Wildflowers in Bloom

A moment of stillness

There is rarely a passing day that I don’t think about it. Except that’s not even true, and this, now, is the first time I’ve thought about it in a week and a half. It’s only through some brutal confrontation, some gust of wind which throws my papers into the air and forces me to get on my knees and recount them, that I can push my head against the barrel and let the thought in. Right through the fucking forehead.

And it feels strangely good to think about, submerged in a dream that still just about feels real, until you notice the interdimensional lamp in the corner. Then I come around in a heavy sweat, only to realise I’d been awake all along, staring into the wall or pushing the swing, back and forth, and back, and forth. Over, and over. And over.

I’m not a bad person – I mean I’ve never killed anyone, I’ve never raped anyone. Never broken another’s limbs or stolen money from someone, never cheated on anyone. I’ve never tried to hurt people. I have responsibilities now. I have a proper job, I have an infant son. I feel the emptiest I have ever felt. I don’t even think I love him. Love feels too distant of a concept to grasp right now. I know I care. I know I want to protect. I know I’ve felt all of this before, with Sammy, which seems to undermine this whole fatherhood in a cruel twist of fate. Every soulful warmth I get from holding him, from kissing him, from reading to him, feels like a plagiarised essay which I’ve read before, just six years ago, with another professor. I smell him sometimes, in the red sweater he stole from me, then one day returned. I love women, and I have loved women, but I don’t love men. Only one, which is a much more sobering loneliness.

So, I think about him at night, the closest friend I’ve ever had. I think about how we met in year thirteen, in Friday detention. Why had he got one? I had asked. Lateness. Why had I? Lateness. We smirked, I introduced myself. Was he new? I hadn’t seen him at Ackmore before. He didn’t sound like he was from Yorkshire. Transferred this year. Only College that’s got the same courses, exam boards and that. His parents were Southerners, but raised him here. One of us. Good, I laughed. Has he made any friends? It was the third week of September. Not really, not yet. Well there was a house party happening that night, if he wanted to be my plus one, consider it a warm welcome. Could introduce him to the others.

I don’t really know why I did that. My mates were all good-looking guys and attractive girls. Sammy was new, and kind of enchanting, I had observed. He seemed quiet enough, had salty black hair which faintly curled at the ends, hollow cheeks and a slight curvature down the nose ridge, eyes of such dark brown they were black. Quite unreadable. Quite sexy, in the way one man respects another man’s beauty. I didn’t need to justify my admiration, I analysed most people in this way. His body seemed slim but powerful, I would later learn he had been a swimmer, competitively, through adolescence. Somewhat muscular arms, concealed away, or maybe it was the thickness of the woollen jumper. Regardless, I plucked him, there and then, for an audition to be one of the guys. One of us.

I knew I was liked by most people, which was a strange kind of power to have. It’s the kind of power which either disintegrates quickly, or persists but doesn’t extend to your opinion of yourself. I enjoyed it though, being popular. It made talking to everyone outside of my friend group feel like a kindness. An endorsement of my character. It made bringing Sammy to Freddie’s party feel like shining a light on someone in the dark. I knew how much of an arse this usually makes young men, but I tried never to let it go to my head. I was attractive, athletic, brunette. I had the kind of hair that was messily styled, without really much styling. I had an easy time. I think people found me approachable, like they could talk to me about anything, although none of them ever really did. I was approachable enough to never be approached, kind enough to not be intimidating, yet that friendliness only elevated me higher: alienated me further. Holier than thou. My friends in College would joke around. Sometimes it went too far; we were boys, and they could be mean. They cared about themselves, and me, and not much else. The ruling class didn’t care to include the village, and still the palace stood strong. They had probably bullied kids that I might’ve held the door for; I never got much involved in it. They were my friends, after all. They can do what they like. Just as I can invite any old outsider to come to Freddie’s tonight. A portion of my motivation was to bring a new face like catch of the day, for Nova or someone. A new guy always gives the order a rejumbling. Maybe I thought of it as a favour to anyone who might find the stranger attractive. Providing another neanderthalic droid to swipe some girl’s virginity in a party bathroom. This was a service. Or maybe it was a favour to the stranger himself. He seemed to have black sheep syndrome. His presence in that classroom was so obvious, his novelty was readable. In the way he was listening to the register being called out, his darting glance to match names to faces. The way he stared up at me when I walked in, late to the late detention, eyes of somehow both vacancy and passion that pulled me down and commanded me to sit beside him.

And that was it. After my invitation he offered a courteous smile, muttered a “thanks, maybe,” and cracked open a textbook.

“Give me your phone”, I extended my hand before he could disappear into private study.

He placed the object in my outstretched palm, only following with a faux offended “why?” after the fact. I flashed it back in front of his face and once signed in, opened contacts and put in my number. I texted myself gibberish turned it off.

“I’ll message you the address later. In case you feel like coming, is all.” I handed it back, and retreated to my own work, ignoring the sharp frown shot at me by Mr Lewis, the exhausted old horse that they drag out for detention duty every Friday.

________________________________________

I took a case of twelve beers that night, downing one on the way to Freddie’s. He lived about a twenty minutes’ walk away from me, and we’d been close friends since year seven. All our parents were wealthy enough to send us to a private school, then a private College, but Freddie’s mum was a Solicitor, and his dad did something in finance, whenever I had asked. He had a pool, he even had a pool table, so he had always been the main party host.

“Alright Jude?” He greeted me at the door, I stepped in and took off my jacket but kept my shoes on.

“Alright.” There were a few people already there. Maddie, Josie, Josie’s friend, Nova, Jacob, Matteo and Sophia. There were other faces I didn’t recognise, who were probably from the other local private school – Balamore College. They were all stood outside, through the sliding glass door, pouring a drink or sipping on one.

“Jude’s here,” Matteo walks over to me, and takes the case of Corona from my hand.

“How was detention?” Nova smirks at me. She sniggers, I smile back. With performative nonchalance, I give an unbothered shrug.

“It went.” Jacob walked over and handed me a cup. “What is it?”

“Rum and coke mate.”

“Emphasis on the rum,” Nova retorted between sips of her own red cup. “I mean Christ Jacob did you put any coke in this?”

Jacob smirked proudly. “It’s diet.” He spun on his heel and walked away again, further into the garden.

Nova’s eyes almost rolled back into her head, then returned to me. “Mr Bingham’s retiring you know.” I didn’t know, and I didn’t really care that much.

“Oh.” I began. “I thought he was like, fifty.”

“He is. It’s a bit of a scandal really.” She sets her cup down on the table beside us and selects a large bottle of Smirnoff. “He had an affair with Mrs Parsons. They’re both married of course, and that’s like totally not allowed because he’s in a position of power over her.” Nova’s mum was the head of the academy trust, and she definitely shouldn’t be telling me this. “But her husband doesn’t even know. He works at the school and he doesn’t even fucking know! It’s hilarious.”

“Riveting stuff Nova.” Matteo took a large gulp from a bottle.

“If you’ve got a better story, the floor’s yours,” Nova snapped back, adding a hushed “dickhead”.

A moment of silence passed between the three of us. The larger group further up the garden were much louder, and we just listened in mutual exhaustion of civilities. I was the one to break it.

“Who’s Freddie invited this time?”

Nova and Matteo exchanged a knowing glance.

“What?”

“He invited a bunch of Balamore, Matthew’s group mainly but some others I think.” Matteo glanced to Nova to deliver me the rest. There was clearly something else.

“…And some of the girls from Tolworth.” Nova stopped abruptly, and sipped her vodka lemonade awkwardly.

I looked them both in the eye, individually, and their gaze scrambled away at the confrontation.

“Guys,” I began, “what?”.

Matteo sighed. “He invited Josephine.” They both looked at me like I was about to eat them.

“Okay,” I spoke slowly, like I was stood on a trip mine. “So? We’re just friends.”

“She definitely doesn’t think that,” Nova blurted out. Matteo took another swig.

“Why not?”

“She’s crazy, that’s why,” Matteo concluded defiantly.

“Oh, be fair Matty,” Nova looked at him with a cloud of judgement. She looked me dead in the eyes. “Freddie may have told her you’re interested.”

I stared at her blankly.

“Are you?” Matteo asked sheepishly.

“No, I’m not fucking interested, Matty.”

“Alright don’t take it out on the messenger,” his hands were up, beer in hand, surrendering himself like some village idiot over public urination.

“It’s don’t shoot the messenger you retard,” Nova almost slapped him. “Come on, just don’t say it if you’re going to keep fucking it up.”

“Really not the issue right now Nova,” I snapped at her. “Why would he say that?”

They both paused again. “Well…” Matteo started. Nova set her drink down again to refill. “I mean you did shag her.”

“Six fucking months ago.” I don’t know why it so offended me that Josephine thought I wanted her. It was more that I didn’t like being set up; the feeling of my strings being pulled had always made me want to sever them.

I downed the last of my drink, and glanced toward the glass door. Placing the cup on the table, I marched myself back through it and into the kitchen, where Freddie was talking to some black-haired girl, Lola, or Lottie, or something.

“Freddie? A word?”

He looked at me with an unexpressed sigh. “One sec, I’ll be back,” he murmured to the girl, with a chirpsing smirk. “What is it mate.”

“You told Josephine that I’m into her.”

He laughed. “Yeah. I did you a favour,” he insisted, taking a sip from his beer. “She wants you to fuck her, you know. Again.” Another laugh.

“Well I don’t want to fuck her, Freddie. You shouldn’t have done that.” It was rare that I was stern with him.

“Then don’t.” He shrugged.

“I won’t.” I agreed. This didn’t go the way I wanted it to. I decided to swallow my grievance and let him go.

Josephine arrived about an hour after that, with her friends from Balamore. It was 10 by then, I think; we were all already pissed. Her friends were pretty, all auburn brunette like perfect wax models, and I wanted her not too long ago, but I didn’t want her now. It felt like there was something she wasn’t doing for me anymore, and that feels awful to say but it’s honest. I didn’t really want her there because I thought it’d be awkward between us, but it wasn’t. I said hi when she came outside (we had moved back outside when more people started arriving) and I was smoking with Jacob when she came to get a drink.

“One second,” I gestured with one finger and passed him the cigarette, docking my fingers over his and releasing my grip. I walked over to Josephine. I was drunk. “Long time no see, Josie.” She turned around, I gave a warm but apologetic smile.

“Jude.” She returned. Not as coldly as I had anticipated. She had a clutch bag slung around her shoulder, which she sort of sunk into. She was being defensive. “How have you been?”

“Good, good, yeah.” I scrunched up my lips as if to say “Nothing new to report”. “Just revision and that, I suppose.”

Boring talking point, I thought to myself. But I think that was intentional. Part of me wanted to make her walk away, rather than feel put upon to do it myself.

“Oh yeah,” Her eyebrows furrowed. “It’s all coming quite fast isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged. She looked at the ground, and I looked at the hair on her head, like I would a dog.

“I’m gonna find my friends,” She picked up her glass of boxed wine from the table. “But let’s chat later,” Her eyes found mine, “when I’ve got a few more drinks in me.” She was flirting. She might as well have winked. I didn’t hate it. I never hate attention like that, no matter who it’s from.

“Sure, Josie. In a bit.” I took her place in front of the drinks table as she walked back inside, pouring a half full Jack Daniels into a coke can. A pair of hands slapped onto my shoulders.

“Well that looked like it went shit,” Jacob smirked from behind.

“We’re going to talk later,” I said sternly, “When she’s got more drink in her.” I smirked broadly, bringing the can to cover my lips. Jacob cheered like I had scored a goal.

“Sounds like she wants another go on it!”

I told him to calm down, and shut up. His grip on my shoulders softened, his head perched almost next to mine. I turned slightly to look at him in my peripherals. “Let’s do some ket.”

________________________________________

About an hour later, I was sat on the living room sofa, talking to Michelle, a girl from my English class. Her leg was touching mine, and I wasn’t that into it, but I didn’t mind. I play into things like that in most cases, regardless of whether I actually want to fuck them. I checked my phone as she was talking, about coursework or something, it was coming up to ten-thirty. I put it back down, suddenly feeling the release of my third or fourth line, which I had snorted in the upstairs bathroom with Nova and Jacob five minutes ago. I leant forward to grab my drink – a vodka lemonade now. Some people get so funny about mixing spirits, but it had only ever made the night more fun for me. My phone screen lit up.

Hey, I’m outside

I opened the message. It was an unknown number.

It’s Sammy btw

I sat forward, smiling a little. This will be fun.

I excused myself from Michelle, in the middle of her sentence. Something about a word count. I went to the door, paused, opened it. He quickly spun round to face the door, holding a case of beer in one hand. He raised it, pushed it into my chest, and I took the weight.

“Come in,” I stepped aside. He pressed forwards through the doorway, leading with his right shoulder which tightened under his shirtsleeve. “Decided to show after all, then!” I exclaimed, I was pleasantly surprised. Sammy wasn’t the first random or transfer I had invited out. Just the first to actually show. I could smell his aftershave when he stepped in beside me, like a punch of leather and smoke and bathroom sex. He was wearing a round-neck jumper, the kind that was thin and he had rolled his sleeves to the elbows. And he wore dark blue jeans, I looked to his legs. They looked bigger than mine.

“Fuck, your legs are bigger than mine.” I put my right leg next to his. “Yeah, bigger.” He looked at me blankly, anticipating a punchline. Or a question, or something. I found it. “You play football? Or rugby, surely.”

He shakes his head. “I swim. That and the gym.”

I started walking through to the kitchen, nodding. I sensed he was following behind. “So, you came,” I started while facing away from him, reaching the kitchen island and splitting two plastic cups apart.

“Got nothing better to do, I guess.” I laughed. He was cold. It was charming.

“Well I’m glad you did. I seemed to be having a chat with Matilda when you messaged. Drink?” He nodded yes. A voice from over my shoulder.

“And who’s this mystery guest, Judey?” I cracked open a bottle of Jack Daniels and gave a generous splash in both cups.

“Grab a coke can from that counter will you Sammy?” I glanced to Nova, strutting in like a rogue flamingo. “Nova, Sammy, Sammy, Nova,” I pronounced, without doing the gesturing part. I was curious to see if the guy would mesh, although it probably wouldn’t be hard with Nova, or Jacob, or me in fact at this stage of the night. Ket makes us horny.

He did as I asked and slid me a can, which I pulled open and poured into the right cup first, then the left. I passed him his drink, sipping my own. He nodded to Nova, not sheepishly, but not confidently either. He didn’t commandeer the rooms he stood in, he just sliced into them in such a way that you couldn’t overlook his being there. He was a new person who you could tell was new, and not someone you might’ve seen around. You would’ve noticed. I could tell we could be good friends. It felt like we were suited to each other, I don’t really know how else to explain it. And it wasn’t at all romantic, and if that’s the impression I’ve given then perhaps the intricacies of our friendship have been lost in its writing. It was a fraternal connection, a meeting of men, and part of me felt my market value increase; having a fresh, attractive face next to mine. A wingman of sorts. Hunting works better in packs.

“Sammy,” Nova chewed on the name. “It’s cute. Like a dog.” He smiled genuinely, looking down at the counter.

“Finish your drink, Sammy,” I looked to Nova, had she done another? She looked guilty. Where was my invite? She laughed. “Can you introduce him to the guys out there, I need to piss.” I walked out of the kitchen, patting Sammy on the back as I passed him and headed down the hall. I took a right and reached for the door handle. It didn’t turn.

“One second, Jude,”

I frowned at the locked door. “How’d you know it was me?”

The door swung open, revealing Freddie with wettened fringe curls. “Your whopping great Elephant footsteps mate,” He smirked back at me. I playfully pushed into him,

“Get out, please.” I moved to the toilet and undid my belt.

“Don’t you want anything from the shop?”

“Are you going out? I’d get another case, actually-” I glanced over my shoulder. He was dangling two small baggies, one with white powder and one with yellow. “Oh,” I returned my head to my stream. “That shop.” I zipped up and fastened my belt, moving to the sink. Freddie followed me. He laid the baggies onto the thin shelf in front of the mirror.

“Coke,” he pointed to the white powder, “and MD.” He pointed to the other. A moment of silence. He started to leave.

“What are you on?” I asked.

“The yellow. It’s gonna hit in twenty. Let’s go home in boxes tonight.” With that, he left the bathroom. I looked at the options in front of me.

“Fuck it.” I mumbled. I pulled open the baggy and shook out a small pile of yellow powder. I pulled my wallet from my back pocket and sorted the pile into a line with my debit card. Using a fiver, I catapulted the line through my nose and into my bloodstream, dampened my hair, and went back to the kitchen.

The kitchen was almost full of people now, I checked the time - it was 22:47. I moved through the garden to find Nova. It wasn’t hard, she was talking to Jacob to the right of the garden, Sammy was talking to Matteo. Knowing they were around, I retreated back to the drinks table near the sliding doors at the garden entrance. Another plastic cup, divorced from its pack. Another splash of, what this time, rum? No. Malibu? What the fuck. Vodka? Yeah, okay. A familiar voice approaching, not yet asserting her presence, but waiting to. Then suddenly a warm hand on my waist, curled round from behind. “Josie,” I pried her arm from my core and turned to face her, picking up my drink with the hand closest.

“I’ve got a few more drinks in me,” She announced. I smiled.

“I’ve got to check on a friend. Come with me, I’ll introduce you.” I offered her my free hand. She took it, and we walked into the garden. We walked straight over to my friends, and I let go of Josephine to put an arm around Sammy when we stepped into the circle.

“This is Sammy, he goes to Ackmore, with us.” I push him forwards slightly so they’re closer to one another. I didn’t even mean to do that. Josie extends her hand.

“Pleasure.” Sammy shakes it with his right, slowly. Josephine stares him down like a cautious mother, her hand falling limp in his with the flirtation and sexiness of a doe. I stood side-lined, suddenly almost regretful in rejecting her. Matteo shatters the moment before it becomes awkward.

“I was just asking Sammy here about his long and established friendship with you, Jude.” I looked to them both, with nothing to say. I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. I tried again.

“Let’s just say he’s on probation, okay?” My eyes scanned both boys. Neither seemed to object. I sipped my drink, noticing Sammy’s was now empty. “Another?”

“Please,” he grabbed his cup and followed me back inside.

“So, what do you think?” I stopped round the other end of the island and selected a foggy bottle of Grey Goose. He said he liked Matteo, that he was funny. I laughed. He can be. I poured a shot in each, slid him his glass. “It’s harder to get to know someone sober,” I said transparently. My cup raised in the air, I threw the contents down my throat like it was burning hot. Sammy did the same, and slid me his cup back. I poured in another shot and topped it up with lemonade.

“Josephine seems cool.” He stated, between sips. I screwed the lid back on the bottle and squinted at him, understanding something, I guess.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s from another college round here. Balamore Manor.” I over-enunciated the name to take the piss, passed him the cup and he swigged it.

“Is it as posh as Ackmore?”

“Unfortunately. It’s private too,” I elaborated, and Sammy just looked straight into his cup while he drank from it. Like he was reading tea markings. “You alright?”

His eyes found mine reflexively. Pools of blackness which were obviously a dark brown, but felt such an opaque and blockading / IMPENETRABLE defence that I couldn’t help but assume in that moment they were any tone but deep, deep, black.

“I’m good.” He didn’t seem sure but I didn’t want to press; I’d known the guy for all of seven hours. Instead of rebutting, I let the bottle-top in my hand clatter against the marble counter, and protrude awkwardly into the silence like a bell at the end of class. A moment of stillness.

“Why does she seem cool?” I took a sip from my drink.

Sammy thought about it, as far as I could tell. He put a hand on the counter and looked up, like the answer had been scrawled in marker, backward, on the ceiling. “She’s got nice teeth. Hair, too. Never been attracted to a ginger girl before.”

“Well that’s a glowing review,” I joked, as if I had anything nicer to say about Josephine. “But you like her?” I over-stepped.

“I don’t know man, I just met her.” He sipped his drink awkwardly. I smiled at the ground. Sometimes I remember people have mothers and fathers who are hoping their kids are doing okay. This was one of those times. I decided to go easy on him.

“Are you a virgin?” I looked into his eyes like I was his boss, or his father. Like I was an overbearing mother

demanding his honesty through blood and command alone.

“No,” he stared right back. It wasn’t snappy – he left a beat. It didn’t sound as defensive as it reads.

I licked my lips subtly, because they were dry. “Well she’s fair game, y’know, for your information.” I suddenly felt overextended – unclothed and on a tightrope. My cheeks reddened slightly. I looked to the drinks to be busy.

Sammy scoffed, “Thanks, cupid.” He popped a nut in his mouth from a bowl on the table and crunched down on it. I poured in a final shot for myself, then two. Walking past Sammy then retreating, slapping a hand onto his surprisingly hard shoulder, I said “Friends do these things for each other,” handed him his shot, and shotted it. I then staggered outside, and the MD began to kick in.

At first I had thought the sun was back in the sky. I looked up, it was dark again. It made me jump almost, I gasped at least, everything felt bright. I shook myself straight. I had stepped onto the grass, and I could hear Freddie snivelling at me from somewhere, but all I could focus on was the growing buzzing sensation in my leg, moving up into my crotch. It made me weak in the knees. I was moving through the garden now, and was back in the circle as abruptly as the day had turned night. I stood between Nova and Josephine, sliding in as smoothly as I could while ignoring my surging heartbeat.

They were talking about first kisses. I looked to Nova, she looked to me. Everyone laughed.

“It was fun,”

“Yeah, it was good,” It was like we were assuring them. I could see her turn to face me fully in my left peripherals, so I glanced to see her face suddenly close to mine.

“I would do it again, you know,” Nova grinned widely and I looked to each of my friends.

“Oh, you deceitful diva you,” I started on her, with the Yorkshire “you” from my dad’s side. Jacob pounced across the circle to jump her. She laughed, and I leant back into my hind leg to relax. I truly couldn’t tell if she was seriously going to kiss me or not. I looked to my right and put an arm around Josephine, in the way that guys do with girls at parties. I was suddenly feeling friendly. She looked up at me, it was strange. She looked like a moth in a flytrap. She had a casual smirk worn on her face, or it was more drawn on, with lipliner. She was heartbroken, or bored, or something. I could see it in her eyes. I dropped my arm back to my side, the group’s attention recentralised.

“So, what do we think of my Sammy then,” I asked in the round. Before any clever or snide remark could be made, I snapped “Nova first. Go round.” Nova opened her mouth to speak. I stopped her again, “One word. Only.” I smirked.

Nova smiled for a moment, then almost moaned: “Slutty”. She playfully pushed Jacob next to her to get him to laugh.

“Must you always take the piss, Nova?” I asked. It was a genuine question.

“Sorry, Dad” she retorted. The boys chuckled from behind. “But it’s true. That’s a slutty jumper. Tiny little waist and all.”

“Ew, Nova.” Matteo frowned and brought his cup to his lips.

“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t call it out if it was Maddie. Or Sophia.” She stared him down.

“Speaking of, where the hell are they?” Jacob had asked.

“Went to the shops.” Nova replied.

“Jacob?” I waited. He looked at me blankly. “One word.” I reiterated.

He thought about it. “Lowercase.”

That puzzled me. “What d’you mean?” Jacob shrugged, before reaching for the recently lit cigarette in Nova’s hand.

I never really thought about that. Lowercase. Maybe he had meant understated, low-key. Soft-spoken, or humble. Or it was a peculiarity, a criticism, a joke. All that’s known is that I put more thought into the word than its utterer ever did. Southern, put forward by Matteo. But it was light-hearted. None of my friends liked to be sentimental, even if our feelings were soft. Then Sammy was back besides me, drink in hand. I looked around the garden, there were four or five groups of people, including us. People meandered in-between – it was busy. I lost track of the time from this point on.

Nova gasped, and ran from the circle back to the house. I sipped my drink, we began to talk about something else, until Nova returned, with a drunken Maddie on her left and a dazed and confused Sophia on her right.

“The hell happened to you lasses?” Jacob said from beside me now; I had taken Nova’s place so Josephine was now opposite me. The quiet crackling of the cigarette resumed after he spoke.

Maddie was suddenly present. “Bought some vodka.”

“It’s gone now,” Sophia looked at Maddie. They laughed. She turned to Nova. “Can we play spin the bottle?” A child begging for a story before bed. I smiled and looked at Sammy, who in turn was staring right at Sophia as she spoke. I remember thinking that he must be a good listener. He reminded me of me. I focused back on the conversation. Nova was looking right at me, expectantly.

“What?” I asked between sips, as if my ears had pricked at the sound of my name.

“Shall we play?”

“I kind of want to go inside anyway,” Jacob chimed in.

“Sure,” I decreed, but wasn’t sure why it was up to me. I suppose I was second in-command at Freddie’s, as closest. “Wait, ask Freddie,” I paused. Then remembered the Josephine shit. “Actually, don’t. Someone grab a bottle - let’s go upstairs.” The circle disbanded. It was almost seven minutes until we reassembled in the upstairs lounge. I rushed inside to piss, but I was caught on the way by a girl I sat next to in Maths. I made my excuses and slipped into the ground floor bathroom. Sammy was in front of me, stood facing the toilet, the tinny resonance of a muted piss on the bank of the basin. I smiled. Lowercase. His head glanced at me, then turned back.

“Close the door, surely?”

I pushed the door closed. A big wave of ecstasy brought shivers over my body. He noticed. The psshh of a toilet flush; he went to the sink to wash his hands.

“You alright?” He asked, without looking up.

“Yeah, just trying to…” I looked down and transferred the weight of my body between the balls of my feet, “…balance.” I turned away from the door and stepped further into the room. He asked what I had taken so I told him, he laughed which made me laugh. I drifted to the toilet and unbuckled my belt. My stream was less graceful. He watched my painting from behind, maybe in awe. Or humour. I couldn’t tell at the time.

Was I just comic relief to you?

________________________________________

He had moved to dry his hands near the door, but now returned to the sink, where I was also stood, lathering my hands with soap and cold water. I was feeling great. Sammy reached for the hot tap and turned it, bathing my hands in the heat.

“Might help.” He added, his hand still rested on the faucet. His shoe was touching mine. I only noticed it because I was horny out of my mind and really fucking high, so every brush against a stranger or a friend felt like a microscopic orgasm. But his foot had crept ever so slightly onto mine, so that his furthest toe was practically on-top of my own. I remember circulating my hands in that sink feeling like I would kiss him right now if he kissed me. I would’ve kissed anyone right then to be fair. But I was increasingly alarmed at the prospect and my pulse knew it. I took a breath.

“You got any left?” Sammy asked in a low, grovelly tone. I turned only my head, so as not to disturb whatever-the-fuck was happening with our feet, and reached into my back pocket. I grinned widely, with light in my eyes.

“You want some?”

He smiled back at me. “Yeah, alright,” he conceded, and I grabbed his head and pressed our foreheads together. He was more like me than I had realised. I poured out the powder onto a dry section of the sink rim and handed him the tenner. I was about to use my card to carve out a line but Sammy snorted it while I patted down my pockets. He groaned from the pain and I laughed, quietly, genuinely. He was bent forward slightly, his head down to face the basin, wincing and forcing it upwards. I put a hand on his almost flat back. Swimmer’s back. My middle finger rested slightly lower in the small crevasse down the spine. You had such a detailed body. I firmed up my hand and patted the back of his sweater until he stopped coughing.

“You’re alright,” I told him. He suddenly stood upright, and his foot retreated from mine to merely rest beside it. I pulled back from the sink and returned to the door, tucking the baggy into my back pocket. Better to be the leaver than to be left.

“See you upstairs?”

“See you upstairs.”