Dres offers to drop me off at the airport Tuesday evening, which is a lucky thing because my mom and I are ignoring each other. She says I've still got too much angst and I've decided that she's a traitor to my love life goals.

     "You're insanely early for this flight," he says when he pulls up to the curb outside my terminal.

     "Like I said when you made the same comment earlier," I stare at him pointedly, "I have travel anxiety. Sue me."

     "What are you going to do for three hours?" he asks as I climb out. He grabs my duffle from the middle cushion because Dres carrying my bags is now a thing.

     I shrug my shoulders as he comes around the truck. "I don't know. Contemplate all the ways my mom ruins my life regularly."

     "Mature," Dres says.

     "That's me. Picture of maturity."

     He slides the bag onto my shoulder, and his fingers linger. It's already dark outside even though it's only five, but the lights from the airport make it easy to see him.

     I smirk. "You're going to miss me." Okay, so maybe that wasn't the most tactful way to point that out.

     "No, I'm actually quite looking forward to my five days of peace and quiet at the shop."

     "Uh huh," I say disbelievingly.

     "I'm not the one who bemoaned only having Sundays with me."

     "Wow, you're going to miss me like a lot, huh? This is doing wonders for my ego."

     "And who's only pacification was by giving them Saturday nights, too."

     "You know if you really start to miss me, like if you're just overcome and wrought with anguish, you can always Facetime me. Just be mindful of the time difference."

     Dres drops his face into a glare. I bite my tongue, happy to have won this round. It hits me then. "I did not freaking bemoan. I lamented. There is a difference. And pacify? You did not pacify me," I say heatedly. I add quickly as an afterthought, "I'll only be pacified if Saturday nights and goodnight make-outs are both on the table."

     Dres shakes his head, like he's questioning every decision that lead to him being right here with me. But he says, anyway, "How bout goodbye make outs?"

     "Well, I do have three hours to spare."

     The first message I receive when I turn my phone on, after landing in LA is from Dres.

         [DRES] 8:03 PM: Safe flight

         [DRES] 8:04 PM: Let me know when you land

     I'm grinning as I exit the ramp, and head towards the terminal exit.

[CAS] 11:58 PM: That was the longest flight of my life. It didn't feel that long the last time I came here. Granted, I slept the whole way. And this time I was stuck next to the brattiest kid ever to exist. He kept using my shoulder as a diving board for his action figures.

[CAS] 12:00 PM: ACTION FIGURES DRES. ACTION FIGURES.

         [DRES] 12:03 PM: This kid sounds like the child version of you

[CAS] 12:05 PM: Wow rude, I would never use someone's shoulder as a diving board. Now a cliff is a totally different story

[CAS] 12:05 PM: Also I'd never play with my action figures. Those things stay in the box.

[CAS] 12:06 PM: Wait, what are you doing up

[CAS] 12:06 PM: it's like 3am there

[CAS] 12:06 PM: and you get up at like 5

[CAS] 12:06 PM: go to bed man what the hell

         [DRES] 12:07 PM: I thought I was supposed to be the Mr. Grey

[CAS] 12:07 PM: so Dres has jokes at 3am

[CAS] 12:07 PM: good to know but seriously go to sleep

[CAS] 12:08 PM: like don't even text me back I won't even be offended. Just like sleep and try not to think about how you have to be up in three hours

[CAS] 12:11 PM: okay so I totally lied I'm a little offended 

     Three days later, I'm shocked to find I don't hate LA.

     It's nothing like I expected it to be, which is to say the people are way less pretentious than I always imagined. The foods significantly better than I anticipated, too. Not that it can compete with the food back home.

     USC is kind of honestly spectacular. The swim teams diverse both racially and sexually. Its the first space I've ever entered where I felt comfortable and at ease to say I'm gay. They didn't flinch or bat an eye at it. Instead, one of them asked what my pronouns were and then we hauled into a couple of cars to make our way to West Hollywood for some tacos.

     Its crazy to me that a team like this can exist when a team like mine exists, so completely and totally opposite. These guys have each others backs. They aren't about to throw anyone under the bus. They're close, not just because they live in a varsity house together, but because they took the time to get to know each other and accept each others' differences.

     I want what they have. I think I always have. And I fit. I blend so seamlessly, I have to remind myself this isn't my team.

     If my life wasn't what it was, I'd choose USC without question.

     My last night there, the team's hosting a Halloween party. Colleges makes a whole show of Halloween, dragging it out into the entire weekend. Apparently the swim team's party is just one stop on the Halloweekend tour. It's a Friday night, which I think only adds to the party atmosphere. Josh told me most people go out Tuesdays and Thursdays, too. I can't imagine partying that much in a week.

      I don't have a costume, so I dress in all the school merch I was gifted. I'm an official USC student for the night.

     Josh and the rest of the team herd me into the kitchen for a pregame before everyone else gets there. We do shots and shotgun beers over the sink, blasting music that was popular when I was in sixth grade. By the time the house fills, I'm way past buzzed and on the last stretch to blacking out.

     I don't know what it is about LA and being overly friendly. If I was back home, minding my business in the corner of the room, while I contemplate whether my thoughts are getting louder or if the music is getting softer, nobody would bother me.

     Here, it's like I've got a sign on my forehead that says come socialize with me. When Sue walks up to me, she parts the crowd of people around her in a way that tells me she's a pretty big deal on campus. She's hot by anyone's standards, with slanted dark eyes that hypnotize and even darker hair.

     She steps into my space, smelling tangy and sharp, like she picked up someone's cologne when she was hugging them. "I heard we got a transfer student, are you him?" she asks, batting her lashes at me. She met me earlier. We had a whole conversation.

     "It's me. Cas," I say.

     "Nice to meet you," she responds placing her hand on my forearm.

     I lean away from her because while flirtations are cute and super flattering, I'm not trying to lead anyone on. "I love your whole aesthetic," I say because it sounds like the right way to compliment an LA girl. "But I think I should go on record that I'm gay."

     "You're sweet," she says as she touches my cheek. And then she's kissing me, a closed-mouth soft thing that feels akin to an elementary school first kiss.

     "Thanks?" I say when she pulls away. She was definitely the one to move. "I've got a something – a someone, a Sunday someone, most recently Saturday someone, too."

     She puts her hands on her hips. "Don't let a guy lock you down. Life's too short for that kind of possessive shit."

     People in California get on soapboxes about the weirdest things. Like the social constructs of dating. And why organic avocados are beneficial to long term sustainability.

     "Sure," I say and also, am I supposed to tell Dres a girl kissed me? Why did she kiss me? I told her I was gay. "I'm going to go now," I decide out loud before she kisses me again. I turn to leave, try to walk away, but its more of a stagger-try-not-fall-maybe-should-try-crawling type of thing.

     "Hey man." 

     I halt as Joshua comes barreling into me and locks onto my shoulders. Joshua's a sophomore, and also the only one in the house who had a second bed no one slept in so he's been hosting me. He's a nice guy. He insisted on doing five shots together earlier, one for each of the five days I'd be here. I didn't care to correct him. "You good?"

     "I'm not drunk you're drunk."

     He laughs. See Dres, I think pointedly. I am funny. "That wasn't really English. Why don't you do a lap and burn off some of that alcohol?"

     This must be a thing college swimmers do.

     I nod my head and head for the front door. The last time I checked there was a pool in their sports center. Last time I checked I didn't remember where their sports center was. I pull out my phone to put it in my maps and stop on the porch. Outside, the party's just as alive, pouring out onto the front lawn.

     I step off to the side and find a small table to sit on. I've got a bunch of text messages in my group chat with Grace and Halston.

         [G.M.] 9:22 PM: HOW DRUNK ARE YOU

         [H.S.] 9:23 PM: all caps, really?

         [G.M.] 9:25 PM: Cas, your snap story is fuckin hysterical

         [G.M.] 9:25 PM: Plz save it

         [G.M.] 9:25 PM: Like do it right now. Exit the messages and go save your story and then come back.

     I do as I'm told and save my snap story.

         [H.S] 9:26 PM: Please be careful and text us when you wake up tomorrow

         [H.S] 9:26 PM: Also if you can manage it leave a garbage pail by your bed and a water bottle

         [G.M] 9:27 PM: He's across the country and you're still trying to be his mom

        [G.M.] 9:27 PM: Let him live

        [H.S] 9:28 PM: Shut up

[CAS] 11:02 PM: a girl kissed me

[CAS] 11:03 PM: do I telell drs ues or no

         [G.M.] 11:04 PM: NO

         [H.S.] 11:04 PM: Agreeing with Grace on this one. Definitely do not tell him.

     Okay, fine I won't tell him. I'll just tell him something else. I open my messages with Dres.

[CAS] 11:05 PM: apapretnly it is customary to to do a lap to burn off alcohol

[CAS] 11:05 PM: *aparently

[CAS] 11:05 PM: *allan relikt

[CAS] 11:05 PM: *appalrnrlg

[CAS] 11:05 PM: FUCLK IT

         [DRES] 11:06 PM: Did they haze you? I thought they only did that once you were on the team. And I thought that was against the law.

         [DRES] 11:06 PM: In any event, under no circumstances are you to get into a pool right now

         [DRES] 11:06 PM: By 'do a lap' they probably  meant go walk it off. But don't even do that. Just stay wherever you are.

         [DRES] 11:06 PM: Where are you

[CAS] 11:07 PM: Ordinarlu I would listen to you

     I shove my phone into my jeans and make a move to stand. It's time for bed. USC is nice but they party too hard and tequila must be the liquid form of tryptophan.

     I take the stairs on all fours, dragging myself into Joshua's room. I'm starting to get the spins, which is incidentally making me want to vomit everywhere. It's a godsend that Joshua's room is empty.

     I lay on the floor half inside, half in the hallway. I close my eyes just to rest them for a second, to stop the spins from feeling so spinny. This is nice. I'm glad this is a rug. I'm thankful for you, rug.

     My phone is vibrating incessantly, to the point where I can no longer ignore it. I struggle to get it out of my front pocket

     There's an incoming call from Dresden Gibson.

     "I did say Facetime right?" I say when I pick up.

     "I've called you five times, Calvin," Dres snaps. He sounds extra snappy.

     "I was trying to sleep."

     "Oh, you were trying to sleep."

     "Are you mocking me? I can't tell. Hey, funny story, I got kissed by a girl tonight."

     Dres hangs up. I look at my phone like it's suddenly a foreign object. I call Dres back.

     "That was rude," I say.

     "Ordinarily I would listen to you," he responds. "I tell you not to get into a pool. And your response is ordinarily I would listen to you."

     "I can't be one hundred percent certain on this right now but did you not say something like, I don't know, stay where you are?"

     Dres is silent.

     "I'm back in my room now. I was outside and now I'm inside. You said stay where I was but I wanted to go to my room. Hey, we're talking on the phone. That's nice. You should've Facetimed me. I would've been more impressed. And I forget what you look like."

     "Did they haze you?"

     "I don't understand the question."

     "Force you to drink."

     "No, they asked me if I drank. And I said occasionally. And they were like well we're throwing a Halloween party. And I was like well if there was ever an occasion it's now. And then I took five shots with Joshua. And chugged a rum and coke. And shot gunned two beers."

     "You should be careful how much you drink."

     "It's fine. If you drink too much here, you just do a lap." Dres laughs. I laugh, too. The tension eases. "For a second there I thought you were going to choke me through the phone."

     "For a second, I was."

     "And not in a kinky way."

     "Are you going to sleep?" he asks, ignoring my statement. He always ignores the good stuff.

     "No, I'm talking to you."

     "If you're going to party, you should pace yourself better. It's only eleven."

     I roll my eyes. "What're you doing up? Wait, it's officially Halloween there. Happy Halloween. Are you giving out candy? You should definitely give out candy. And dress up as grumpy cat. You wouldn't have to dress up. Just say you're grumpy cat. Actually, don't even say it. Everyone will just guess."

     "I didn't think it was physically possible to talk more than you already do," he says, sounding exhausted.

     "Wait – what're you doing up again?"

     "You texted me."

      "I did?"

     "Yes, you did."

     "What'd I say?"

     Dres pauses and it's like the longest pause of my entire life. "That you want to bang. In all the Kamasutra positions preferably. And even some you made up."

     I drop my phone, howling like a fatally wounded animal. I pick it back up. "No way. There's no way. I couldn't have. It even sounds like something I'd say."

     "Because you did."

     "And what did you say?" I ask, unable to feel embarrassed this intoxicated.

     "I'd take it under advisement."

     "You'll take it under advisement?" I repeat back.

      Dres is silent again. I think I may throw up.

     "You declined my sex offer?"

     Dres laughs. At first, just once. Like a bark. Maybe its his puppies. Then he's really laughing and I know its not Delta or Charlie. He's laughing so much that, it's almost like I told a joke. Except I didn't. So maybe he did.

     "Are you serious..." I start to say. "You were lying?"

     Dres is still laughing as his says, "You deserved that."

     I hang up on him. I wait a minute. When he doesn't call, I call him back. "You were supposed to call me back, asshole," I say.

     "I knew you'd call back."

     "Wow, you're a dick. Wow."

     "Yeah, but you like it." His tone is playful. My ears practically fall off of my head. I am so confused by all the turns of events here. Dres making sex jokes. Dres teasing me. I need to not be in California. I need to be with him.

     "Are you drunk?"

     Dres says dryly, coming back to himself pretty quickly, "No."

     "Yeah, I can't even imagine you drunk. Does alcohol have an effect on you? Or are you immune?"

     "Ha ha," he says as he yawns, loudly.

     "Aw, you're losing steam on me."

     "It's late here. I was up early. You stressed me out," he says his voice muffled like he may be face down in a pillow. I turn over on the floor, inching backwards till I'm in the room and I can kick the door closed. 

     "Sooooo," I say. "Touch yourself." My voice has dropped several octaves. With most of the noise from outside blocked by the door, I'm fully aware of Dres's breathing on the other side of the phone.

     "What?" His voice is jolting, wide-awake.

     "Touch yourself. It'll wake you up."

     "I can't tell if you're saying this because you're drunk or because you're drunk."

     "Both."

     "I'm not touching myself."

     "It'll help with the stress, too."

     "I'm fully aware of the health benefits."

     "You say that like you don't regularly touch yourself."

      "And you're going to regret saying this."

     "I regularly touch myself. And I regularly think of you when I do it." Dres stays silent and I don't know if I should keep going or stop. My voice gets really husky when I say, "I'll touch mine if you touch yours."

      Dres growls. "I'm going to bed."

     "Fine. I'll just be touching mine alone, then. Sweet dreams."

     I hang up and can barely keep my eyes open long enough to pull myself into bed, let alone get my hands anywhere near my junk.