The wind was warm, smelled of rain as if it had just stopped. Two boys rode side by side along the narrow road that ran through the outskirts of town.
One had a face that looked quiet and calm, and his hands were so slender that when he held a cigarette, it looked like a scene from a black-and-white film about French models. — his lashes were long, his hair was red, but not a natural red; more of a faded crimson, dyed some time ago. His hair fell in layers onto his cheeks, like the feathers of a pillow.
The other was his opposite: light, tousled hair falling over his eyes, a contrast to the dark, fluid hair of the first.
His eyes were a deep green, his lashes as long as his companion's…
"I told you you wouldn't catch me," Tobias laughed, dark-haired, rising on the pedals and pushing harder.
"Don't fucking lie!" Simon snapped, fair-haired, bending over the handlebars.
They were approaching the intersection with a side street. Parked cars lined the right-hand side, blocking the view. Tobias glanced back over his shoulder.
"Nothing's coming, you can go!" he called with a smile, as if he were simply enjoying the moment.
Simon was about to answer when he heard something else.
The roar of an engine…
He also saw something his friend didn't — of course his friend was not the car that was hurtling toward him.
A silver car shot out from behind a parked van. It didn't slow. The driver seemed not to see them.
"SIMON, WATCH OUT!" Tobias screamed.
Everything happened in a fraction of a second, like a single blink.
Simon only managed to lift his head. He saw the hood of the car, the glare of a headlight, and the innocent, stupid, terrified face of the driver. He tried to turn, the wheel shook under him… He couldn't make it.
The impact was dull and brutal.
The bike crumpled like a crushed sheet of paper.
Silence lasted a second.
Then a scream.
---
Tobias woke with a single motion, launching forward with terror…
His heart hammered hard, his breathing was fast as if he'd just run a twenty-kilometre marathon.
For a moment he lay still, recovering…
His hands trembled, the hair on his legs stood on end, and he was soaked with sweat.
He got out of bed without hurry, still nervous, and went to the nightstand. On it lay… a silvery chain, a hair clip, and a ring.
He put on the chain first, then the ring on the index finger of his right hand, and finally clipped his hair back.
In the kitchen the tap water tasted metallic and fresh…
He went into the bathroom and looked himself straight in the eyes: brown irises, hair still damp from the night, eyelashes stuck together.
---
Tobias sat on the edge of the armchair with his hands clasped, the index finger of his right hand repeatedly brushing the silver ring.
The psychologist watched him calmly over her notebook.
She was, in appearance, the sort of person you could easily overlook.
Quite pretty, fairly young, but only that. An ordinary woman.
Slim, almost delicate, with a naturally calm face — it would be difficult to imagine any expression other than calmness on it — and rather gentle features.
She had blue eyes. Her hair was always neatly arranged: straight, light brown, pulled back low, and she wore glasses.
A gray sweater and black denim trousers.
"Same dream?" she asked.
Tobias snorted quietly.
"The answer is obvious… isn't it?"
"How often do you have it?"
"Almost every day." He shrugged. "Sometimes there are small differences. I noticed that when something differs, I wake up right away… I feel watched, I hide under the covers in fear, then I fall asleep and dream of beautiful women… Later, when we're about to get to the point, they bite my legs off, and I wake up again, just as terrified."
"And today?"
He was silent for a moment.
"Today it was normal."
The psychologist put down her pen.
"Will you tell me what you saw?"
"Everything." He laughed shortly. "I don't remember much…" He paused. "Maybe except his eyes." he finished. "His green eyes. That damned smile, how he raced me. He shouldn't be laughing…"
He clenched his fingers harder.
"And the moment I turn around."
"What do you feel at that moment in the dream? When you turn around?"
"Excitement." He answered after a moment's thought. "I'm sure nothing's coming. I feel like I'm having the best time of my life… and then I see the car hit him."
"Tobias… do you think you are to blame?"
He looked at her for a moment and laughed out loud.
"Sorry… I prefer to vent."
"I asked if you feel guilty."
Silence stretched.
"No."
"And when you dream."
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters."
"If I hadn't turned… if I'd just gone first… those thoughts terrify me, Ms. Wenkins."
"Tobias."
He fell silent.
"An accident is an event. Not the decision of one person." Her voice was stoically calm. "Did you have control over the car?"
"Of course not."
"Over the driver?"
"Same answer."
"So what did you have control over?"
He stared at the woman for a long time.
"That I told him he could go."
"So you think it's your fault?"
"For some questions I can't answer with a simple yes or no."
He frowned.
---
Tobias woke… calmly. He got up… he wasn't sweaty, he was completely calm.
He rose, tidied himself, turned on the TV…
That's how his day was supposed to go.
Until suddenly…
There was a soft knock at the door. Tobias got up from the couch, walked to the door, peered through the peephole and saw someone familiar…
Not very tall, slim, wearing an oversized white jacket… and those green eyes.
Tobias frowned.
"Who is it?" he asked.
"Tobias?" came the familiar voice.
The door opened slowly. Simon stood in the doorway.
"Simon?" he breathed.
Simon stepped inside and stood frozen, looking at Tobias.
"It's been a long time… we haven't talked…" he finally said after a long pause. "Sorry." The two exchanged a look.
"I hadn't heard from you in four months… what did you think I—" He didn't finish because Simon cut him off.
"I didn't want—" he began quietly. "I didn't want it to look like that. I had no choice. At the hospital they said I might lose my leg. We had a choice: surgery, rehab, and then… I had to rest for a long time, I'd had enough stress."
"Why didn't you warn me?"
"…I nearly became disabled, I already had so much stress!" he snapped at last. "I couldn't… I wasn't able to do anything." he admitted.
---
Tobias sat again in Ms. Wenkins's armchair… leaning forward and deeply thoughtful.
"What are you thinking about, Tobias?" she asked after a long silence.
"…Simon is alive…" he muttered under his breath.
"I'm sorry?" she asked.
"Simon isn't dead." he repeated, now more clearly.
The room grew even quieter.
"What makes you think that?" she asked calmly.
Tobias snorted softly.
"Because I saw him."
"In a dream?"
"Nah." He shook his head. "Yesterday. He came to my house and watched movies with me."
"Go on."
"Someone knocked on my door, I looked through the peephole, and I see… Simon. I thought I was dreaming, but I wasn't!" he told her with wide eyes.
"Did you notice any changes…? In his appearance, character, or the like?"
Silence.
"No. He was whole and healthy."
"Did you ask him how he survived?"
"Yes… He said he only broke his leg, but now he's all right, and he hadn't been at school because he didn't want to walk in that state… I had no contact with him."
Ms. Wenkins put her notebook on the table.
"Tobias… is it possible you saw someone who looked similar?"
His gaze went sharp.
"No." He answered immediately. "Don't make a fool of me, I know what Simon looks like!"
"Four months have passed."
"That doesn't matter." His voice cracked. "Do you think I wouldn't recognize him? After all those dreams?"
"What did you feel when you saw him?"
Tobias closed his eyes.
"Anger…"
The word hung between them like a knife at the throat.
"Not fear?" she asked.
"No." He shook his head. "Anger. As if someone had hit me full force with a fist in the face and tried to rob me… More or less that feeling."
"So if Simon is alive…" she began cautiously, "…then the accident didn't end in death?"
"Exactly." He raised his head. "Maybe his parents didn't want me to know."
"Tobias, did you go to the funeral?"
He froze.
His fingers stopped moving on the ring.
"No. But that's because his family is old-fashioned… they don't want official funerals, and so on."
"I understand."
"Everything after the accident… I remember nothing… I know there was a hospital. I know I was interrogated. I know his parents looked at me as if I had killed him."
---
Tobias had his hands in his pockets, his hair tied back… he stood by the trash bin, rested his head against the wall, and lit a cigarette.
"Aren't you afraid?" Simon asked. "We're seventeen — what if someone from school… you know, a teacher or something… catches us?" he added.
"No." Tobias answered shortly with little concern.
"Are you sure?... Maybe go smoke inside, in the bathroom…" Simon asked, nervously playing with his sleeve.
"Why are you so nervous…?" Tobias asked, irritated. "We're seeing each other for the first time in… four months… you never had this problem." He stepped slowly toward Simon.
"I'm… just unaccustomed to leaving the house and being around people. I was in confinement for a few months."
Tobias sighed.
"Fine, I'll take your word for it."
"Where do you want to sit? Middle or sides?" Tobias asked, stubbing out his cigarette on his sleeve.
"Middle," Simon replied automatically.
They bought tickets, grabbed a bucket of popcorn and a cola, went into the theater, sat comfortably next to each other… and the screening began.
Half an hour passed.
On the screen a couple appeared… a boy walked hand in hand with a girl, a normal scene from an ordinary romance… except they weren't watching a romance but a horror.
Tobias wasn't particularly moved.
"Wow… nothing's happening, this movie is boring. I'll fall asleep here." he thought and yawned. "I wonder what Simon thinks." he wondered, turned his head to look at Simon, and he… was crying.
"Huh?" Tobias blurted, confused. "What's wrong with you?... I've never seen you cry at a film… especially not at this shit…" he whispered to his friend.
"I can't describe it… I feel like something is stabbing my heart and gnawing at it like an apple."
"Fuck… right now I feel like a robot…"
"Don't be hard on yourself."
---
After the film they sat in a café…
"Why were you crying, especially… at something like that?" Tobias asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"I think… it moved me that two people loved each other, were close, and I felt their level of intimacy inside me… until suddenly I remembered that they'll die at the end…" he said in a quiet tone.
"Seriously, you felt sorry for some poorly acted characters from such a shitty film?" he asked, tilting his head.
"Yes."
Tobias chuckled under his breath.
"Want me to introduce you to some girl? You're not the ugliest… surely there's someone who'd want you." he said with a grin.
"No, no… I want to achieve something on my own."
"I get it, I get it. Your choice… just don't complain later that I didn't do anything for you." he replied with a chuckle.
"I think… being alone, being by yourself, is one of the worst things." Simon declared. "Lately I've been thinking more about myself…"
"And what conclusions have you reached?" Tobias asked.
"I feel like something that should've been thrown out a long time ago but got stuck at the back of the fridge," Simon said suddenly, without taking his eyes off Tobias.
Tobias raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Nothing. It's just… they look at you and see that you're whole. But you know that under the skin everything has already rotted. And the worst part isn't that you're rotting. The worst part is that you're waiting for someone to finally open you and smell it, so you wouldn't have to take it anymore. But nobody does. They just look at the packaging."
"Wow… I didn't expect such musings and comparisons from you." Tobias answered, astonished.
---
Tobias sat still hunched over, but this time not fidgeting with the ring; he was back in the office.
"Tell me once more about what happened after the film," Ms. Wenkins said.
"We got off the bus, I wanted to smoke and grab something to eat so we went to a café. Simon seemed a bit stiff, like every movement cost him effort. He spoke quietly. He tried to joke but was awkward…" He paused, swallowing. "I also noticed he cried during the film, and before the film he was fearful… I'd never seen him terrified or crying. He was always arrogant and confident."
"What did you feel when you saw him crying?" the psychologist asked.
"Kind of like looking at a wounded dog… I felt a bit saddened by his behaviour, and I felt sorry for him. And after a while I felt sick." he answered. "But it was strange," he added after a moment.
"And then what did you do?" she asked.
"Nothing sensible," Tobias admitted. "I didn't consider doing anything necessary."
"Did you notice anything wrong with yourself?"
"Nothing... I don't want a boring or peaceful life… I feel a little annoyed because I had to go through hardships when I could have lived normally and peacefully, while he just lay at home for four months."
Tobias pressed his fingers together.
---
Tobias and Simon sat on a bench outside the mall entrance…
"I have a serious question for you…" Tobias said.
"Yes?"
"There's no way you're the real Simon… Tell me who you are." Tobias said gravely.
Simon looked uneasy… and laughed loudly.
Tobias grabbed Simon's hand… it was cold, almost icy.
"I'm serious. Tell me who you are, or I'll strangle you." he added, and Simon stepped back slightly.
"What kind of question is that… It's obvious it's really me, you idiot!" Simon replied, irritated, and then clenched his fists.
"You never behaved like this… You're afraid of everything, you cry at the drop of a hat, you say things to me I'd never think you'd think… you're not the Simon I knew, you swindler!" he shouted.
"Are you high?" Simon asked.
"…What kind of question is that, obviously not!" Tobias replied, raising his voice to a shout.
---
Tobias sat stiffly… back in the office.
Ms. Wenkins watched.
"And then what happened?" she asked.
"Nothing." He shrugged. "I stood up and left. I wanted to get a drink, but each of my friends was busy."
"Were you afraid of him?"
"No." The answer came too quickly. "I was more afraid I'd do something to him and get into trouble."
Silence.
"What are you afraid of?"
"In what sense?"
"What do you think your greatest fears are…"
She asked, then stood up.
"That I will live a lie… I don't want anything to disturb my peace, I don't like when something annoys me."
"You killed him, Tobias."
An awkward silence fell.
"Excuse me?" Tobias asked, bewildered.
Ms. Wenkins's body was suddenly covered in hair and fur… an axe appeared in her hand.
Ms. Wenkins swung the axe, but Tobias sprang from the chair in time…
Tobias ran to the door, tried to open it… but it was locked.
He turned around, and his head had already fallen to the floor.
…Tobias woke up, his heart pounding like never before.
"Again…?" he asked, breathing heavily.
---
Tobias sat on the edge of the bed with his phone in his hand, the screen lighting up his whole face, contrasting with the darkness of the room.
He swiped through conversations until he stopped and went back.
He opened the conversation with Simon. The texts were shorter than he remembered. Each message was about half as long. He scrolled further, searched for dates, times. Until he came across that one message: "Race after I eat dinner?"
"Why was I even looking for this?" he asked himself.
Then memories came over him.
"You smoke?" Simon asked, standing on the low wall.
"No." Tobias replied.
Simon handed him a pack.
They exchanged glances.
"So what are you looking at? Take one, don't be shy."
Tobias frowned and took one from the pack.
"Come closer, I won't waste my lighter on a novice."
Tobias snorted but stepped forward. He stopped so close that the tips of their shoes almost touched.
Simon leaned his hip against the low wall, lit his cigarette with a lighter.
"I always like the sight of fire… it has beautiful shades." Simon said thoughtfully, then took a drag — "move closer, don't be shy." he murmured.
Tobias lifted his gaze.
He leaned in a little, placing the cigarette between his lips. Simon leaned slightly toward him.
The ember passed from one to the other. Tobias inhaled reflexively — too hard. The cigarette flared, smoke invaded his lungs.
He choked a little.
Simon pulled away first, with a wide smile.
"Relax, we're not racing to see who gets lung cancer first, we're enjoying the moment."
Tobias coughed, trying to regain his composure.
This time Tobias took a cautious drag.
---
The office smelled of coffee and the yogurt Tobias had brought.
He stared at the floor.
"I dreamed again — another nightmare." he said. "Shit with mycelium…"
"Which part?"
"Surprisingly, I've never had this dream. It's new." He looked up. "I'm proud of how creative my dreams are."
"What was in that dream?"
"I was sitting and talking with you, and suddenly you stood up, you turned into some fucked-up monster, you had an axe in your hand, and you told me I had killed Simon, and then you cut my head off."
Silence.
"Wow…" Ms. Wenkins was astonished.
"I'm surprised too." He smiled crookedly.
"And what did you feel?"
"I was absolutely terrified."
"Did anyone tell you outright that Simon had died?"
"No." He replied. "It just seemed logical to me, because I remember blood pouring from his head, and he looked dead when I called the ambulance. He wasn't breathing. He wasn't doing anything… I don't know how they revived him."
"So what do you know for sure?"
"That I know nothing."
"Is that proof of death?"
"That was enough for me."
"For whom?"
"For me."
"Why?"
"It was the most logical version of events for me. Plus it's easier to live with guilt for a death than with the thought that I bored someone to death."
"Call him in front of me."
"Now?"
"Yes."
He took out his phone.
He opened the chat and again saw the same message as before: "Race after I eat dinner?"
His finger hovered over the call icon.
He pressed the phone to his ear.
---
Tobias sat on the school roof… it was raining and he smoked, leaning against the rooftop door. The raindrops drummed, and that sound was relaxing to Tobias. He stood at the railings, soaking wet; Simon stood nearby.
"Simon?" Tobias called. "You'll get sick, come here!" he added.
"I wanted to come and look at the school, I haven't been here for four months…" Simon answered pensively. "I actually got here because of you… I thought about leaving the hospital and reaching out after the first two days, but I was too ashamed."
They sat on the school roof. The evening was colder than before, the wind tugged at their sleeves as if it wanted to push them off the edge.
Simon sat closer to the railing. Tobias a little further away.
"Do you ever think about death?" Simon asked suddenly.
Tobias snorted.
"Like everyone."
"Not that kind of death." Simon stared at the car lights. "The kind that has already happened."
Tobias glanced at him from the corner of his eye.
"Huh?"
Simon smiled faintly.
"I think death is… quite relative."
"What would you do knowing you will die, or that you have died?" Tobias spoke up. "Personally… I think I'd set myself some absurd goal. Fuck a hundred women in two days, drink vodka straight from the bottle, something like that."
Simon tilted his head.
"I... I'd like to go for a bike ride."
"Ambitious."
"And what do you think the meaning of life is?"
"Uhmm… I don't really know. I'm not great at thinking about such things, "he replied.
Simon laughed quietly.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, nothing."
"Okay?"
"Remember that time after classes?" Simon asked suddenly. "When some jerks from the year below cornered us? You wanted to scare them off, but they had knives and we had to run... we didn't realise they were toy knives."
"Well... at least I wanted to protect us."
"Those memories always amuse me," Simon said. "Spending time with you is hard work... I started treating you more like a hobby than a friend, which is probably why I felt so isolated."
"Damn, it's cold here," Tobias said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He didn't step any closer. He was afraid a gust might knock him over.
Simon didn't turn his head.
"Do you think down there, under the wheels… it was this cold too?" he asked.
"What? How would I know?" Tobias snarled. "Stop talking about it. That was four months ago. You're here, right?" He added, "Did you come here just to reminisce?"
"I came to say goodbye."
Simon finally glanced back at him over his shoulder.
Tobias felt his stomach tighten.
"Don't talk nonsense. Come on, let's go. The janitor's going to catch us any second."
Simon gave a crooked smile.
"Sometimes I feel like I never actually left that hospital. Like you just… made me up, because you didn't know what to do with yourself."
Tobias looked at him for a long moment. Simon reached out his hand, and when he took it it was ice-cold.
"Thanks for everything," Simon muttered, trying to hide the tremor in his voice
Before Tobias had time to respond, Simon took a step. He simply shifted his weight forward, as if gravity had suddenly called to him.
Tobias didn't think. He lunged, his knees scraping against the rough concrete, fingers digging into the fabric of Simon's jacket. He yanked him back with all his strength until they both slammed onto the roof.
They collided bone against bone. Simon groaned; Tobias could feel he'd torn the skin on his hands.
"Let me go!" Simon started thrashing, kicking his legs, elbowing Tobias in the ribs. "Let me finish this! What's the point of me living if, according to you, I'm already gone anyway?!"
Tobias pinned him to the concrete, panting straight into his face. He was furious. He didn't feel sorry for him. He felt pure, primal rage that Simon wanted to take away the only thing keeping him upright.
"Shut up!" Tobias yelled, pressing his forearm against Simon's throat. "I don't care what you feel or whether you want to be here. I still need you! I can't manage without you!"
Simon went still. He stopped fighting. He looked at Tobias with fear, and Tobias let him go slowly, shaking with emotion. He sat down on the concrete and spat.
"Get up. We're going downstairs. I need a smoke."
–––
The same smell of coffee. The same chair. Everything was the same.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Normal."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
The psychologist nodded.
"All right. Let's try another way. How was the week?"
"Simon went back to school."
"And?"
"Nothing. He's there. He walks. He breathes. He functions."
"And you?"
"I also walk, breathe and function... Pretty logical."
He sighed.
Tobias was silent for a moment.
"I don't know what I believe anymore."
The psychologist tilted her head slightly.
"Progress."
Tobias looked at her sideways.
"What?"
"Earlier you were certain of your conclusions, and you answered without so much thought."
"That's not progress. You're misdefining it."
Silence.
Tobias looked away.
"I saw him yesterday."
"Where?
"I went for a smoke on the school roof, it looked nice, it's good for thinking."
"What was he doing?"
"...We talked for a bit, he got nostalgic, and... he tried to kill himself but I ran fast enough and caught him."
Tobias frowned.
He hesitated.
"What happened next?" she asked calmly.
"We stopped, and then for a few hours he behaved differently. He was strangely cold, there was a chill about him for miles, he didn't react, and I felt like I was supposed to be to blame for everything... And that's how I felt."
"You talk about guilt... Do you think it still gives you peace? Do you still think that by blaming yourself you'd handle it better than by Simon leaving you?"
"I don't know," he whispered. "I'm afraid that if I stop thinking that way, I'll... stop being myself, lose a piece of me and become boring and soft too."
–––
The door opened quietly.
"Goodbye, Tobias."
He looked at her for a long time.
"Goodbye"
The door closed.
Tobias stood motionless.
After a moment he reached for his phone, and a notification came in with a new message from Simon:
"Race me after I eat dinner?"