in the fridge if you're hungry," he said.

"Got it. Thanks, dude."

Kyle left with a smile. I crouched down beside the sofa. I stroked Tobias' hair and felt its strands slipping in between my fingers. I placed a kiss on his forehead, and that's when his eyes opened.

"You came."

"Of course."

He responded with a soft smile, then sat up and patted the empty space beside him. I climbed onto the couch and sat, then Tobias rested his head on my shoulders. "How you feelin'?" I said.

"Pretty decent now," he said.

"Pretty calmed down?"

He took my hand and held it to his chest. I felt his heart beating slowly. I felt like I was touching his heart. "That will beat faster now 'cause you're here," he said.

"Your cheesy remarks are so getting out of hand."

Tobias chuckled. "I'm just tryna lighten the mood."

"What did you eat for dinner?"

"Pizza," he said. "I also took my medications."

"Yeah. Kyle mentioned."

"So he's not 'your roommate' now?"

I rolled my eyes. "Give me a break. I suck at remembering names."

"Okay." He chuckled.

It was nearing summer, but the air inside the apartment was so cold. I breathed in Tobias' messy hair. He smelled like sweet vanilla. I buried my nose on his hair. I could smell it forever, if that's possible. That's such a weird thing to say.

"Are you smelling my hair?"

"No, I'm eating it."

Tobias laughed. "You are so weird."

"Hey, that's my line!" I said.

"Not anymore." We both laid down and snuggled on the tight couch. I've always liked holding and hugging Tobias. It always felt like home. I bet he felt the same way. He took a deep breath. It's like he's carrying something in his chest that he couldn't set free. I wonder what it was.

"Elliot," he said.

"Tobias." I said.

He was quiet. "When we get older and I get to the point where I start forgetting things 'cause of, you know, age," he said. "will you promise to remind me of everything?"

Everything seems a lot. But for him, for us, it was something that meant more.

"Of course, Tobias." I said.

"Okay."

I pulled the blanket to us. And we were quiet for a moment. I started to think that Tobias was falling asleep. The whole world was silent. I caressed my thumb on the back of his hand. But he spoke again. "Who am I, Elliot?"

"Is this our rehearsal?"

"Maybe." I knew he was smiling.

"You are Tobias Antoine. You are a twenty-one-year-old college student. You're a major in photography. You built a club called The French Society. You hate kids just like I do. You are French. You have wicked brown eyes. You are undeniably weird. You are a work of art. Your smile is my cup of coffee. You are the bright moon in the sky that I always look forward to see whenever I look up at night. You are a golden boy. And you are my home."

I like to think that he smiled at everything that I said.

"And you are?"

"I am an eighteen-year-old college student. I am a major in painting. I was your assistant in The French Society. I dyed my hair white once and you liked it a lot. I am American. I am your comfort. I am the medication for your sadness. If I would be a poet, you would be my weirdly beautiful poetry."

His eyes looked at me. "Who are you?"

"I am Elliot." I held him tighter. "And I would never let you go."