PERFECT DEBAUCHERY: A COLLEGE MM ROMANCE

The kiss is sloppy and wet and I'm so horny.

"Caleb, stop" Tim says firmly as I mouth at the skin on his neck, rubbing my palm against the bulge in his jeans.

"Caleb!" he hisses, grabbing both my wrists in one of his hands.

"What?" i breathe heavily

"Stop" he repeats again

"Why? What's wrong?" i run my eyes all over his face

"What's wrong? What's – Caleb we're at church!" his whispers urgently.

Of course we're in church, it's bible study, like every other thursday night, but that has never stopped us in the past. I stare at him, trying to figure out why this is a problem now and I come up with a gigantic nothing. "I don't understand, why is this a problem?"

I'm sure I look just as confused as I am. "Tim what's going on?" I ask. He gives me a grim look which makes my arousal ebb. I adjust my clothes and straighten my shoulders.

"Baby" he says quietly, running his hands along my arms. He exhales sharply through his nose, looking anywhere but at me, like a guilty dog.

"Tim you're fucking scaring me. Tell me, what's wrong? I stare up at him trying to catch his eyes.

"I don't think we should keep doing this. I don't think this can work" he says solemnly

"Tiiiim! Is that what this is about?" I sigh in exasperation. "We discussed this already. I know I'm going away to college soon, but I really believe we can make it work" I say with a soft voice reaching for his hands so i can hold them in mine.

"How are we going to do that?" he asks, giving me a berating look as though I'm a misbehaving child. I hate it when he looks at me like that, making me feel even smaller than my 5'6" frame.

"We call each other, as much as possible, every night, we facetime, we visit all the time, and if that's not possible, we send videos and photos -"

"Christ! You're such a child!" he snorts

"I'm not a child" i scowl

"Yes, you are! What on earth are you rambling about? What did you think this shit we're doing would lead to? Marriage?!" he scoffs.

I watch as a sneer forms on his lips and my heart hammers in my chest "I..... that's not... I don't know." humiliation wraps hands of steel around my throat

"Look" he sighs "I don't know what you think has been going on between us all this while, but I promise you, it wasn't that serious. Did you think we were in love?" he chirps in mockery.

"We were in love. We are in love" I say weakly, I can't even hear myself over the unpleasant rushing noise in my ears.

"Stop saying that, it's not true!" he says, softly, coddling me. His eyes are dancing with amusement.

"Are you laughing at me? Is this funny to you?"

"Listen, think of this as a chance for you to go to college to live your best life without the guilt of somebody waiting at home for you"

"Is it funny that you've been using me for years? I bet you won't be amused when everybody knows you've been getting your rocks off with a minor"

"You're eighteen Caleb" he says dryly

"I've been sucking your cock long before I turned eighteen" "Shut up, Caleb." he says in a bored tone, like I didn't just threaten him.

"Nobody will listen to you. Christ! Is this how needy you are? Trying to blackmail me into being your boyfriend" he says "boyfriend" with disgust written boldly all over his face

"No... I'm not. Tim.... We can work this out. We can make it work." I say with a placating tone.

"Stop it Caleb" he turns away, his back now facing me. "I'm planning to propose to Ellie" The indifference in his tone is like a smack across my face. The way he downplays his betrayal like it's nothing more than a trifle. I feel naivety and idiocy in tons, so much that my head swims with it.

"What the fuck Tim?" he doesn't look at me, there's no sign that he hears me, and my heart can't take it "Tim, you promised" he doesn't budge and I hang on to desperate hope that it's shame making him hide his face from me. With despair hot on my heels, I march around to face him and he gives me a look that says he thinks I'm the stupidest person alive.

"And what would you have me do? Would you have me wait for you and then after you graduate we can get married and disappear into the sunset? What I would do to live in your world for a day. I'm sure it's summer all the time and the rivers flow with chocolate" he says with a gentle tone, but the vibrant mockery in his eyes makes my cheeks heat with embarrassment.

"I was hoping we could figure -"

"Don't say that caleb!" he snaps

"You don't even love her" I plead, each word a struggle to utter, past the lump rising at the back of my throat.

"It doesn't matter"

"It does matter because you will never be happy but I can make you happy." In misery, I attempt to bury myself in him, wrapping my arms around his middle. I feel his warm body go stiff. "I will make you happy if only you let me. I'll make you happier than Ellie ever will. please." I sound so fucking desperate because i am.

Swiftly, he pulls himself out of my hold, grabs my shoulder, and tries to shake some sense into me. "Stop being ridiculous Caleb!" he quips, his face flushing.

"I'm sorry" I whisper, choking back a sob, as a rogue tear leaks onto my cheek.

"Go to college, live your life, and try to be happy. If you have a single ounce of sense in your stupid head, don't come back here. I'm going back to Bible study now-wait a while before you come in after me." he says, giving me a look of disdain.

I watch him in silent agony as he adjusts his clothes and stalks back inside the church-Like he's not the cause of the searing, asphyxiating pain tearing through my chest-a wide gaping hole, clenching and unclenching.

All kinds of disturbing notions run through my head. Like going in there and screaming at the highest point of my lungs that Tim likes boys, and he can't marry Ellie, how I'm in love with him, and it's their fault Tim is just too scared to love me back.

Their watchful, judgmental eyes, their veiled hostility and backhanded love. But I can't. I pull myself together instead.

I pull myself together while my brain buzzes inside my skull. I try to stand but my legs are too weak, too fragile and unsteady. I stumble forward, my knees wobble like they know nothing of their use anymore, I try to steady myself holding onto the wall for support.

My head swims with great intensity. In an instant the ground races up too fast and the air leaves my body as I land hard on my side.

I don't know how long I lie on my back and stare at the starry sky as it turns in a continuous circle.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

A pair of brown eyes peer down at me - Ellie's. So full of kindness it makes me sick.

"Caleb, Tim said you weren't feeling well. What's wrong?" she asks, all concern. If only she knew. If only she knew her precious boyfriend used to whisper I love you to me - before he dumped me like trash.

"I don't feel so good," I mumble, humiliated by how pathetic I sound.

"Have you eaten today?" she asks gently. I shrug. I forget to do basic things like eat. Maybe I don't even deserve to.

"Come on. Let me take you home. I'll make you something." I let her lead me to her car, feeling like a child. Like a burden.

She treats me like something fragile, something that might break. At my house, she doesn't even ask - just follows me inside. I'm too hollow to fight her. I sit on the kitchen counter like a kicked dog while she bustles around the kitchen. The smell of grilled cheese fills the air, but it doesn't reach me.

"Ellie?" My voice cracks.

"Yeah?" she answers, flashing me that perfect smile.

"How's Tim?" She blushes. She actually blushes.

"Good. Really good. I'm happy."

I laugh - an ugly sound. "You think he's happy too?"

"What?" "If he proposed, would you say yes?"

Her face hardens. "I don't think that's any of your business." I smile cruelly. "You wound me, Ellie. I thought we were family." She places the plate in front of me - cheese melting, warm and perfect - and I hate her for it.

"Would you have his babies?" I press.

"Yes," she says, voice shaking a little.

"Well, not that you asked," I sneer, "but you don't deserve him."

Her brown eyes flash. "And what would you know about it?"

"I know he'll hurt you," I say, voice flat, because that's what he did to me. Her hand clenches around her keys.

"I think it's best if I leave."

"Yeah." She flinches. Like I struck her.

"I'm sorry," I say, but it's a lie. I want her to feel an ounce of the rot chewing through me.

"You're not well, Caleb. I hope you find peace," she says quietly, backing away.

"I know what it's like," I mutter, "to want someone who never wanted you back."

Her face crumples in pity, and that's worse than anger. I don't want her pity. I want her to bleed like I'm bleeding.

"If you ever need-"

"I don't," I cut her off.

She leaves without another word.

I drag myself upstairs and collapse into bed, aching. Thinking about Tim. About Ellie. About how no one ever picks me. Not my parents. Not Tim. Not even God.

Maybe there's something rotten in me. Something everyone else can smell. Maybe that's why I always end up alone. I think about disappearing. About vanishing so thoroughly even God wouldn't remember I existed.

ONE MONTH LATER

A month ago, Tim had broken my heart in the most cruel and spiteful way known to man.

Two weeks ago, I left Shiloh creek for college. Two weeks since I left home for college without a goodbye from my mother.

I had woken up to the sound of somebody moving around downstairs. It had seemed like a normal morning, which wasn't right because it was not a normal morning. I was going to college. I wondered if my mum was still asleep . I wondered if she'd hug me tightly and then tell me she loved me, tell me to take care of myself, tell me to call if I needed anything.

When I finally went downstairs, it was only my father downstairs at the kitchen table on his phone, probably reading the news or scrolling through emails.

My eyes kept darting to the hallway that leads to my parents bedroom. The door was shut. My father cleared his throat and offered me coffee: "there's coffee if you want any"

"Thanks" I didn't want any, but I poured a cup and took a sip anyway. Just to have something to do.

Then my father grabbed his car keys, patted himself down for his wallet, and nodded towards the door and said "Are you ready?"

I wasn't ready. I still hadn't seen my mother. She didn't come downstairs so it was possible that she wasn't home.

But I was hurt. I am hurt. We didn't talk about it. Nobody said she's not coming or she should be here. And the drive, the drive had been quiet and awkward.

My father had done his best, asked me if I was nervous, told me to call if I ever needed anything. Told me he loved me, even clapped me on the shoulder before leaving. It wasn't the warmest farewell, but it was something-Something my mother hadn't even spared.

Knowing what my life looks there wasn't any special goodbyes. I had no friends back at home. I just couldn't seem to keep them. I can't say if it stems from inability to fit in or my ability to fit in so well-so well that I'm overlooked or ignored.

You might think what about Ellie? Ellie is my mother's younger sibling. She's basically my aunt, but she's my friend too. She had come over to see me before I left Shiloh creek. And Tim was with her. Tim was with her. I wanted to scream. I prayed to the universe to open up her mouth and swallow me. I wanted to tear him into a million tiny pieces. I wanted to cease to exist.

I could see it in his eyes that he wanted me to do that too. It shocked me to my core, it baffled me too.

I didn't understand what I had done to be on the receiving end of his resentment.

Even lying down and thinking about it now, I'm still baffled by his sudden resentment. I can't tell if it had always been that way, but maybe i was too desperate and naïve to notice it.

Then, the door swings open, slamming against the wall, with force and breaking through the silence and my thoughts.

I sit up with a start. A very huge and broad shouldered man walks in, dragging a large duffel bag him, wearing a hoodie even though it's warm outside.

You can see his hair is damp, with locks sticking to his forehead. Probably because he's sweating so much. He pushes his perfect blonde hair with one hand.

With a loud exhale he tosses his bag onto the empty bed. "Yo. You Caleb?" He rumbles

"Yes" I say quietly. My body, already trying to make itself small so we can both fit into the room.

He's huge, gym rat huge, he makes the room feel small. "Luke" he says.

Toeing off his sneakers, then "Hope you don't snore, man. I need my sleep, big season ahead".

I bob my head, because what could you say to that? He grins, it looks like something I've seen before.

"You snore or you don't snore?"

"I don't snore."

"You play anything?"

"Not really" I shake my head.

"Yeah, figured" He smiles that smile again and the feeling of deja vu creeps in again.

"I play hockey, defense. Got recruited. Full ride"

"Cool"

He drops into the bed, leans back on his elbows with a smirk "I was actually supposed to go to Minnesota, but Delaware made me a better offer. Probably a good call. I mean, their program is solid, but I like being on a team where I can actually stand out, you know? Anyway, summer training was brutal, but it paid off. Coach already told me I'll probably be on the first line. That's rare for a freshman, but, well..." He smirked that maddening smirk again . "What can I say?"

I nod again like I know what he's talking about.

"you follow hockey?"

"Not really" I reply quietly, already feeling like I'm disappointing him.

A mild look of irritation moves through his face. "Anyway, I think you should come to a game. We're gonna wreck Penn State this year. First game's in a few weeks. The crowd's insane, man, you'll see."

I nod again

"Are you mute, or just selectively ignoring me?" it seems I'm doing a good job of irritating him.

"I'm sorry, just a little tired." He nods and stretches his legs

"Oh, and if you hear me leaving at, like, five AM, that's for practice. Gotta keep the routine, you know?"

"Yeah, sure" I say. The silence is stifling.

"You run?"

"Nope. You do?"

"Yes" he says with an air of superciliousness

"Must be tough running with such big body."

Shit. I hope that doesn't sound weird but Luke looks pleased as he raps himself on his bicep

"This is my summer body."

"Right" It's clear that he's done talking, so I lean back on my bed and stare at the ceiling.

I stare at the ceiling until my vision blurs out. Just as I start to drift off, I feel the sensation of slipping and falling too fast, and my whole body jerks awake.

My heart hammers inside my chest, my limbs tingling and twitching with the phantom drop.

Luke's smile flashes in my mind again-bright, with an intensity that distracts you. But if you look closely, past the shine, you see it. The callousness.

SEPTEMBER

The next few weeks run by and I find myself running with it. Literally.

At first, Luke's constant jabs about my body seemed harmless.

Annoying, but harmless. Then, one day, he called me a weak-ass bitch. I don't know if it was the shock on my face that amused him, but he laughed and said he didn't mean it.

Later, he bought me running gear when I told him I didn't have any, like that made it better.

Now, as I walk to one of Luke's hockey games, I realize I've gotten used to him. Used to the big mouth, the offhand slurs, the smirks that no longer get under my skin.

I get to the arena and the arena is freezing. The kind of chill that bleeds under your skin and settles in your bones. I should have brought a jacket and something for my nose.

Luke had warned me about the cold but he never mentioned the smell. The sharp bite of wet concrete combined with the musty sour odor of sweat.

Then there's the greasy stench of the arena food-overcooked fries. Somewhere in the crowd, someone spills beer and the sour tang drifts through the crowd and I feel like I'm going to retch, if I had eaten anything today, I might have lost it right here.

The crowd is charged, roaring as skates carve across the ice. I feel like a complete moron as I shift in my seat, trying to keep warm, but every time I breathe out, my breath stares right back at me.

I feel even more of a moron as time goes on because I don't know what hockey is even about except that it moves too fast and the players are hell-bent on hurting each other.

I don't even know why I'm here-except that Luke would have nagged me to death if I so much as argued with him about coming. And so, here I am-just a hoodie, jeans, and zero common sense-freezing my ass off because I can't stand up for myself. Or maybe because, I'm a little curious about what Luke is like on the ice.

I find out what he's like a while later when he skates into the ice. and suddenly, it's like the game has just begun. My eyes follow him immediately.

Number 4, cutting across the ice, with that cocky energy-like he owns it. He moves fast, faster than someone his size should be moving. His presence is weighty and impossible to ignore. Every movement he makes is sharp and precise and ruthless.

There's chaos as players chase the puck. Bodies collide, sticks clash. Luke is everywhere at the same time and somehow he's always exactly where he needs to be.

I watch as he blocks a shot with his body, shoves a guy off balance, and skates off like it was nothing.

The guy stumbles, catching himself against the boards.

The crowd roars wildly. My eyes still follow Luke, as he plays with an edge like he's daring you to stop him. Minutes pass in a blur of speed of violence.

Then-I don't even see where the other guy comes from but-suddenly, Luke is slammed into the boards so hard the glass rattles. A sound like thunder cracks through the arena. Luke stumbles back, dazed.

His helmet is askew, his mouth bleeding. For a second, I think he might fall-but Luke doesn't hesitate. He surges forward-and for a moment, I swear, he looks even bigger.

I can see the fear in the other player's face. Then, gloves off, he swings. Luke smashes his fist into his opponent's face. Again. And again. And again.

Luke doesn't stop when the other guy goes down, his own mouth moving; he doesn't stop when blood is splattered across the ice. The refs dive in, pulling them apart. Luke is no longer smiling, he looks completely menacing. With blood on his teeth.

The crowd is losing its mind. People are on their feet, screaming, pounding the glass.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

A while later, I step out of the arena, shoving my already numb hands into my pockets as deep as it can go as the cold air gnaws at my face.

I should have worn gloves. I can still hear the roar of the crowd ringing in my ears, the last echoes of the game refusing to fade.

Luke's club (UD ice hens) won-because of course they did. I watched the whole thing from the stands, watched him fight, score, take control of the ice like it belonged to him. Like he belonged there.

In haste, fueled by the fear of freezing to death; I walk back to the dorm. I'm focused on getting home, on thawing out when I hear my name pierce through the cold air. "Caleb!"

I turn, my breath twirling in the air, and of course-because who else would it be?-Luke is the only person I know on this campus. He's jogging towards me, still in his underlayer. his perfect hair, pulled into a bun, is damp with sweat, stray locks dropping into his eyes. The fresh bruise forming on his jaw and the cut just above his nose are visible even in the dark.

He smiles fondly at me. "We're going for drinks" he says a little out of breath " and you're coming" Not a question, not an offer, but an order.

I'm too cold and exhausted, down to my bones, to be around Luke's cockiness right now. "uh... I don't think that's a good idea?" I blink at him

"Yeah?" He quizzes with a raised brow "why's that?"

"I'm kinda cold" Luke groans like I just physically wounded him. In an instant, his arm hooks around my neck, yanking me under his damp and overheated arm.

"Jesus-Luke!" My voice is muffled against his sweaty armpit. the sharp mix of soap and sweat stinging my nose. I twist, but his grip is solid, like he's done this a hundred times before. He's probably done this a hundred times.

"Quit being a little bitch!, I told you, bring a jacket!"

"Sorry. I forgot" Luke huffs in annoyance before releasing me with a shove.

"You're coming with me anyway." then he peers closely at me

"Are you okay? You look kind of pale"

"I'm fine. Just cold"

"I'm sure the bar's warm and there's food too."