Page 21 of The Art of Drowning

“You look good, all things considered.” I took another drink from his glass and handed it back. Callum took the glass from me and turned it so his mouth would be where mine had just been.

“All things considered, so do you.” He shot my words back to me and downed the rest of his drink and my stupid heart galloped away from me.

ELEVEN

callum

NOW

Things had never been the same between Sam and me. Not that they’d been great to begin with. As kids, Sam and I were close, and I’d like to say that over the years we drifted apart. But it wasn’t like that.

We’d fractured long before his discovery of Damien and me shattered us completely. I never understood why. I still didn’t. Maybe I wasn’t meant to. Maybe the inner workings of Sam’s brain were meant to be a mystery to me.

It was clear now that I’d never known my brother at all. And I never would. That thought should make me sad, but all it did was piss me off. Sam should be here so I could yell at him. Shake him. Find out why he lied. Why he was so fucking selfish.

But if Sam were here, Damien wouldn’t be sitting across from me. Seeing him in that church had stolen my breath. I’d tried not to think about it, but the idea had formed in the back of my mind anyway. It made me feel like a shitty brother, wondering if Damien would show up to the funeral. I’d chastised myself for the thought as soon as it entered my mind.

But I’d still thought it.

What if? What if Damien came to the funeral? What if I got to see him again? I didn’t know how to answer those questions when they first came to me, and even though the what-ifs had occurred, I still didn’t know what to do.

Damien sat across from me, and the hum of alcohol buzzed through my bloodstream. I wasn’t drunk, but I’d get there fast if I kept going at the pace I’d set.

“Do you know what Sam could possibly have left me in his will?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea. I haven’t lived here since high school. I barely come home. I just… this is Sam’s town.”

“You don’t come home?”

“For the holidays. Other than that, I stay away. Sam didn’t force my hand, but he didn’t exactly make coming around comfortable. Besides,” I continued, pushing the bottle of whiskey away from me and out of reach. Drinking felt like a dangerous thing all of the sudden because Damien was right there. In arm’s reach. In touching distance. Kissing distance. “This isn’t my home. Not anymore.”

“Where’s home?”

“After college, I moved to Fort Frances for a job and I just never left. I have a job I can live with, friends I love. I’ve carved out an okay life for myself.” A life with boyfriends who never fit quite right. Too loud. Too quiet. Too judgy. Too insecure. Not funny enough. Not nice enough. Not like Damien. Too much like Damien.

“What about you? Sam said you lived in Princeton.”

Damien looked at me kind of funny.

“What?” I prodded.

“I’ve never lived there.” Damien paused and we both realized that Sam had told more than one lie over the years. “I—you live, we live just a couple hours from each other. Give or take. But I’m in Stone Creek. I went there after college. I have a business now.”

A couple hours. After all these years, a matter of hours had been all that was between us.

“That’s so close.” The room suddenly didn’t have any oxygen in it.

“I’m surprised we never matched on an app.”

“Well, see, that’s because I dumped the apps a long time ago. Mostly I meet guys down at the bar or through friends.”

Damien looked at me like he was crushed by disappointment. “Ah, the old-fashioned way. So… is there a boyfriend back home?”

I should say yes. Single Callum was stupid and made bad decisions when it came to men. Relationship Callum was loyal and smart and kind. Single Callum was a bit of a slut, and he desperately missed the way it felt when Damien touched him.

“No.” I stopped myself from asking about him and his relationship status, but he offered it up anyway.

“There’s no one waiting for me back home either. Well, my best friend, Bowie, and my pet rock, Spike.”