Isaac felt his heart skip a beat when their history teacher said his project partner was Matt. They hadn't spoken in five years and Isaac still wasn't sure why. Just, one day, Matt said he never wanted to talk to Isaac ever again. Glancing across the classroom, he noticed that Matt looked a mixture of scared and upset.
Their teacher told them to sit according to their project pairs, so Matt grabbed his backpack and joined Isaac's table. He sat as far away as possible given the size of the desk.
"So," Isaac said awkwardly.
"I don't want to talk any more than is necessary, okay?"
Isaac nodded, looking at the handout that listed instructions. "This is…tough. We'll have to meet outside of school."
Matt sighed. "Great."
"You could come to my—"
"No! You come to my house."
"Okay. Chill out."
Matt stared at his notebook, breathing heavily. Then he stood and walked up to the teacher. "Can I switch partners?"
"What's wrong with Isaac?"
"I want a new partner."
"Sorry, Matt," the teacher said. "The pairings are final. You work with Isaac or you both fail the project."
Matt huffed and sat back in the chair. Isaac was watching him carefully; he looked like he wanted to throw up.
"Dude, it's just a project—"
"Shut up, or I'll make sure we fail, okay? I don't…want to do this."
"I'm not too thrilled about it either."
"You have no idea."
Isaac decided it would be easier if they could work as much as possible in class. So he looked at the handout and pointed at one of the topics: Roe vs Wade. "We could do this."
Matt glanced at the paper. "Sure. Whatever."
"We have to write a summary of the topic," Isaac read, more to fill the silence than anything, "and then explain the causes leading up to it, and what resulted from it."
"That's the abortion case, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I believe so."
Matt shifted in his seat, fiddling with his pencil; his hands were shaking. "I don't want to do it."
Isaac sighed. "Fine. You pick a topic."
"I don't care, just not that."
"Are you okay?" Matt was looking very pale.
"Just…yeah. I'm fine. Pick something else."
Isaac stared at Matt for a second before looking down at the paper. "We could do World War 2 propaganda?"
"Sure, yeah, that works." He glanced at the clock. "Two minutes left. Shit. Do you remember where I live?"
"Yeah, of course." How could he forget? He had walked from school to Matt's house that last day they'd talked, only to be yelled at.
"Come over around four."
Isaac nodded. Matt packed up his things and left the classroom seconds before the bell rang.
Matt hated that he had to work with Isaac. That was the last thing he ever wanted. It would be easier in his own home, instead of Isaac's, because at Isaac's…he shouldn't think about it. He couldn't concentrate on the rest of his classes that day, and he rushed home on his bike as soon as he could. He still had an hour before Isaac would show up, so he tried to calm himself down, but nothing worked. Flashes of that night came back to him: Camden throwing him in the pool, Mr. Lahey pulling him out, the other boys laughing and drinking and cursing.
When Isaac finally did show up, Matt was a mess. And it seemed that Isaac noticed.
"Are you okay, Matt?" he asked as soon as he stepped inside.
"Yeah, yeah, let's just get this over with." He led Isaac to his room and opened his laptop to start research.
"I know this is a school project," Isaac started, but Matt cut him off.
"I don't want to talk about what happened. Ever."
"If something happened to you—"
"Just shut up! Do you want to fail this project? Cuz I'm not afraid."
"Dude, you were my best friend for, like, five years, and then you suddenly never want to hear from me again. I think I deserve an explanation."
"No, you deserve nothing," Matt shot at Isaac, hands shaking over the keyboard. "If you really wanted to know, you could ask your dad."
"I did. The day it happened."
"And?"
"He punched me."
Matt looked up, intentionally making eye contact for the first time in five years. Now that he thought about it, he had noticed bruises on Isaac's face and arms a few times. But that was nothing, nothing, compared to what happened to Matt.
"You can tell me, dude," Isaac said. He looked…concerned, for lack of a better term. "If you want me to keep it secret, I will. I just need to know, man."
Matt pursed his lips and looked back at the computer screen. He felt the memories pushing their way to his consciousness, he could feel their hands on him, all over him, he could smell the booze on their breaths, he could taste the tears that had poured out of his eyes even before….
His heartbeat quickened, his hands froze in the air, tears stung at his eyes, but he couldn't stop, he couldn't stop remembering, remembering one of the boys laughing because Matt couldn't swim, remembering one boy saying, "What a pussy. Let's show him what happens to pussies," remembering the others laughing and taking off their clothes and his clothes and they grabbed his throat and pinned him down—
"Matt, what's going on?" Isaac had a hand on his shoulder; Matt jumped up, pushing past Isaac on his way to the bathroom.
He couldn't remember how many there were who tore him in half, he couldn't remember how many forced their dicks inside him even as he bled all over the ground, all he remembered was crying but not being able to scream because they covered his mouth, and he could feel the pain again and feel their hands on him and—
He barely made it to the toilet before violently throwing up, sobbing and moaning as he did. Isaac stood at the doorway, shock filling his face.
He remembered, he knew how many there were, six guys had touched themselves until they were hard enough to fuck him and tear him apart and then they each came inside him until he felt something trickle down his thighs and he wasn't sure how much was blood and how much was semen, and he was out of tears to cry and out of breath to scream and they all got dressed and threw him a towel to clean up and he hurt for days, almost weeks, and it was all because of this stupid fucking comic book he wanted from Isaac. That's why he hadn't spoken to him in five years, because he knew it was the comic book and he knew it wasn't Isaac but seeing Isaac just made him think of everything that had happened that night and it was all too much.
"I'm sorry," Isaac said, still watching from a few feet away. "For whatever it is I said or did that made you so angry at me. And I'm sorry for bringing it up."
"It wasn't you," Matt said, flushing the toilet. His stomach was slightly calmer. "It was nothing you did."
"Then what, Matt? What happened?"
Matt sighed, closing his eyes and pushing the memories away. "I don't want to say."
Isaac opened his mouth but shook his head and left. He returned a moment later, carrying something in his hand.
"I brought the comic book," he said. Matt took it from him. "The one you were supposed to pick up that day. I kept it in case…"
"In case I ever wanted it," Matt finished. Isaac nodded. "Thanks."
"I'm sure that if I told my dad who my partner was, he'd understand why I failed—"
"I don't want to fail, and I don't want you to either. Let's just do this."
Isaac nodded and they went back to Matt's room. He remembered seeing Isaac after school the next day and wanting to cry even though he'd cried all night, and telling him that he never wanted to see him again even though that wasn't true. He just didn't want to think about what happened, and he didn't want to explain to Isaac what the boys had done to him. To this day, he wasn't sure if Isaac's brother was one of the rapists. And he didn't want to accuse Camden if he was innocent.
They worked for a few hours until Isaac got a text from his dad that he needed to be home. Matt closed the front door behind him and watched him ride his bike, thinking about all the missed years of friendship that had resulted from some stupid boys and alcohol.
Isaac barely made it home in time, having stopped to answer a text from his brother. Camden was currently on his way to Afghanistan for a tour of duty. Isaac knew that whatever had happened to Matt that night, his brother was involved somehow. But Camden refused to tell him anything. When Isaac opened the door, his dad was standing in the hallway, waiting for him.
"Why did Camden tell me you're asking about Matt?" Mr. Lahey said.
Isaac bit his lip. "We have to do a school project together and—"
"I told you that you aren't allowed to see him anymore."
"I know, but if we don't do the project we both fail—"
Mr. Lahey slapped him hard. Isaac cowered away, backing into a wall.
"I don't care if you'd have to drop out of high school," Mr. Lahey said, moving closer, "because I told you never to see him again."
"Dad—"
"Shut up!" He slapped Isaac again. "You can't just go around upsetting your brother like that!"
"Upsetting him?" Isaac said incredulously. "Matt seemed pretty upset too!"
"What happened to Matt was his own fault. And don't you ever talk back to me like that." He moved aside and pointed upstairs. Isaac didn't have to be told twice; he ran up the stairs and into his room, closing the door and moving the desk in front of it. Even though his dad would kill him for doing that, he wanted the extra protection. His phone rang; it was Camden.
"So why are you asking about Matt?" Cam asked when Isaac picked up.
"We have to do a school project together and I went to his house and he had…some kind of mental breakdown."
Camden sighed. "Look, Isaac, just don't bring it up again, okay?"
"What happened?"
"I can't tell you."
"Please, Cam. I need to know why I lost five years of friendship with him."
Camden sighed again and didn't say anything for a minute. Isaac waited patiently.
"Okay, fine, little brother. You win. I'll tell you. But you have to promise not to tell Dad."
"I promise."
"Okay. You know we had alcohol at that party, when Matt was supposed to get the comic book. I was…too drunk, so I threw him in the pool."
"He can't swim!"
"I know, Isaac, just let me tell the story. He wasn't coming up for air so Dad pulled him out and told him not to tell anyone. Then one of the guys…we were all drunk, way too drunk for high schoolers, and one of the guys called him a pussy and wanted to show him what happened to pussies. So…I'm not proud of this, but six of the guys…they were drunk and—"
"Oh, my God," Isaac said as the realization hit him.
"I wasn't one of the guys doing it. But I just sat there and watched as they raped him over and over and…I couldn't have stopped them even if I tried, but I feel like I should've tried. When they were done, he cleaned himself up and ran away, crying."
"Oh, my God," Isaac repeated. He couldn't believe this. Not his brother, he wouldn't do that, and not to Matt. Camden treated Matt like a little brother, ever since they'd been friends. And Matt…he must have just been reliving it. No wonder he'd looked so sick. It made Isaac sick just to think about it.
"You still there?" Camden said.
"Just processing it."
"Don't think too badly of me, little brother. I didn't know what to do."
"And Dad knew about this?"
"Yeah, he was there, he just didn't care."
Isaac felt rage build inside him. His father just sat by as his son's best friend was almost killed and then raped, and blames it on Matt? But he couldn't bring it up to his dad. He didn't want to deal with his dad's anger. So he said goodbye to Camden and called Matt's house phone instead.
"Hello?" Matt said, sounding a lot more stable than he had looked.
"It's Isaac."
"Did you forget something?"
"I know what happened."
Matt gasped slightly. "How—"
"My brother. Matt…I'm sorry."
"No, it wasn't your fault."
"No, but…look, I'm sorry that happened to you." He paused. "I think you should talk to someone."
"No."
"Matt—"
"I said no, Isaac."
"You need to tell someone."
"No, I don't. Okay?" He sounded like he was crying. "I've dealt with it."
"Yeah, okay, so what happened today?"
Matt took a deep breath. "Just leave it alone, okay? I've dealt with it and seeing you just brought it back and I don't want to see you anymore."
"The project—"
"I'll finish it and say we both worked on it. Because I don't want to see you anymore."
"Not again, Matt."
They were silent. Isaac couldn't help thinking about how sorry he felt for Matt, and how much Matt would hate being pitied. But he coudln't help it, he felt sorry for him and wanted to help him.
"Thanks for the comic book," Matt said.
"No problem."
"I still don't want…I can't see you, Isaac. Because it just brings it all back and it hurt so much—"
"Okay. I understand."
"Okay. Bye." He hung up.
Isaac sat staring at his phone for a few minutes afterwards. Half of him wanted to take Matt at his word and accept that he had dealt with it, but the other half knew that wasn't true and wanted to tell someone, anyone, about it. But even after all these years, he was still so loyal to Matt that he knew he would never tell.
