I waited a few minutes before they let me in, and Dan looked up curiously from his hospital bed as I felt the nurse leave the room.
"You're skipping class."
"No."
He raised his eyebrows.
I dragged a chair to his side. "So what?"
He glanced at the tray of food by his bedside and shrugged.
He didn't ask again, but I could tell that he wanted to.
There was a single rose now, a new edition to his bedside table. Its leaves were fresh, the petals a deep shade of blood red. He caught me staring.
"It was there when I woke up."
No body else had visited him, and now I wished I had more friends around. Someone to drag with me with to those sad visits. Someone who he could be friends with too.
"Tell me about the friend you're staying with," he said.
"Tell me why you left first."
He tugged at his hospital gown. "Not yet."
There was a distant sound of a machine beeping. The curtains by his window fluttered, distorting the shape of a flying bird.
"She's funny," I said. "And likes being all up in other people's business. But she's really nice, and smart, and-"
He laughed. "Did you sleep with her?"
I frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?"
He laughed again, then winced as if it brought him pain. "You did. And you're still with her. Is she your girlfriend?"
I almost snorted. "No."
"Why not?"
"Dan," I said. "I'm not going to talk about my nonexistent love life with you."
He reached out for a yoghurt cup and made a face. "Why not?"
"Cause yours was very existent."
He grinned. "Yeah. So?"
"So?" I helped him unwrap a spoon from its plastic confines. "So it makes it feel like I've never been in a relationship."
"Don't worry," he said as he filled a spoon with yoghurt. "I've never been in one either."
—
Jake,
Tom and Jesse are kind of back together (still questionable, but things are stable for now). I know you were kinda worried about that when you were here. Maybe you still are, so I thought letting you know would be a good idea.
And I told Ian. He stared at me blankly when I told him, then carried on with his assignment as if nothing had happened. I don't know. Maybe he doesn't care (?), or maybe he's keeping things in for now until it bubbles up and he goes off on a rampage or something. Anyway, I think it was a good idea that I waited until you left to tell him.
I didn't have a chance to let you know when you were here, but they finally tore down that building you liked.
Otherwise, things are pretty normal back here.
I hope your roommate's okay. And talk to Raphael.
Reply soon.
Nate
—
Raphael was leaning against the back door, a cigarette in his mouth. "Hey."
I wanted to walk away but he was there. I was pathetic, helpless, and weak. And he was there. Standing there in his skinny jeans, black shirt made of a see-through mesh material, a sharp plunge that fell halfway down his chest. He might as well have been naked. I remembered how he looked naked. It was hard to forget.
"Hey," I said, forcing my shoulders to relax.
He smiled around his cigarette, stretching his pale neck to the side. "I'm drunk."
"I can tell," I said stiffly.
"I can't see you very well." His words were slurred, barely sounding one letter after the other.
I didn't even think about it as I stepped closer to him, and closer to the street lamp that cast grotesque shadows across the wall. "Been a while," I said.
"Two weeks and two days," he said, flicking his cigarette aside. "Twenty cigarette packs, thirty drinks, two and a half fucks."
I ignored the way my stomach plummeted. "Half a fuck?"
"He left mid-way." He said, threading his fingers through the belt loops around his jeans. "Wasn't my fault."
"Of course not."
"What 'bout you?" he staggered slightly as he leaned away from the wall and slowly neared closer to me.
I looked away. "Wasn't counting."
His fingers touched the back of my neck, and he roughly pulled me towards him by my hair. "Liar."
I refused to say a word. His eyes were so blue.
His fingers loosened around my hair. "Did you fuck him?"
"Who?"
"You know who." He was drunk, but Raphael's gaze was sharp and attentive. He would remember this tomorrow.
"No."
He dropped his hand from my neck, and I caught an image on his wrist as it fell to his side, but quickly looked away before I could decipher it. "Good."
"Why do you care?"
He laughed. "You know why."
I looked away. "No, I don't actually."
"Jake."
I tore myself away from him.
"I was jealous."
"I know," I said. "You made it pretty obvious."
"Jake," he said again, this time, stepping forward again.
I wanted to pull him even closer. I could still feel the way his fingers felt around my hair, his warm breath against my skin. It was like he never stopped touching me. I wanted that back, the taste of cigarettes on his lips, his fingers tracing invisible images on the inside of my arms. But every time I thought of taking a step forward, it felt like he was taking one back.
I wanted to ask why he was here. In the backstreet of the same club we visited the night his kisses traveled much farther than just the side of my neck. His back bent over his desk in the middle of the night, my heart racing, my skin smelling like him for hours afterwards.
His voice was a quiet hush when he spoke again, and if it wasn't for his dilated pupils and sluggish movements, I would have assumed he was sober. "I keep drawing you. I have an obsession with drawing lips that look alarmingly like your own. Or your ears, or your hair, or your eyes. And, and it's not like I mean to. I just find myself doing it. I'd grab my pencil, think of anything but you, and then you're all I can see." He laughed, carelessly twisting the cigarette around his fingers. "I can't say I hate it."
I followed the slope of his nose and down to his lips with my eyes in a ridiculous effort to forget about what he just said.
"We can still be friends-"
I felt myself laughing. "Friends."
His eyes fell to my lips, and he took another drag. "Whatever."
I was suddenly pushing him against the wall, could feel his rapid breathing as our chests pressed together. He dropped the cigarette and kicked it aside. "Why would I be friends with you?" I asked. "If I can't even trust you."
He shrugged me off, and I didn't expect the strength that came along with it, almost stumbling back. Instead, I pushed harder, wedging a leg between his. Retaliating. "Tell me."
His eyes were the hooks of deep, dark waves crashing against rocks of sharp, brown colored edges. "'Cause I'm a good kisser."
"Do you kiss all your friends?"
His lips twisted. "Only the ones who ask nicely."
I pushed against him, and took a step back. "I don't want to see you again."
He licked his lips. "It's a small city."
"You know your way around better than I do," I said. "So when you see me, do us both a favor and walk away."
Idk when or what or why but it's like I forgot how to write long chapters?? lol wtvsss
Thanks for reading anyway!! xx