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“That’s what matters, you know,” Gabe whispered.
Oliver kissed him on the tip of his nose. “I hope so, love. I really do.”
Eighteen
Things settled in over the next few weeks, but Oliver stopped feeling better. Reuniting with Gabe only did so much for his mood, and before long he found himself sullen, sinking into uncomfortable thoughts about his mother. His nightmares started up again, and he stopped sleeping over at Gabe’s to avoid awkward questions.
Twice now Gabe mentioned therapy, and Oliver felt sick at the thought of having to relive what his mother did to him. What purpose would it serve to recount in gory detail being kidnapped and tortured until his demons were purged? To relive the horror which forced him to exist the rest of his life covered in scars?
The matter was dropped, but both of them noticed the shift. He was drinking more, and he hadn’t made a single sentence of progress on his dissertation. When Gabe mentioned it, Oliver walked away and didn’t talk to him for the rest of the night.
Just before the start of the fall term, Leo sent a text to Oliver, telling him about a house party right off campus. Oliver and Gabe were having a quiet night in, binging on movies and junk food, but Oliver perked up at the mention.
“You want to go?” he asked, almost bouncing on the sofa cushion.
Gabe frowned, worrying his bottom lip for a moment. “Are you sure you’re up for going out and drinking? What if you get wasted?”
Oliver scoffed. “I’m not a bloody child, you know. I’m old enough to manage a few drinks and conversation.”
Gabe’s cheeks flushed, and just when Oliver was sure he was going to be turned down, he shrugged. “You know what, why not? The semester starts soon and we might as well go out and do something fun before we’re drowning in work, right?”
Oliver’s grin threatened to split his face, and he kissed him. “Brilliant. I really need to just unwind.”
Scrambling from the sofa, he rushed upstairs to change into jeans and a t-shirt. Gabe hadn’t bothered to change out of his own lounge clothes, but he wasn’t fussed as they headed out to the address Leo texted.
It was only a few minutes away from the campus, and they decided to walk, avoiding the hell that was parking in the area. They could hear the party from a block away, and Oliver started to feel his adrenaline ramping up. He wanted to drink, to forget about his looming depression or Gabe’s refusal still to move in with him. He wanted to forget he’d come from a shitty, broken home with a bitch of a mother and an absentee father. He wanted to forget that he’d done it all for his sibling, and all for what?
It felt like nothing.
He let go of Gabe’s hand as they approached the door, and as it swung open, he was met with a wave of weed and cigarette smoke. He breathed it in, smiling a little, even when Gabe was grimacing, and they pushed through a throng of people.
They moved straight for the kitchen where someone immediately shoved a joint into his face. Ignoring a pointed look from Gabe, he took a long drag, blowing the smoke out in a long stream before reaching for a stack of red, plastic cups. He was just grabbing the gin when Gabe’s hand curled around his wrist.
“Don’t go too crazy.”
Oliver sneered, yanking his hand away. “It’s a party, Gabriel. I want to get wankered, and I don’t want you breathing down my neck about it. I’ve been bloody good this whole summer.”
Gabe flinched, pulling away. “Fine. I’m going to find a beer and see if Leo’s around.”
Oliver waved him off, throwing a few ice cubes into the cup, then poured straight gin. He drank it all to the delight of a few guys standing nearby who shouted for him to do it again.
He refilled it.
They hooted, shoving their glasses into the air, and he repeated the gesture until the bottle was half gone, and he could feel the alcohol and weed seeping into his limbs.
The feeling was light, heady and wonderful. He found another joint, taking several hits before making his way down a crowded hallway, toward the source of the music. Bypassing the main living room, he found what looked like a game room with a pool table set up, another bar which had a long board, shot glasses glued to the top. A tall guy with a massive, dark beard was pouring whiskey into each one.
There was a line of people screaming, waiting for their shots, and Oliver threw his head back and laughed as the tall man tipped the board up, and all six people took their shots at once.
“Fucking brilliant,” he declared.
“I’d recognize that cute accent anywhere,” came a voice from his right.
Oliver spun, and he came face to face with a tall blonde, with wide shoulders, wearing a pink polo shirt. He had a wide smile, almost familiar, and Oliver tried to place it. “Er…?”
“You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked, his shining teeth poking over his bottom lip with his smile. “We were having a really nice night until some twitchy little fella pulled you into the bathroom. I never saw you again.”
Oliver’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit! Texas?”
