Defining Us: The Calvin & Eric Story (69 Bottles) by Zoey Derrick Page B

 
    "Dunno…"  
    "I'm tracking your phone, be there soon, don't fucking move."  
    I plop down on something, and wait…

“FUCK!” I squeeze my eyes shut and throw my arm over them to block out the light pouring into my bedroom.  
    Jesus, I haven't been this fucking hung-over in…thinking hurts and I squeeze my eyes shut.  
    You’re a damn idiot.
    I grab a pillow and smother my face with it, growling.  
    I try like hell to roll over and go back to sleep, but it’s pointless. The minute consciousness returns, last night comes rushing back. “Fuck,” I growl as I throw my pillow across the room and open my eyes enough to see a glass of water on my table. “What the fuck?” Next to the water are a couple pills. “Who the…”  
    “That would be me.”  
    “Jesus,” I start and scramble, sitting up. “Fuck, what the hell are you doing here?”  
    “Hey fucker, you called me at three-thirty this morning.”  
    I scowl at him. “I did?”  
    I watch as Casey nods behind his coffee cup.  
    “Goddammit, I’m sorry.”  
    He shrugs. “You usually call before you go out.”  
    “I really needed to be alone.” I scrub at my face.  
    “Was it really that bad?” he asks before taking another sip from his coffee cup.  
    I groan, “Yes, but I’m not sure there is anything I can do about it. He said his piece then all but threw me out the door.”  
    “Since when are you the giving up type?” Casey inquires and my heart lurches in my chest.  
    “I’m not,” I tell him softly.  
    “Exactly, so what’s the problem?” he urges.  
    “I have a headache worthy of migraine medicine and I’m hungover like a motherfucker, that’s the problem.” I glare at him.  
    He scoffs, “Pfft, whatever.”  
    I shake my head. “Let me shower, then we can get some breakfast.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “What?” I scold him.  
    “It’s nearly two o’clock.”  
    “Shit.” I look over at the clock. “Fuuuccck!” I growl before crawling out of bed. My jeans are still on, but everything else is missing. I look over my shoulder at Casey. “Thanks.”  
    He smirks, shrugs and walks out of my bedroom. I stumble my half drunk, fully hungover ass to the shower.  

    Once inside the shower, with hot water running over my head and down my back, the last pieces from Calvin’s house slowly slide back into my mind. Calvin’s words rattle around like a bag of popping popcorn…

    "Jesus, Eric, I'm not something that you can magically put back together. It won't work like that. But this is also my choice. My choice whether or not this goes any further. It is my choice to realize and understand that every time I see fear or worry or pity in your eyes that you don't have to be here. You don't have to watch me go through this, and for what? For you? God dammit, Eric, I would walk through hell barefoot for you, but I cannot and will not put you through this. All this pain I know I am going to cause you, is it worth it?"  
     

    Even with what I said before I walked out, I knew I needed to leave. I knew that I needed to give him a chance to breathe and to take in everything. But more than anything, I needed him to be comfortable knowing that he told me his deepest secrets. I shake my head and scrub away the memory of his tortured expression when he told me to leave. A look I will not soon forget. A look of pure pain, agony and yet a detachment from the entire situation that I didn’t expect. Seeing him in pain is what made me cry, knowing that he has to fight who he is every damn day breaks my heart.  
    “Goddammit!” I growl before punching the wall of the shower. “Fuck,” I curse as I shake out my hand, dispelling the pain I’ve inflicted on myself. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy, not with him. Nothing with Calvin is ever fucking easy but this…fuck!”  
    Calvin was right, is this worth it? Is it worth the pain? The heartache? The frustration I know I’m going to feel while going through