[Hold Up- Beyoncé (cover by Kayles Soto)]

THIRTY-SIX: when old wounds are reopened.

Calum Cain was in my bedroom.

My ex-best friend, could've been boyfriend, was standing here right in front of me as if nothing had changed. As if seven years weren't thrown away and we were still those kids on my fourteenth birthday, my fifteenth birthday, my sixteenth and seventeenth, biking with the wind in our faces. The same Calum Cain who had left me bleeding on the ground after jumping me with his friends, that Calum had climbed the side of my house just as he'd been doing for the past four years since we'd gotten in high school.

He was always one for clichés despite the fact that he always considered cliché to be girly and girly was gay. And gay was something that he most definitely was not.

He was very impulsive however so I'd always catch him in the middle of a spontaneous cliché. Calum was staring at me, his hair a mess on top of his forehead. I hadn't looked at him that much since our slip in detention. I hadn't seen him since I'd told him I hated him, Calum's hair had grown out a bit more -it always did grow fast- it was still a bit short but it had grown to that awkward stage between his ears and nonexistent...

And he still looked damn gorgeous. He was still attractive, rugged though, his lips still heart shaped and slightly chapped and his eyes still blue as ever. He looked like the old Calum but it didn't feel comfortable, it didn't feel like home. He wasn't the same and neither was I, I had Paul now. Paul was my home.

Funny how being almost in love could do that to you.

There was a past and a future living and breathing in my house at the same time and Calum Cain was most definitely not the latter.

My voice came out weak, the confusion that my boyfriend had put me in had dissipated, my thoughts were clear of everything except: what the fuck and why the fuck.

"Calum?" It was as if he wasn't really there but maybe I just didn't want him to be really there because him being attainable physically was almost as toxic as dowsing myself in rubbing alcohol and lighting a cigarette.

He wasn't healthy for me anymore and he didn't get that. "Yeah. Listen, I-"

His voice was rushed but mine was too, bordering on disappearing or simply cracking. He was smiling at me, that blue-braced smile and those bright eyes, rage lit inside of me. How could he come here? How could he act like everything was okay? "I really don't want to hear it." "Why'd you think that that was okay? We're not friends anymore, you can't just scale the side of my house."

"... Ian."

The sheets were scrunched beneath my fingers from the bed I hadn't bothered to make that morning. Paul had hounded me about proper hygiene and offered to make it for me -because that was exactly how caring he always was, it would be annoying if I wasn't this into him- but my unmade bed was really the only thing keeping me from snapping. I wanted to throw something, scream, hurt him the way he hurt me.

"Don't."

It almost seemed as if he wanted me to forgive him, as if he expected this to blow over, because the boy in front of me had just furrowed his brows, smile faltering at my monotonous voice. He was never serious so he replied sarcastically, "What am I supposed to do when you keep ignoring me? Send a gift basket?" I was wrong, he was still the same old Calum.

But how could he be the same old Calum and my heart didn't rush or flutter anymore? "You've made my life Hell, Calum!"

"...I realize that I went too far..." Back to never owning up to his mistakes. Normally, I'd have pushed off those mistakes and forgiven him with a quick 'no homo' bro-hug (in which I'd provide all the homo, because, let's be real), he seemed shocked that I stayed put.

"Went too far? I was in the hospital because you can't accept the fact that I'm into guys. Now, you can either leave the same way you came or I'll fucking text everyone..."

"Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." Of course I wasn't but he didn't need to know that. I'd never fuck him over the way he did to me, I'd never destroy his rep like that. I guess a part of me still loved him.

"Hey, there weren't any chips but your dad said we can run to the-" and there was that heart flutter, that head rush, that feeling I only got when Paul walked in the room. He looked great that day, I hadn't had the chance to tell him: his black t-shirt fit him nicely as opposed to his adorable oversized shirts that lost his figure and slid down to reveal his neck and almost his shoulder. But my favorite thing about him had to be that he was wearing my clothing: my sweatpants -that fit me perfectly- were hanging off his slender hips and I could see slight definition on the v heading into his boxers.

I'd never really been self-conscious about my weight but Paul had a way of looking perfect at all times and it really wasn't fucking fair. My boyfriend was smiling straight at me when he'd walked in, keys swinging on his index finger, that was until he noticed the third male in my room and his smile turned more confused but never less friendly,  "oh, um, hi?"

Calum, however, kept himself closed off, not even sparing Paul a glance that wasn't buried in a glare. His voice was kind of angry and that made me angry. What was with people thinking that they could treat Paul like shit? "Who's this?"

I hadn't gotten a chance to respond, showing my anger, because Paul -level-headed as can be- had cut in. "I'm Paul," He looked as if he wanted to offer his hand in a shake but had thought better of it. "Who are you?"

"This is Calum." It was the first time I'd spoken since they were both in the same room and the tension was thicker than Brandon's dick, you know by Rilee's calculations.

Somewhere along the line of me somewhat introducing them and my boyfriend realizing who exactly he was (took about five minutes), his face had morphed into one of pure anger and his eyes had cut over to Calum who was looking at him as if he didn't know why he was so significant to Paul and so up on his hate list. Excuse me, strongly dislike list, Paul didn't hate anyone.

"This is... The guy that?" After my nod of approval, my boyfriend had all the information he needed to step in front of my bed as if he shielding me from the past hurt. I was still sitting helplessly on my bed but he hadn't commented on that. My lack of balls was really starting to frustrate me, "Get out."

"You can't tell me what to do." Despite not knowing what was going on, Calum got confrontational... that was how he was.

And in the lowest voice I'd ever heard Paul speak, he crossed his arms, veins popping out as he clenched his jaw tightly. If I wasn't so worried, I'd be thinking about how fucking hot he was when he was pissed. "Alright, listen, I have little patience for you as it is but I'll be generous and give you two options: get the fuck out of this house willingly or be dragged out by the paramedics."

Oh no, oh no, oh fuck no.

"I'd like to see you try and do shit to me, fuckin-"

Paul, although taller than Calum, was way less intimidating to me. He was easier to remind of his morals and easy to calm. He wasn't an advocate of violence so I knew I had to stop this before he regretted it. Calum had stepped closer until they were toe to toe, his eyes burning as he felt his masculinity was being challenged, Go, Calum."

It was as if the boy in question was shocked to hear me speak, stepping away from my protective boyfriend and cutting his eyes over at me. It seemed to be forever, probably only a couple of minutes, before he sighed. "Alright, I'll go. Just..." Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he transferred his gaze to my bedspread, "please don't tell anyone."

"Don't tell anyone what?" My boyfriend interjected, eyebrows furrowing as he turned to look at me, anger dissolving.

"None of your business, Hulk."

Paul and I had both been irritated, m eye rolling at Calum's statement only to catch Paul rolling his after and tilting his head as if he were amused. "It is my business when it involves my boyfriend."

My ex-best friend had choked, eyes going wide as he looked to me for an explanation, "Boyfriend? You're seeing him?" He sounded bitter, as if I had betrayed him somehow, and that pissed me off, "I thought you were fucking around with that Baker kid."

Andy.

I was freaking out inside, freaking out until I'd realized that Paul knew Andy and I were just friends and people thought we were dating...

Still I felt guilty at the fact that Paul defended me and still didn't know we kissed.

Before I could angrily sputter out a reply, Paul had beaten me to it, "Why does it matter? You had your chance and you lost it."

I could feel Calum's gaze on the side of my face, hurt in his voice, but my eyes centered on my sheets and I refused to break my stare. I was in love with Calum before but definitely not now and he had to get the hint soon. "Julian?"

"Goodbye, Calum." My tone was clipped, voice chopped into four syllables of no emotion.

And his voice was rushed and he sounded pained and I could basically hear him rationalizing and justifying in his head, "No. I know you're mad but I-I didn't mean it." His footsteps got closer but Paul must've blocked him because he's backed up as soon as his dirty old adidas classics were in my view, "Look at me, I know what I did was selfish and stupid and I don't expect you to forgive me but... Ijustwantyoutoknow that everything I did, everything, I regret it completely and 'M-I'm sorry, okay? I'm so sorry, I never meant for it to go that far."

My mind was turning him back into Calum from four years ago.

I'd remembered the day he'd bought those shoes, I'd bought a pair but always kept mine clean, I didn't like dirty shoes, especially white ones. We'd bought them together. He'd been looking through the shoes in footlocker, ready to splurge but only had enough money for the basics.

And he suggested we get those because he didn't have white shoes and he wanted to match with me and me being fourteen with the biggest crush, I'd felt special. I'd agreed to get them even though I'd only had enough money in my pocket for food.

I'd used my dad's card for emergencies because seeing Calum smile was kind of an emergency... he was kind of the coolest person I knew and my only friend and I kind of wanted to be more but I wasn't sure what more was and he was perfect and everything I wanted to be but maybe everything I wanted to be with, I couldn't see anyone but him and I'd just been so in awe. And when we'd checked out, he hadn't stopped flashing his slightly crooked teeth.

He was happy because that was his first purchase on his own and I'd returned his toothy, innocent pubescent smile just for the hell of it because there was nothing to really be excited about but... But he was so important to me that if we were standing in quicksand, almost under, I'd smile because it was with him.

"You're sorry? You beat him half to fucking death!"

I was pulled out of my memory with Paul's yelling. His eyes were cut into slits when I'd looked up, the boy in front of him looking the same as four years ago and then not looking the same and then I couldn't recognize him and then... And then he was staring at his shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. I used to look at him like that.

"Paul..."

I didn't know what I was saying, I didn't know why I was cutting in but I wanted him to calm down. It was stupid of me to still try and defend Calum, I know, but I didn't always make the best decisions.

At my choice to speak, both sets of eyes were in me and Paul looked disappointed. "What? If he cared about you at all, he wouldn't have hit you!"

The blond boy's voice was weak, almost as if he didn't know what else to say and I felt kind of bad for everything. "I had to, alright? They threatened my spot on the team. Jules, you know how my dad is."

Calum's dad never really was one for affection, everyone knew that, the only time he'd talk to his son would be about football. He'd told Calum that emotions were for the weak which ended in Calum getting in his emotions and crying at night -after asking me to spend the night- when he thought I couldn't hear him from the bottom of the bed. If I ever brought it up, her push it off with a joking 'my dad just hates me' or 'he's just an asshole.' I knew that was how he really felt, safe to say, I never really liked his dad.

But that wasn't an excuse and I'd been making too many excuses for him and Paul looked upset and I couldn't really breathe when I shook my head violently, "Please go, Calum."

"Jules-"

"Get out." I couldn't breathe, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't let anyone see me like this except for Paul, Paul wouldn't judge me.

"You don't mean that."

Knowing me better than I knew myself, Paul's eyes went wide, he reached for my hand, gently tangling his fingers with mine before kissing my for head and letting go. Making his way back over to Calum, he tried to calm down, "He meant it. Just leave, man."

"Look, would you just shut the fuck up?"

It was getting harder to stay quiet, biting on the back of my hand to calm myself down, I hoped Paul would just hold me.

I needed him to hold me.

"Get out!" I'd been able to tell but it came out as a whisper, my voice cracking harshly with my rapid breathing.

It started as a tingle up my legs and a clog in my throat and then everything had happened at once.

My legs went numb, my body rigid, tremors had wracked up and down my body and I couldn't see straight. I'd managed to stay almost silent but I was crying, at least, that was what my body was telling me and I tried to move and more tears had made their way down my cheeks. I was having a heart attack, I told myself, I was gonna die and it would all be over.

Dying seemed better than having to look at the boy who caused all of this.

But then again, I wasn't quite sure if that boy was me.

There was a tension in my bones and it felt as if my heart would collapse. My heart would collapse. My heart was collapsing. That rapid pulse in my ears and my blurred vision, able to make out only my own white knuckles in front of me as I clutched myself.

Blood was dotting along my kneecap and my lip as I tore the skin, my eyes focusing in and out. I was never able to sleep in more than boxers and a simple t-shirt, goosebumps erupting in small mountains along my freckled thighs and arms, at least I'd be ready if I were to pass out from loss of oxygen.

I felt hands on mine.

They were firm and slightly calloused, pulling my iron-like grip off and unfolding my body. I was still numb when I'd been buried in Paul.

His arms were tight around me as he whispered soothing things in my ears. I'd kept my teeth clamped on my bottom lip, my eyes screwing shut as I tried to slow my breathing. Slowly, my senses were coming back, "Julian, calm down." This one wasn't that long, my lips only tingling as opposed to becoming numb but the more I struggled to return to the present, the harder it got. I was sweating but I was cold, I was crying but I felt dehydrated, I was silent but my mind and my bones were screaming.

I felt liquid in my ears, numbness in my palms, desolation clawing at my throat but I suppressed it, clutching onto Paul's shoulders and shaking as he ran soothing hands through my hair and down my spine and back up and then to my cheeks to push unwanted years away only for them to be replaced my fresh ones. I'd attempted to count as they did in the movies but that only made me breathe harder, hiccuping in time with my lost breaths.

"What's- What's wrong with him?" Just the sound of that voice had triggered me, just the sound of his voice sent a sob ripping through my throat and burning like acid coming up. He was my poison.

"Panic attack, idiot." Pulling away from me, Paul stilled my shaking hands and I was able to focus on his eyes. They looked even more brown that day, small chocolate pools. His lips were speaking softly, words that I was sure were only meant for me but I couldn't help but focus on his eyes, wide as if he were afraid, I could see my disheveled reflection with how glazed over they were and I was hoping that wasn't how he saw me.

I held my hand to my mouth to suppress the sounds, "I need you to calm down, Julian, long breaths."

This was pathetic; I was pathetic. "Baby, it's okay, alright? You're okay. Breathe."

I couldn't. There was a weight sitting on my chest and I probably looked crazy, pushing at my own skin, my own shirt and pulling it harshly away from my body. I was shaking as I yanked it off my torso, still trying to let longer puffs of air to my lungs. Paul didn't seemed shocked, holding my clammy skin and rubbing my back as if he knew what to do. "Paul, I can't- I can't-"

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay, you're doing so good." I think the softness in his eyes was what brought me back and as soon as he'd gotten me down to a less harmful heart rate, he'd pecked my lips gently. "Doing so good, breathe."

I was shaking, I was hot and I was cold and I was exposed but I paid no mind to Calum in the corner. Paul was perfect as he picked my shirt back up from the floor where it had landed and over to my dresser to get some basketball shorts. "You cold baby?"

I wanted to say no but my shivers had given it away.

"Come on, it's okay, you can wash up after if you like." But despite how uncomfortable my body felt, I'd shaken my head. My skin was sticky and my eyes were bloodshot and my nose was stuffy from crying and I hated it. Paul had to help me stand on my own two legs, them wobbling underneath me.

"Is he okay?" I was drained, too drained to react to Calum's voice and Paul must've noticed because he'd gripped me tighter, helping me pull some shorts on.

"He's fine."

And when I caught the feeling back in my legs, I'd gently pushed my boyfriend away when he'd came closer with my shirt. I just needed to get out of there and he knew, he always knew. "Come on, let's get some air, okay? Do you need something?" And when I'd shaken my head away, he walked with me to the door, I couldn't be here.

Hand in mine, he stepped out with me, door shutting behind him,

All of a sudden it felt like air was rushing back, full force, I coughed a bit. Tension was seeping from my bones now, dissipating.

"Jules." I didn't speak but my eyes met his brown ones, deep with concern. "Go wash your face, okay? We can go for a walk."

Calum. "But-"

"I got it." He was nodding, understanding when I'd cut myself off. Leaning forward, he kissed my lips again, gently. "I got you, I promise."

There were tear streaks on my face and I was so fucking embarrassed. I wasn't twelve, I was eighteen and my boyfriend had to fight my battles.

"Baby." He was brushing his nose against mine, placing another kiss on my lips. "Go wash your face and wait for me, alright?"

I nodded taking a step back. And he was opening my room door again, entering.

I leant against the wall, eyes shut. I hated how weak I felt. Paul probably felt like a goddamn caretaker.

He didn't close the door, he cracked it to the point where I could still hear him and I wasn't sure if I wanted to.

"Listen, he loved you, yeah. And you eradicated all possibility of