CALVIN

thirty: the chokehold

Wearing mittens and a black parka, Patrick approached me.

It was a relatively bright day, and there were about two inches of snow on the ground. I heard his boots crunch on the ice. He sat down beside me on the concrete steps. I put my phone away.

"I feel like I'm your roommate, and I know nothing about you," he said. 

"Yeah, that's the thing. There's nothing to know, is there?"

He exhaled, probably in annoyance. "You never tell me anything. You always just shrug things off like they don't matter. Or you make your problems seem smaller than they are."

"Jesus, Patrick. Honestly, why can't you just be a Chad, for once? Like all the rest of the guys here. Like, why can't you just be one of the boys who don't even know what feelings are. Just crush a beer can on your forehead, drown out your existential sorrows with misogynistic comments, and call it a day."

"You're such a prick, Elias."

"Fuck you."

"I feel bad."

"Welcome to the club."

"I feel bad about what happened to you."

"Yeah," that was a struggle to get out. I looked at him, knowing full well there were a bit of tears in my eyes. "How do you think I feel?"

"Well, I don't know," he exclaimed. "You never tell me anything. You have this poker face all the time, lately, and it makes me think you don't care about what happens to you, or anyone else."

"I care," I said, scruffing up the front of my hair. "I just don't know what to say."

"I don't know." he shrugged. "Just, whatever you feel."

Painful laugh. "I don't know how I feel, either."

"Well why did you do it?"

"Why did I do what?"

"Overdose."

"Jesus, Pat. It's not like I wanted to - "

"Really? Who the fuck gets high on crack cocaine for four days straight and continues to pop pills even as they're overdosing - ?"

"Okay, it was not crack cocaine."

"Same thing."

"Yeah, no."

"You can say whatever you like, Elias, but... you've changed." he shifted, so he was facing me better. "I didn't even know you were taking drugs. I didn't even know you started drinking. I don't know what happened that night in Corfu. I don't know why you were letting... Ms Vecoli jack you off in the classroom. I don't know why Calvin gave you the hickey - "

"It was a game."

"But that's not, like, the biggest issue here, right? The most you could tell me about that part is that you're gay and fucking Calvin - "

"I'm not fucking gay - "

" - but the bigger issues are the other ones." he looked at me expectantly. I huffed out a breath in exasperation and looked out at the glassy classrooms, the trees, the hills in the distance. What I would give to walk away just then. But Pat would never let it slide, not now.

"I just buy drugs, and I take them to make me feel more things. Or feel better. Or zone out. Or pay attention better. Or whatever. I don't know. I don't really know what they do to me. And I drink because everyone drinks. Everyone drinks, mate, why can't I?"

"I'm not saying you can't, I'm just saying I've never known you to be a drinker. You wouldn't even touch beer before Schneider put some Coke in it. But..."