Lane marched all the way up to his room and slammed the door behind him making the whole house shake. He wished it would crumble down with him in it. His stomach churned and his mouth shifted between dry and wet as his throat tightened, trying to stop everything from crawling back up. He ran for it, throwing up violently in tears into his sink.

He belt out a scream worthy of scaring away a banshee into his pillow, biting and tugging its innocent corners with his teeth. The tears that fell onto it was squid black with running eyeliner, streaking down Lane’s face like veins of dark magic. He curled up into a foetal position to stop himself from violently convulsing with each breath he took and dug his nails mercilessly into his own shoulders. He couldn’t think of a word to describe the emotion he was feeling- ‘angry’ was undermining it. He didn’t care that his alarm clock lay halfway across the room in pieces or that his favourite David Bowie poster was shredded in half. He was yanked away right when everything seemed too perfect to be. Right before their first kiss. He hadn’t even apologized to Kenny or said good-bye. What would Kenny think of him now? Lane bawled as he decided that Kenny probably thought he was a heart-less playboy who courted people for amusement. He stopped for a moment, whimpering and making involuntary high-pitched squeaks with the bottom of his throat as he caught his breath then broke down again.

“Lane” Lois said quietly as she peeked inside the room. She looked about, testing the atmosphere then stepped inside, cautiously walking to her brother who was sprawled dramatically all over his floor. “Lane, you’re on the floor” she pointed out. Lane continued crying, his pillow tucked underneath his armpit smeared in black and glossy pink. The carpet beneath him was wet with tears, snot and drool he didn’t have the energy to swallow as he cried. “It’s my fault” Lois accepted, settling down next to her brother and placing his head on her lap.

“I’m glad you realized” Lane said scornfully, sitting up and tucking his knees in, to rest his head on. He pressed the corners of his eyes with his middle finger to stop the gush of the waterworks. He didn’t need to look in a mirror to know his face looked decimated, barely able to open his eyes or breathe. He probably looked more haunting than the statues at the venue. He scowled at his sister without remorse and watched as her temper started ticking as well.

“Listen.” She snapped, “Stop being such a damsel! You could’ve just called him and explained everything!”

Lane flared his nostrils, “I don’t have the audacity unlike you!” he was so mad he stood up, towering over her. These were the moments his height came in advantage, when he wanted to challenge someone and prove them wrong, “You were probably flitting about making out with Kenny’s second and third cousins!” She jumped and she slapped him.

“Pozor na ústa Bratislav*!” she growled, using Lane’s second name – a Kalchik family tradition, “Just because you’re down in the dumps doesn’t mean you have to drag everyone down there with you!” The pain inflicted on him made him rethink everything. No amount throwing things and screaming will take him back to that moment, no amount of bullying and holding Lois responsible will get Kenny to come back and hold him. He let out a loud sigh and cooled down, flopping onto his bed for a minute or two to relax. Lois smiled at him to reassure herself that his silence wasn’t just a quiet before another storm. He harrumphed and kicked his heel in her direction just to be petty and reached over his side to grab his phone. He couldn’t determine whether he should smile back or scowl at her smug grin, so he just waited until she got a hint and left the room.

“Oh!” Lois noted, quickly getting up and dusting herself, “I’m rooting for you!” she said hurriedly, pumping her thumbs in the air to be supportive and fled the room, leaving Lane all alone. As he turned on the phone, the home screen flooded with notifications of missed calls and texts from none other than Kenneth Ellen Moore. Lane sighed in exasperation and searched for Kenny’s number in his contacts, but before he even dialled the number, his phone started to ring. Lane yelped out a high-pitched “EEK!” He panicked so hard he fled underneath the bed and listened as a couple of rings went by, then craned just his hand over his bed, petting it down until he found his phone. He pulled it down towards him and answered.

“Lane!” Kenny laughed in relief, “Is this a bad time?”

“No” Lane replied dryly. He took a forced breath through his blocked nose, making a sloshy rude noise, “I’m sorry I had my phone on silent before”

“Are you? Are you crying?” Kenny asked from the other side of the phone. He sounded like he was going to drop everything and dash through Lane’s door the same second.

“Was” Lane corrected, his words coming out in a measly whistle. He hated to admit it, but his eyes did swivel towards his door just in case Kenny burst through the door, leaving a cartoonish hole of himself.

“Oh my gosh!” Kenny gasped, “Lane if you’re in any trouble, I take full responsibility, I-“

“No, no, Kenny” Lane said, starting to tear up again, “You did nothing wrong. I just wanted to say sorry for fleeing off…I didn’t even say goodbye!”

“Lane!” Kenny barked, surprising Lane and shutting his mouth up, “Should I come over?”

Lane broke down, he bit his nails, staring at the dewy strings of saliva that pulled out like hot mozzarella as he dragged them away from his mouth. His heart felt too swollen to sit in his small flat chest, “please?” Lane accepted. Kenny hung up the same instance. Just then, Lane’s mother burst through the door, making him skeptical whether she had been listening to the conversation all along.

“Lane?” she fussed, “You’re crying, you’re under the bed, your room is a mess, what’s happened?”

He had to think fast – really fast, “I THINK I DRANK THE WRONG PUNCH!” He almost forgot to cry with the look on his mother’s face.

*Translation:

Pozor na ústa Bratislav: Watch your mouth Bratislav