VOICEOVER
There are two kinds of hangovers. The first is physical; your head pounds, your stomach churns, and you swear to God you'll never drink again. You always drink again. The second is spiritual; you wake up and remember what you did, who you did it to, and who you did it in front of. That one doesn't go away with water and aspirin. That one lives in your chest like a splinter. Most of the people at MU woke up with the first kind. A few woke up with the second. And one or two woke up with both, which is just God's way of saying "you should have stayed home."
AARON'S DORM – 7:32 AM
The fan was broken.
Aaron lay on his back, staring at the water stain on the ceiling. The room was hot, sticky, smelled like stale alcohol and Charlie's unwashed socks. Someone had thrown up in the trash can last night; no one had emptied it.
Vicky was curled against his side, her head on his chest, her leg thrown over his. Her red dress was bunched around her waist; her hair was a wild mess of tangles and dried sweat. She was still half asleep, mumbling something he couldn't understand.
His phone was on the pillow. He hadn't looked at it since last night. He was afraid of what he might find.
"Baby," Vicky mumbled. "You awake?"
"Yeah."
"You didn't sleep."
"I slept a little."
"You're lying."
He didn't answer.
She lifted her head, blinked at him. Her eyes were puffy, her lip still swollen from where Zuru had hit her. She looked wrecked. She looked beautiful.
"You're thinking about something," she said. "You always get quiet when you're thinking."
"I'm a medical student. I'm always thinking."
"Fuck your medical student bullshit." She sat up, pulled the sheet around her chest. "You've been distant for weeks. Last night you disappeared for an hour. Where the fuck did you go?"
"I went for a walk."
"A walk? At midnight? During a party?"
"I needed air."
Vicky stared at him. Her jaw was tight. "You know what I think? I think you're hiding something. And I think it's going to fucking destroy us."
Aaron sat up. The room spun for a second; he hadn't slept, hadn't eaten, hadn't done anything but lie here and listen to his own heart crack.
"Vicky, I have exams. I have practicals. I have a fucking anatomy test on Monday that I'm going to fail because I've been too busy breaking up fights and holding Charlie's hand and watching Oliver self-destruct. I don't have time for a secret."
"Then why are you acting like you do?"
"Because I'm tired."
"So am I." Her voice cracked. "I'm tired of competing with your books. I'm tired of watching Zuru throw herself at you. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not enough."
"You're enough."
"Then fucking act like it."
She grabbed her dress from the floor, pulled it over her head. The zipper got stuck; she yanked it, cursed, yanked it again. Aaron stood up, walked over, zipped it for her.
She didn't thank him.
"I'm going back to my dorm," she said. "Text me when you remember how to be a boyfriend."
She left. The door slammed. The room was suddenly too quiet.
Charlie's snore rumbled from the top bunk.
Aaron looked at his phone.
Ese (11:47 PM): Now. Behind the humanities building. You need to see this.
Ese (12:02 AM): Where are you?
Ese (12:15 AM): Fine. Don't come. But you'll regret it.
He deleted the messages. Then he put his head in his hands and sat there until the sun came through the blinds like a searchlight.
THE CAFETERIA – 12:30 PM
The lunch crowd was thinner than usual; hangovers had kept half the campus in bed. The smell of fried plantains and cheap rice hung in the air like a threat.
Aaron sat alone at the corner table. He hadn't eaten. His tea was cold. He was watching the door.
Wesley slid into the seat across from him.
"Where is everyone?" Aaron asked.
"Charlie is in the clinic. Something about his hand. Oliver is MIA. Nelly is... I don't know. Being Nelly." Wesley picked up a fry from Aaron's tray and ate it. "You look like shit."
"Thanks."
"You and Vicky fight?"
"Something like that."
Wesley nodded. He didn't push. That was the thing about Wesley; he could sit in silence for hours, comfortable as a cat in a sunbeam. It irritated some people. Aaron found it peaceful.
"You ever feel like you're watching your own life from the outside?" Aaron asked.
"Every fucking day."
"How do you deal with it?"
Wesley shrugged. "I don't. I just keep moving. Eventually the feeling gets tired and leaves you alone."
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
"It's also the truest." Wesley stood up. "Peculiar is coming this weekend. My sister. She wants to meet everyone. Try not to be a sad bastard when she's around."
"No promises."
Wesley walked away. Aaron watched him go; the way people parted for him, not because he was tall or loud, but because he had this quiet energy that made you want to get out of his way. A soft bad boy. A paradox in sneakers.
How does he do it? Aaron thought. How does he stay so calm when everything is on fire?
His phone buzzed.
Vicky (12:34 PM): I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. Can we talk?
He didn't reply.
He was tired of being the one who fixed things.
OLIVER'S LOCKER – 1:15 PM
The hallway was empty. Most students were in class or in bed.
Aaron found Oliver standing in front of his locker, staring at the combination lock like he'd forgotten how numbers worked. His shirt was wrinkled. His eyes were red. He looked smaller than usual; like someone had let the air out of him.
"Oliver."
Oliver didn't turn around. "Not now, Aaron."
"We need to talk."
"I said not now."
Aaron stepped closer. Lowered his voice. "I know about you and Zizi."
Oliver's hand stopped moving. The lock clicked open, but he didn't open the door. He just stood there, frozen.
"Who told you?"
"Ese."
"Ese? Vicky's friend? The quiet one?" Oliver turned around. His face was pale, but his eyes were hard. "What the fuck does she know?"
"She's been watching you. For weeks. She told me last night behind the science block. She said more people might find out."
Oliver's jaw tightened. "More people like who?"
"I don't know. But you need to get ahead of this. Tell Nelly before someone else does."
Oliver laughed; a short, sharp sound with no humor in it. "Tell Nelly? Nelly already knows."
"What?"
His phone buzzed. Oliver pulled it out, stared at the screen. His face went through three emotions in two seconds; shock, rage, then something that looked like relief.
"What is it?"
Oliver held up the phone.
Nelly (1:17 AM): I know everything.
Aaron's stomach dropped. "Shit."
"Yeah." Oliver's voice was flat. "Shit."
Then his face crumpled. Not crying; something worse. Something that looked like a dam breaking.
"Everyone get the fuck out!" Oliver screamed. His voice echoed down the empty hallway. "Get the fuck out! Now!"
Aaron didn't move. "Oliver—"
"I said OUT!"
Aaron stepped back. Oliver turned to his locker, spun the combination, yanked the door open. Inside, hidden behind a stack of textbooks, was a small black pouch. Oliver's hands were shaking as he unzipped it.
Aaron watched him pull out a small bag of white powder. Watched him tap some onto the back of his hand. Watched him sniff it in one quick motion, like he'd done it a thousand times.
Oliver leaned his forehead against the cold metal of the locker. His shoulders rose and fell. His breathing slowed.
Aaron didn't say anything. He just stood there, watching his friend disappear in real time.
He's a druggie, Aaron thought. He's always been a druggie. I just never wanted to see it.
He turned and walked away.
NELLY'S DORM – 3:00 PM
The room was small, shared with three other girls who were all in class. Kelly, Nelly's older sister, sat on the bottom bunk, scrolling through her phone. She was taller than Nelly, sharper, with the kind of face that said "I've seen your bullshit and I'm not impressed."
Nelly was pacing.
"You're going to wear a hole in the floor," Kelly said.
"I don't know what to do."
"Leave him. It's simple."
"It's not simple."
"It's actually very simple. He cheated on you. With your friend. You have proof. You leave."
Nelly stopped pacing. She looked at her sister with wet eyes. "I love him."
"He doesn't love you."
"You don't know that."
"I know that he fucked someone else. That's not love. That's not even like."
Nelly sat down on the bed, hard. "You don't understand."
"You're right. I don't. Because I would never let a man treat me like that and then come back for more." Kelly put down her phone. "But you're not me. You're you. And you're going to do what you always do. You're going to forgive him. You're going to cry. You're going to let him hold you. And then next month, he's going to do it again. And you're going to forgive him again. And again. And again. Until there's nothing left of you to forgive."
Nelly was crying now. "Why are you so mean to me?"
"Because someone has to be." Kelly stood up, pulled her sister into a hug. "I love you. That's why I'm mean. Now go. Go see him. Get it out of your system. But don't expect me to pretend he's good for you."
Nelly wiped her eyes. She grabbed her keys. She walked out the door.
Kelly sat back down on the bed.
She didn't look up from her phone.
CHARLIE AND AARON – THE CLINIC, 5:00 PM
Charlie's hand was wrapped in a white bandage. He'd punched a wall. Or a mirror. Or a face. He couldn't remember.
Aaron sat in the plastic chair beside his bed, listening.
"My dad used to hit me," Charlie said. "Not all the time. Just when he was drunk. Which was most of the time. My mom knew. She didn't do anything."
Aaron nodded.
"I thought if I got big enough, strong enough, no one would ever hit me again. But the hitting never stopped. It just moved inside my head." Charlie tapped his temple. "In here. Every day. All the time."
"That sounds hard."
"It is hard. You're the only one I've told."
Aaron put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "I'm glad you told me."
Charlie looked at him. His eyes were wet. "You're a good friend, Aaron. The best."
Aaron smiled. It was a warm smile. It was also a lie.
He was thinking about Oliver's locker. About the white powder. About Vicky's text. About Ese's words.
He was thinking about how much he needed everyone to need him.
And how much he hated himself for it.
VICKY AND AARON – THE DORM, 9:00 PM
She showed up at his door. No text. No warning. Just her, in his hoodie, her face bare, her eyes red.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"You already said that."
"I'm saying it again."
She stepped inside. The door closed behind her. The room was dark except for the light from his phone.
"I'm scared, Aaron." Her voice was small. "I'm scared you're going to leave me. I'm scared I'm not enough. I'm scared you're going to wake up one day and realize you can do better."
He pulled her close. She buried her face in his chest.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said.
"Promise?"
"I promise."
She kissed him. He kissed her back. They ended up on his bed, clothes on the floor, bodies tangled. It was desperate, hungry, the kind of sex that happens when two people are trying to fill a hole that can't be filled.
Afterward, she lay with her head on his chest.
"I want you to fuck me like that every day," she whispered.
"I have exams."
"Fuck your exams."
"Vicky."
"I'm serious. I don't care about your exams. I don't care about your grades. I care about you. Only you."
He stared at the ceiling.
She doesn't care about my stress, he thought. She just wants me. All of me. Even the parts I don't have to give.
He didn't know if that was love or possession.
He was too tired to figure it out.
VOICEOVER
That night, while Aaron held Vicky in his arms, Oliver sat alone in his room, staring at the wall. Nelly had come and gone. She'd cried. He'd apologized. She'd forgiven him. Same as always. Same as every time. He knew she would never leave. That was the problem. That was always the problem. When someone loves you that much, you stop being grateful. You start being bored. And when you're bored, you do stupid things. Like fuck your girlfriend's friend. Like snort lines in a locker room. Like walk out into the rain and never come back. But that was later. That was later.