"Rough night?" Sam chuckled as he pushed the bathroom door open, stepping over my legs and Seb's limp body.
"You could say that." I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and pushed my back towards the cabinet in an attempt to clear some space.
"Why are you even in here, Cal?" Sam whispered after poking Seb's back several times. He didn't wake.
"Well, I woke up and Sebastian wasn't in bed, and—I don't know. I found him here and I wanted to stay."
"Mm," he hummed, tugging on his sweatpants and nestling his feet between Seb and the toilet. "You don't think he could feel your support from, I don't know, ten feet to his right?"
I grimaced as he pissed right in front of me, completely unphased by the lack of room and my presence. "He wasn't doing too hot, Sam. Is it really that big of a deal?"
His eyes landed on mine, icier than usual. With a shrug, he muttered, "he wouldn't do it for you."
And then he left, and I was in the dark again, alone with Sebastian and my thoughts. Seb stirred slightly, the tile clinking in collision with his rings. I watched him sleep, lost in the memories that we shared and the person he used to be. The way I used to see summer nights and snow days, shared milkshakes and teenage rebellion in his eyes; the way that I now saw nothing but a sullen snapshot of what once was. A version of him that I knew Sam knew, too, but had seemingly grown cold to; disinterested.
"Fuck," Seb groaned, peeling himself off of the floor and pressing his cheek back onto the toilet seat. There was nothing left for him to puke up; I wasn't sure if he knew this. His gaze met mine, and he groaned, "Jesus, Callie, get out!"
This time I did; my face steamed as I stood up and slammed the door behind me, hoping my footsteps rattled the bathroom as I ascended upstairs. I watched the rain through the kitchen window, eventually slumping into a wooden chair and laying my head on the table. I'd barely slept, taking care of Sebastian. He'd wake suddenly and begin to heave, and I would help hoist him off of the ground and hold back stray hairs from his face. His eyes would flutter closed as yellow-tinged bile spilled out of his mouth, his entire body weight leaned haphazardly onto me and collapsing backwards if I let go of his shoulders. He may not have wanted me around, but he needed help, and I swallowed just as much pride as he did to be there. Fuck him.
"Callie?" Abigail said quietly, emerging into the kitchen. Her hair was a mess, some plum strands protruding in conflicting directions and others plastered to her head. "You good?"
"Mhm," I replied. "Never better, matter of fact."
She sighed and pulled out the chair beside mine. "What's up?"
"Sebastian was sick last night, like, terribly. It was a lot."
"He wasn't grateful, was he?"
"Not even close."
A heavy silence settled between us; I could almost feel her own thoughts giving her vertigo. "What's on your mind?"
She bit her lip. "He kissed me last night."
"He—what?" Panic began to spread through me, my heart rate soaring. "When?"
"After you and Sam had fallen asleep," she muttered. "He was really shitfaced, I mean, seriously. We were trying to find a battery for this lantern thing he found in his desk, both rummaging through piles of crap. At one point, I was so focused that I didn't see him behind me, and I absolutely smacked the shit out of him when I stood up. I'm freaking out of course, trying to see if I'd scratched him or given him a black eye or a concussion, I don't know, I was high. But he was looking at me with those eyes, Cal, and I wasn't thinking straight. He went for it, and I let him. We didn't talk afterwards. He stumbled to his bed and rolled over, and then I laid down next to you, and I woke up to you heading up here." The words were spilling out of her mouth uncontrollably, the pace of the conversation accelerating as she reached the details that she didn't want to share.
"Okay," I replied coolly. I could feel her eyes boring into me. "Are you guys—"
"No," she didn't let me finish. "I could never, not after everything that happened with you two."
My cheeks were starting to heat up. "Nothing happened between us."
"Cal," she whispered, putting her hand on my shoulder. "You and him have a history, and we all know it. It doesn't matter what happened, what matters is how it has affected the now. That it does affect the now. What kind of friend would I be to go for him?"
My mind flickered back to Sebastian in the bathroom, his broken voice asking for Abigail as I walked in. How, unbeknownst to me, their lips were no longer strangers, and how a lump of emotion now sat stagnantly in my throat thinking about it.
"Sebastian and I...we resent each other, Abby," I sighed. "We used to be friends, and now we aren't. That shouldn't affect how you feel about him—clearly it doesn't affect how he feels about you."
"Cal—"
"I promise."
"I don't want to be with him."
An unwelcome wave of relief washed over me, but I could sense there was more. "Do you want, like, something else with him?"
Abby was never a good liar, even when we were kids. Her cheeks would flush and she would gnaw at her cuticles until the crevices flooded with blood, averting her eyes from the victim's gaze until she blurted out the truth. Now, as she sat across from me—fiddling with the silver ring on her left thumb—I couldn't help but wait for the other shoe to drop.
"I felt something awful when he kissed me," she whispered. "Something fiery—something that my head and my heart were completely uninvolved in. I—I want to feel that again."
"A girl has needs," I smiled weakly after a moment of stiff silence, hoping she couldn't see through me. "It's not always logical, and that's alright. You don't have to like him to want to, well—"
"Okay, enough," she giggled, cupping her hand over my mouth. "You aren't mad?"
"At you? Never."
And it was true—I wasn't mad. It was something much more complex; something that I couldn't voice and Abigail couldn't understand. It was a feeling that had settled beneath my bones long ago and could only be dug up by him, by the things he did and their consequences. Abigail had no hand in it and didn't deserve to feel the weight of his actions on me. She deserved to do what felt good, and if, somehow, he could do that for her, then so be it.
"Good morning, ladies," Demetrius said as he walked in the kitchen, heading for the cupboard. "Would either of you like some tea?"
"Oh, no thanks," Abigail chirped. "I was just about to head downstairs and see what everyone is up to. Thank you, though!"
Demetrius nodded, gave me a pointed look, and said, "I know tea is an offer you can't refuse, Callie!"
I giggled as Abigail disappeared and her footsteps thundered down the stairs, nodding my head. "You might be right."
The kettle roared, interrupting the light quiet between us, and Demetrius hurried over to remove it from the singular stove top; it was battery operated and took its time heating up the water. Two mugs sat to its right, tea bags already draped inside. I breathed in the herbal scent and allowed it to calm my nerves.
"Here you are," he said, sliding my cup towards me and sitting down where Abigail had. "How are you?"
"Oh, I'm just fine," I replied. He pursed his lips in disbelief.
"Are you?"
"Yes." I maintained the lie.
"Oh, Callie, you are so see-through," he said with a soft smile. "I can tell something is bothering you, and it's okay that you don't want to share. Why don't you join me in the lab for a bit, to get your mind off of it? I could use the company."
I nodded and stood with him, grabbing my mug before following him down a short staircase into the lab. It was eerie without any light, the white tiles flashing in response to the lightning strikes outside. He summoned me to an isolated counter where various beakers and concoctions lived, alongside pages of scribbled notes and statistics.
"You know, I study wildlife, mostly," he started. "My bachelor's was in biology—I was on a pre-med track. I decided after undergrad to pursue marine biology rather than human; I wanted to move somewhere beautiful, like the Valley, and still be able to be in touch with my passions. It never filled me up like human medicine did, but it was something."
I nodded along, wondering where his story was going. "Have you ever thought about going to med school, now?" I asked.
"Oh, no," he chuckled lightly. "I love the Valley—my family, the community, its sheer natural beauty—far too much to consider moving away. Plus, Harvey's got everything under control down at the clinic; I'd trust him with my life. Anyway, all of this to say, I've been having quite a fun time combining my expertise of the land with my foundational knowledge of human medicine. Little herbal remedies, if you will. Don't get me wrong, I will never rely on these over modern medicine, but it's been fun nonetheless."
I smiled. "You're reminding me of my grandpa. He never knew anything about actual medicine, but he would always find these little books around town filled with random advice and test them out. Ginger for nausea, things like that. I was young, so it always felt magical—he'd pull something out of the ground and it would fix my problem."
"Believe it or not, Randall actually introduced me to the idea!" Demetrius grinned. "Robin was down at Harvey's for her knee surgery at the same time as him, and I guess they got to talking. He suggested to her that I try it out—" he leaned over and began digging through a bin beneath the counter, "—and gave me this."
Laying in his palm was a tiny book, the title faded and the spine cracking. I flipped open the first page, feeling tears flood my eyes as I saw his handwriting.
Demetrius,
I hope you're able to find some fun in playing around with this old thing. I saw a few tidbits about muscle pain, stiff joints, the works—there may be some tips worth checking out while Robin is recovering (tell Harvey to give her the strong stuff, too!). Can't have her out of commission for too long—someone's gotta fix up that old farm for Miss Callista once I'm gone!
It's been a pleasure knowing you and your family. You and Robin are integral to this community, and your Sebastian has been integral to my Callista. I can never repay you for being such great neighbors.
In another life,
Randall
I ran my fingers over the indents in the pages, the spots where his pen put too much pressure and left behind a divot and an extra bead of ink. I resented that this piece of him was poisoned by Sebastian, too. It was starting to feel like he appeared in every memory: he created the bad, tainted the good, and had even found a way to silently hurt me now. Your Sebastian has been integral to my Callista.
"Callie," Demetrius whispered, taking the book and putting his hand on my shoulder. "I know things with you and Sebastian are rocky right now, and that they have been for a while. You're not alone in that. I've struggled to connect with him, too," he sighed. "That doesn't mean he doesn't care, it means he doesn't know how to show it. And maybe he doesn't want to show it, because he's scared, or 'too man,' to be vulnerable. I don't know what happened between you two, but keep your chin up, alright? Nothing lasts forever."
I thanked him quietly, standing up to go. Out of everything he said, only one thing had truly proven itself real, time and time again.
Nothing lasts forever.