[Image Caption: Nick standing in the dorm hallways.]

Samir’s missing from Statistics on Friday, which is weird because I saw him out and about Wednesday and he seemed fine. It’s not like him to skip classes and he’s already been missing all week. I still can’t believe he reached out to me about last weekend. He never talks to me and all of a sudden this is what I get? A text message from a number I don’t even recognize saying he got so fucked up drunk that he needs help retracing his steps? Seemed oddly forward of him. Even Corinne says she doesn’t know much about him. Her, Sawyer and Samir are like peas in a pod, yet he keeps everything inside. He’s like Koda in that way.

I don’t know why Samir cares what happened. I’ve blacked out a few times and never did anything too dumb. That part always comes in the morning when you start hurling everywhere. I wonder if I should check on him or if that would piss him off. We’re not close, so I might be overstepping…especially since he’s such an asshole. Corinne says he’s just like that, though.

When class finally comes to an end, I decide to cut my losses and text Samir. Once I hit send, I pack up my books. 

“Whatcha doing?” Koda asks, briefly glancing over my shoulder as he stands up from his desk.

“And you’re always calling me nosey,” I laugh, but Koda rolls his eyes and doesn’t try to look again, so I just tell him. “Asking Samir where he was today.”

“Since when are you two friends?” 

“He had a bad night last weekend and doesn’t remember anything. He came to me the other day asking if I saw him around. Couldn’t tell him much.”

“What a dumbass. He shouldn’t have drank so much.”

I want to scoff, but I don’t. Instead, I simply remind him, “You’re one to talk.”

“Whatever. It’s not like I blacked out.”

“Yeah, but shit happens. He clearly didn’t intend to get that fucked.”

Koda doesn’t respond. I can tell he doesn’t really give a rat’s ass, so we leave the classroom and head to the dining hall. Koda waits outside while I swipe in and grab a couple slices of pizza. He doesn’t have a meal plan and they always check at the door, so we eat in my room on days we have the same breaks. When we get back to the dorms, my room is empty. Koda and I sit on the floor, and he pulls out a sandwich and a spotless banana. Ugh, I should’ve grabbed some fruit. The pizza’s good but what he’s eating looks better. Not gonna lie, I’m a little jealous of his homemade lunches.

“So, you worried about Samir or something?” Koda asks.

“Well, I don’t know. It’s just strange for him to miss class, right?”

“Who cares? You’re not his friend. He’s not yours.”

“But he’s Corinne’s. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

“You’re too nice.”

“Well, you’re not nice enough.”

He gives me an annoyed look but doesn’t say anything else. He’s pretty quiet today. Kind of moody, too. I’d ask him what’s wrong, but he wouldn’t give me much of an answer. 

“So, what’s new?” I pry and, as always, he shakes his head and insists nothing. Then for some reason Gabe springs to mind and I decide to tell Koda what I did with him. Maybe that will get a rise out of him. “I hooked up with a dude a little while ago. Got a blowjob.” 

“What the fuck? From who?”

“Some guy I had never met before. His name was Gabe.”

“Gabe with the red hair? When the hell did that happen?”

“Two weeks ago while you were throwing up in the dorm bathroom,” I say sheepishly.

“Ugh dude, are you kidding me? Did I interrupt?”

“Not really. I was pretty fucked up and we already finished before Tyler told me to find you.”

“I’m really sorry about that by the way,” Koda says, fiddling with the sticker on his banana. “So, are you gay now or whatever?”

“I don’t know what I am.”

“It’d be funny if you ended up being gay... ‘cause Samantha is a lesbian,” he says with a slight smile. I wrinkle my nose at the thought, but maybe that’s part of the reason I was so willing to experiment—whether it was out of pettiness or curiosity.

“He told me where his room is. Said I could come by if I wanted to screw around some more.”

“Well, are you gonna?”

“Maybe. I’ve been thinking about it.”

Koda gives a long and slow nod, processing it all. At least he isn’t creeped out. Honestly, sometimes he acts homophobic, so I wasn’t really sure. “Well…” he finally responds, “I guess it’s nice that you have some sort of outlet. You’re not gonna get all attached to Gabe, are you? He’s not the friendliest. Plus, men are fucked up.”

What a weird comment, but I suppose he’s just worried. “Aw, are you jealous?” I joke in an attempt to lighten the mood. I’m not scared of Gabe nor am I particularly invested.

Koda looks irate but doesn’t add anything else. 

I check my phone to see if Samir responded, though I doubt it. I click on his name and see that he read my message but didn’t reply. How rude, but not exactly surprising coming from him. “Samir ignored me,” I murmur.

“What a shock. Did you actually think he’d respond? Just forget about it. He’s not your problem.”

It bums me out, but there’s no point in worrying about it if Samir’s going to blatantly blow me off. It’s pretty brutal that he leaves his read receipts on.

“I have class,” Koda tells me suddenly and I glance over at the clock.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll walk you there.”

“How romantic,” he teases, but I accompany him nonetheless.

I really hope he decides to live with me next year. It would be good for him. I’m not trying to act like I know what’s best, but I think he needs some breathing room. If Koda doesn’t catch a break he’ll never learn how to be independent. His parents do everything for him—cooking, cleaning... whatever else there is.

“Catch yah later,” I say once we reach the door to his classroom.

“What? No kiss goodbye?” 

I jokingly push him against the wall and make a move like I’m about to lean in, but he pushes me away and we both laugh. When I get back to my room, I head to my dresser. I always keep things tucked away in the same place—my sock drawer—so it only takes me a second to find what I’m looking for. I pull out the small bottle of pills only to see that there aren’t many left. The pharmacy won’t allow for an early refill, which means I’ll need to go elsewhere.

My dealer is a guy named Zack. He’s a jackass. I don’t care, though. There’s only one thing I want from him and it’s definitely not a social call. I lie down on my bed, soaking up the feeling for a while before deciding to text him. He gives me a time and place to meet, and I decide to head to the common room until then. I spot Gabe sitting in his usual spot by himself with a math textbook. He’s wearing plaid pajama pants and an oversized sweater, looking like he just rolled out of bed because his red hair is sticking out all over the place. 

I debate on pretending not to notice him, but I don’t because it feels wrong. Instead I hold up a hand, greeting him as I walk over. “How’s it going? Haven’t seen you in a bit.”

He looks up from his book. “Why would you have? You didn’t come by.” 

I wonder if that was a jab or just a statement. Either way, it comes off strong.

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” I laugh awkwardly. “I’ve been busy.”

“It’s fine if you didn’t want to. You were under no obligation.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking it over, but I have a lot on my mind.”

He keeps staring at me, saying nothing.

“I told my friend Koda about what happened.” I say, trying to fill the lull in conversation. “You know, the one who got sick while we were hooking up? I hope that’s okay. I just wanted someone to talk to.”

“That’s fine. I don’t care who you tell. Talking is good.”

“Yeah, talking is good.”

He continues staring, and it feels like he’s looking right through me. I wonder if he has people to talk to. I hope he does. Everyone needs an ear every so often. I see him around with other students sometimes, but I don’t know if they’re his friends or just people he studies with… or people he fucks.

I was happy that Koda took what happened with Gabe well; it’d have been a bummer if he was an asshole about it. I’m not sure who else I would have told. Maybe Corinne…or maybe Samantha. Samantha probably would be ecstatic. It was hard for her to tell me that she wanted to date women and she would be excited to know that I understood what she was going through.

“Well, see you around.” I give Gabe a little wave. 

I head down the hall and into the gymnasium, heading for the locker rooms. I meet with Zack and then do a bit of homework, feeling better about having something on me. It’s like a safety blanket, as fucked up as that sounds. 

I start packing up my bag because it’s about time for my next class. It’s writing intensive—all the students are required to take it their first year—it “prepares us to succeed in college” or some bullshit. I hate writing. A lot. I’m bad at it and always have been. I don’t think my skill will get any better than where it is now. I don’t have any interest in it, either. I’m more into hands-on work and writing is just boring. That’s why I wasn’t psyched about college. I knew there would be more writing. More reading. More crap. I want to try in my classes, but sometimes I feel content just skating by as an average student. Or below average, I guess.

I head out of my dorm and sit in class, listening as the professor begins the lecture. The course is painfully dull as always. They’re trying to teach us about avoiding use of the passive voice but I don’t even understand what that is. They assign us a short paper that we’re supposed to run through some special grammar checking program. By the end I feel even stupider.

Class doesn’t finish until five and by the time it does I’m pretty fucking hungry. I head to the dining hall and scarf a plate of poorly made curry then start back towards my room. I’m in the stairwell between the second and third floor when I run into Samir. He’s wearing pyjamas, looking exhausted and disgruntled as hell to see me. “Hey,” I say uncomfortably as he attempts to shuffle past me.

He ignores me, so I follow him and grab his shoulder. He shakes me off, turning around and shoving me away. “What?” he asks.

“Did you ever find out what happened?” 

He pushes a few stray strands of wavy, black hair out of his face and then wraps his arms around himself. “No. I have no idea.”

That’s probably why he’s so mad. I bet he’s embarrassed.

“I think you were worried for nothing,” I say in an attempt to be reassuring. “I’ll let you know if I can remember anything else about what you said or were doing that night.”

“No,” he snaps. “I’m not thinking about that anymore. It was a whole week ago and it’s not a big deal.”

“That seems out of character for you.”

“Well, you don’t know me very well, then, do you?” 

“I’d know you if you let me.”

Samir’s always given me a hard time. I never gave him any reason for it, so I can’t seem to let it go.

“No thanks,” he says.

“Your loss. I’m good company.”

“Doubt it. You’re just full of shit.”

This guy can’t say one nice thing. This time when he turns around, I let him leave. It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to punch him in the back of his fucking stuck-up head and send him falling down the nearest flight of stairs.