Page 59 of The Art of Drowning

Ginny called to check in with me and the only reason I answered was because I knew they’d show up on my door if I didn’t, and I wasn’t ready for people to see me. She wasn’t convinced that I was as okay as I said I was, but she didn’t press the matter either.

What I loved the most about her was that she never made me talk about shit that I didn’t want to talk about. She called and asked if I was okay, and if I needed anything, and when I said yes, I was and no, I didn’t, she let it go.

Yesterday I’d listened to her talk for more than an hour about some new show she was hooked on, and then again last night she’d talked about some kind of internet drama she’d been keeping tabs on. I appreciated the conversation, even if I didn’t participate much. It helped me feel connected to something other than my grief. Though I wasn’t sure what exactly I was mourning.

Was it Sam? Or was it the life I could have had? Was I still grieving the loss of Damien, even though we’d found each other again?

His calls had gone unanswered. So had his texts.

Maybe that made me a jerk, but I couldn’t make myself care about it too much. If I let something in, I’d have to let it all in, and the weight of my feelings might kill me. Dramatic? I wasn’t so sure.

I still couldn’t fathom having to get up one morning, get dressed, and go to work like everything was fine. But I couldn’t just stay home and rot in bed the way I had been doing.

It was a good thing Damien had shown up days ago and not now, when I hadn’t showered in days and was still sleeping on the same sheets because I told myself they smelled like him.

They didn’t. But a guy could dream.

I rolled over, something I did every so often, and unplugged my phone. Ginny would be calling again soon, the second check-in of the day. Zeke tried to check in, but he was shit on the phone. He’d get as far as asking if I was okay, and then he’d sit there in silence. But he did send me at least a dozen supposedly funny memes a day. So that counted. He did his best, but Ginny was the communicator. Zeke was just the pretty face—Zeke’s words.

Right on cue, my phone rang and I answered it. Despite my best effort to sound lively, I still sounded like a perpetually exhausted robot.

“Ginny. Good evening.” The fact that she’d already called me once today was the only reason I knew what time of day it was.

“Are you still in bed, Callum Weeks?” Her previously patient voice had a no-nonsense tone to it. “I know I can’t bully the depression out of your body, but you could at least spend some time on your feet.”

“Standing is overrated.”

“And showering?”

My silence spoke volumes.

“Cal,” she said softly, clearly trying a different approach with me. “Listen to me very carefully. Are you listening?”

“I’m listening.”

“Get out of bed. Pull the sheets off. Get in the shower. Eat a real meal.”

“Because that will magically make everything better?”

Ginny scoffed. “Fuck no. But you’ll have a clean body, a clean bed, and a full belly, and that’s better than being stinky, sad, and hungry.”

“I hate you,” I told her, though there was no force behind the words. No truth. It was like I was playing Opposite Day where I hate you meant I love you and fuck you was my way of saying thank you.

“Get up.” Ginny’s voice was gentle but serious. “Seriously, Callum. Zeke and I can come out there and stay for a few days if you need us to.”

“Ginny, I love you, but please don’t. I’m getting up. I’m pulling the sheet off my bed as we speak.”

“Liar.”

“Okay, but how about I promise that by the next check-in that I’ll have completed the mission?”

“Can I trust you?”

“Probably not, to be honest.” I laughed unexpectedly and when it went on for too long, I realized that Ginny wasn’t laughing with me. Or at all. I forced myself to stop. Had I sounded like I was losing my shit? Maybe I was.

“Callum…”

Suddenly, I threw the blankets off and climbed out of bed. “I’m up. I’m up and out of bed.” I yanked the blanket off the bed and let it pool on the floor. Next, I stripped the fitted sheet, not bothering to separate the pillows or the top sheet. I bundled everything up and dragged it to the washer and dryer.