CALVIN

sixteen: the art trip

Roman appeared in the aisle, tripped over someone's luggage, cursed, shoved my backpack over and sat beside me on the train. I took one of my earphones out and looked at him. "Is there a problem?"

"Yeah, so," he was keeping his voice down, which meant that there was definitely a problem, "I seem to remember that something happened earlier this year, which involved... us making out in the Waldweg?"

"You mean, you making out with me in the Waldweg."

"I'm pretty sure it was a mutual thing."

I shook my head. "Un-mutual. No consent given. Penis, retracted."

"Yeah, well, I was drunk."

"And?"

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. "I'm not gay," he said, as his defense.

"Yeah, I'm not either. What's your point?"

"I wanted us to be cool. Because it's been a while, and I feel like you've been avoiding me."

"Roman, I forgot about what happened in the Waldweg, and now you've just rehashed the taste of vodka vomit in my mouth. Not to mention you making out with me in the Waldweg isn't the only reason to avoid you."

"Okay." he hesitated for a second. I started putting the earphone back in my ear. "Okay. Später."

...

Frau Fidge grouped everyone together in the train station. She was the type of woman who exercised practicality over style, and who I had a hard time trying to figure out why she taught visual arts instead of P.E. She usually wore hiking clothes or plain cloths and shawls. Her hair was going from dirt blond to grey naturally, was thin and straight. Despite her athletic figure, she had the demeanor of a mouse. Or a personified bowl of rice.

"I will lay out a few ground rules, before we go to the hostel. Marc?" Marc raised his hand, and Frau Fidge reached into the crowd and gave him his inhaler. "Alright." she tossed through a few papers. "Tonight you must be all back at the hostel by twenty-two o'clock. Tomorrow night you may have until midnight. We must leave for breakfast tomorrow morning at eight thirty. And please, before you go to bars, tell me."

We took a green tram into the city and found our hostel in one of the greyer back-streets. We had a whole floor booked out, two bunk-beds to each room. There was a bit of a squabble when it came to who had which room. Roman, Marc, Haluk and Cusick farted on the bedsheets of the room leading onto a fire exit to claim it as theirs, prompting Sophia to shut the door on them.

"Elias."

I looked behind me to see Frau Fidge.

"You're in theatre, right?"

"Yeah."

"How come no other theatre students came?"

I shrugged. "I guess they didn't feel... invited? I mean, there's only three of us, so..."

"And how's Otis?"

"He's good. He's... uh..." theatre instructor Otis hadn't actually showed up to class for the last two lessons, "having lots of fun, I assume."

She nodded. "He's retiring at the end of this year. He's got tired of it." the look on my face made Frau Fidge say, "You didn't know?"

I shook my head. She wandered away mysteriously and walked into someone's room. I suddenly realized the hallway was empty, until a toilet flushed to my right and Calvin stepped out of the WC. He gestured for me to use the toilet. "Oh, no, I don't have to go..."