TORPEDO ✓

stand the f up, we are dreaming

THEY DON'T MEET AFTER REACHING camp. They don't pick bones after Giovanni has been collected enough to tell a story. Dorian wakes up with a pounding headache and an empty space on the sleeping bag, still warm to touch but cold with memory.

Frowning, Dorian takes off from his butt and jogs out of the tent, straight to a spectacle of rocks arranged in a ring. This is where campers have meals like a "family". And you just have to be there, eating with your "family" because outside food is prohibited from camping, and they were all thoroughly searched before jumping off the bus; with high hopes that, the students can cross any form of immorality off their high highschool bucket list.

To his chagrin, Giovanni isn't there either but that is barely a surprise. That boy is a weird thing.

"Yo man."

Bruce spins on the balls of his feet to face Dorian. "Oh good, the suicide hotline is awak--"

"Shhhh," Dorian sputters while covering the bigger boy's mouth full of pasta and, castor sauce?

"Lay off." Bruce shakes Dorian off, rolling his eyes. "About last night; what the fuck were you thinking?"

"Ugh, this is not the time. This ain't the time."

"I wonder when it will be then." Bruce shrugs, shoving his mouth with more pasta. "Probably until that boy takes your life."

"Look, I'll answer your questions later," Dorian says, placing a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "But first, where is Gio?"

The other boy turns to scan the breakfast ring. "Beats me. Haven't seen his lanky ass since last night." Then Bruce gasps.

Dorian's mouth leaps to his throat. "What?" Like Bruce has confirmed his fears with barely a syllable.

"You...don't think?"

"No, I don't fucking think," Dorian replies, turning on the aggressive. "Where is Gio?"

"Goodluck bro." And Bruce goes back to the ring for his third serving.

"Fucking useless, nitwit, grains-for-brains," Dorian huffs and marches back to base, straight to their teacher who is right now, playing Candy Crush on some rock and it appears the greying man's mind is miles away from the students he is paid to look after.

"Mr Christian."

No response.

"Sir, please I need--"

"Need what, Dorian, what now?" says the man whose face is now distorted as if to say "shoo" to an alley cat reeking of rabies.

Frankly, Dorian doesn't care what else the man has to say if it won't involve Giovanni, because this same damn man gave him a B- for forgetting to write his student ID in a test.

"Where is Gio?"

The man raises a greying brow. "Clearly, you weren't given any manners from home."

"I'm sorry sir," Dorian corrects himself, taking note of how jittery his hands are being. All this and for just that one boy? He can say Gio owes him but to what cost if the damn boy has probably deaded himself at the moment of speaking.

Dorian continues, "Please, do you know of the whereabouts of Giovanni Price? His friends have been searching for him all morning." He scoffs mentally. Gio and "friends" are like crackers and mayo. They don't go well at all.

"Good!" Christian stands to his feet, dusting his cargo pants. "Now that wasn't so bad afterall, was it?"

"Ugh, motherfucker. I don't have the time for this," but of course Doria does not say this out. "Giovanni, we were together all night but I woke up and poof, he's gone! At least, tell me he took an exeat."