Page 14 of The Art of Drowning

If I didn’t, she’d come back and haul me over to her booth by my ear, so I did what I was told. Honestly, it was nice to not have to think about what I was doing or where I was going. I was following Ginny. I was going to sit at her table and drink with her and tomorrow… tomorrow would come no matter what. Like it always did.

I slid into the seat across from her, my back to the door and the rest of the bar. It felt nice, kind of like it was just the two of us.

She poured a couple of fingers into each glass then raised hers. “To Sam, may his final journey be peaceful.”

I raised my glass, but Ginny continued, “And to those he left behind, may they find peace as well.”

My hand trembled as our glasses clinked together. The whiskey burned going down, but I relished the feeling. It was a sign that despite how numb I’d been for days now, there was still something in me that could feel things. Even if those things were anger and the satisfying burn of alcohol.

The door opened and the November wind howled into the bar, making my head turn. And then I knew for sure I could feel because Damien had just walked into Ginny’s and my heart started to beat again. The world spun to a stop as I watched Damien’s gaze drift around the room, noting where the bathrooms were, and the pool tables and the bar, and then farther to the right over to where I was sitting.

They say lightning never strikes the same place twice, but every time our eyes met, that’s what I felt. A jolt of electricity so powerful that it stole my breath. I gaped at him, watching him walk across the bar until he came up to the table.

“We should talk,” he said.

Even all these years later, I still fucking hated those three words.

EIGHT

damien

THEN

THEN

DAMIEN

“You’re being weird.”

Sam’s accusation slapped me across the face. And if he noticed the way I flinched at his words, he didn’t care.

“Excuse me?” I said, hoping that maybe I’d heard him wrong. We were hanging out in his room. Summer was almost over. Another school year was barreling toward us at full speed. Sam’s job would end in a couple weeks when school started and this year I hated the approaching school year for a different reason.

Callum Weeks.

In some ways, it would be good to put some distance between us. Cal and I had grown closer these past weeks as Sam mowed lawns and Cal taught me how to swim. I still wasn’t very good, but at least now I could swim enough to not drown in someone’s swimming pool.

But Sam was right. I had been acting weird. It was hard to not, when even thinking of Cal made my dick twitch. The stupid thing had decided that it liked Callum. That thinking of Callum would make it respond the same way it did when I thought about that time I got to second base with Jennifer Cortez. It might have been Olivia’s hand down my pants at the last party Sam dragged me to, but it was Callum my stupid brain was thinking about.

But I thought I’d hid my turmoil pretty well. I thought I smiled at the right time and laughed at the right things. I didn’t give Cal any special attention when Sam was around. When Sam was here, we pretended the other one didn’t exist. Like we’d always done. I’d always been Sam’s friend first and foremost. I knew Callum by proxy.

Sam spun in his computer chair, his backward hat sitting slightly crooked on his head. My fingers itched to reach out and adjust it, but I left it alone.

“How am I being weird?” I asked, rolling over so I could sit up. I’d been lounging on Sam’s bed and we were talking while every so often Sam stopped to text people. He had always been the more social one out of the two of us. Nearly everywhere we went, it was Sam’s idea. I didn’t mind going along for the ride. We’d always had a lot of fun together.

“I don’t know.” Sam squinted at me. “But you are.”

There was no way he could tell I’d somehow discovered that I was suddenly attracted to guys. Well, one guy in particular. Sam had bragged before about how intuitive he was, but that was just Sam wanting to be the most important person in the room. Sometimes, I thought that was why he dragged Callum so often. Because he was in some sort of one-sided competition with Cal, who honestly couldn’t care less about being better than anyone.

“I’m not being weird. You’re being weird for thinking I’m being weird.”

“I don’t know. There’s something off about you,” he insisted.

The way Sam looked at me made me uncomfortable. I never did like being scrutinized. I blamed my parents, who seldom noticed me, even when we were in the same room. It was easier for me to live in the shadows, Sam’s shadow in particular. When we walked into a room together, everyone’s attention was on Sam and I liked it that way. And so did Sam.

“The only thing off about me is my choice in company. I should go home where I’m also not wanted, but at least they don’t call me weird.” I went to stand up and Sam lunged, tackling me and dragging me back down to the bed with him.

“Don’t go. I was just fucking with you.”