CALVIN

forty-nine: the elite german boarding school

Cleaned me up. Dragged me to her car. Drove me back to the new campus. Took me into house 19 and up to my room.

Got me into bed.

I sat with my back against the wall, trying to put the world straight.

"Thanks, Ms Vecoli," said Patrick. He was standing at the foot of my bed, as if guarding me. 

"Don't mention it. Elias, are you alright?"

I didn't answer her - I couldn't. There was nothing I could do, or say, or mimic. I was trapped. Held hostage in my own head. I think they took my silence as me being completely out of it, off this planet entirely. And in a way I was. But I could still hear them.

Pat stopped her from leaving. "Ms Vecoli, can I just ask... why?"

It wasn't a very specific question. But he didn't have to be specific for her to understand what he meant. 

"It..." she was searching for words that weren't there. 

"To a student."

"I know."

"Sixteen years old."

"I know."

"Why?"

"Patrick, I don't know. I don't know. I try not to think about it. I try to pretend it never happened. But I know that reality differs greatly from what's happening up here." she gestured to her head. "I hurt him, haven't I?"

I could hear the disbelief in Pat's voice. "What the hell do you think?"

"But it isn't textbook hurt."

Silence. She continued, carefully.

"He's hurt because it ended like this. What we did wasn't violent, or immediately destructive. In a way it was innocent." When Pat started to object, she cut over him: "From his side. Innocent from his side. It's everything that came from it which hurt him. The realization that it was wrong, from my side. The realization that in that way, I betrayed him. That loss of trust. Maybe the loss of innocence.

"But it's hard to know what Elias thinks."

"What Elias thinks shouldn't matter. It's what you did to him. Or with him. Or whatever. Look, I know it wasn't violent. I know from his side it probably felt like a mutual thing. But you should have known better, Ms Vecoli. He loved you and you could have left it at that. Instead you ruined it."

The following quietness was so loud. There was no movement, nothing. It sounded like she was agreeing with him. 

"Take care of him, Patrick. Don't let him destroy himself. And... don't let anybody else destroy him."

...

Roman was set to give a speech to kick-start the week. The entire school was sitting anxiously in assembly, waiting to hear how the school speaker would address the latest events. When he finally walked on stage, everyone held their breath. Especially Mr Taylor, who was sitting in the front row, clasping his hands together. Probably to keep them from shaking.

Roman's Ukrainian-American accent cutting through the silence. "Dear students, faculty and staff. As the voice of the student body, it is my responsibility to acknowledge the recent..."

There was a rustle coming down my row of seats. Something was being passed down the students. When it reached me, I realized it was a folded note. I was about to pass it on to Jesus, who was sitting beside me, until I read the name written on the front: Elias.

I looked around, wondering where the culprit was, who the culprit was. Though I had a bit of an idea. 

Opened the note. Read the sloppy handwriting.