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Revelations

By Patric C. W. Verrone, Contributing Writer

The Other Noah

Other Noah: Peter’s Adam, his first. That first night freshman year: all the quiet, electric anticipation from a summer’s worth of Facebook messaging, culminating in a collision like a cacophonous wave. Losing his virginity had felt to Peter like his ribs were being wrenched apart, like a bird being cracked open down the center to be feasted upon—meat. He was submerged in the serene broth and gravy of the night. Other Noah buoyed him so he wouldn’t sink deeper, or else held his body under the surface. All at once he was exposed. He was a sex person: a person who had sex now. His virginity was somewhere among the shards of shattered bone and bits of torn flesh and plucked feathers. He felt free, yet it seemed a gate had closed. Neurons within his head died and interwove; he had learned a thing.

They fell in love in the inevitable and insufficient way in which two bodies that fold together perfectly often do. For nearly seven months, the Other Noah bubbled up in Peter’s blood, made him feel sick and pressurized, kept him up at night. Then Peter met Noah in the foam and flood, and the atoms in his world began to buzz a little brighter.


Quad Walk

Would Peter walk him to the Quad, Michael’s text inquired. The ArchAngels had been out in Boston the night before. He met Michael in his room. Peter talked to him casually as Michael glacially shuffled to gather his things, sat for a minute, and then shuffled some more. Peter only left to grab Michael some water. This was the first time they’d spoken since he started living in Noah’s room. The awkwardness was surreally comforting to them both. Peter dropped Michael off at the SOCH, made sure he felt alright, and rode the shuttle back.


Sweet Cupcakes

Other Noah licked the cream cheese frosting off the round, red head. “What d’you mean?”

“I don’t know. I just have a thing about birthdays,” Peter mumbled through a generous bite. “I feel like if you miss someone’s birthday, you’re just out of sync with them. They’ve grown without you. So now you two are on, like, separate roads.”

“It’s just a day.”

“I’m not saying it’s logical.”

Other Noah shook his head and stared at Peter. It was Michael’s day, but in the center of the fifth-floor Grays common room, it felt as if it were all theirs.


Candid

Peter happened on Raquel heading back to the room from breakfast. She was dressed in leggings, purple socks, and an old Grays t-shirt. Her head was angled towards the wall as if she were observing something tiresome along the edge of the carpet. The flat hallway lighting illuminated the cascades of gold, cinnamon, and brown curls that hung down from her face.

It reminded Peter of a moment in August, walking through the Yard, when he’d suddenly had the urge to hold Raquel’s hand. How defiant, he’d thought, to so publicly display their platonic affections toward one another. It would have worked only with Raquel. She understood the magic in holding hands. Their eyes met with only three feet of carpet between. They were gaining on each other. She said hello first, grinning.


Formalities

Peter thought it might feel more glamorous fighting in tuxes, but it wasn’t. Peter’s voice still rose higher than he wanted. Noah called him a monster. Peter knew Noah’s roommate could hear them through the walls. He didn’t care. He wasn’t ungrateful. He was trying. If the intensity of the emotions he felt made him monstrous, well…

He returned to his old bed in Paradise. He bumped into Uriel. She liked his new haircut. Had he gotten it for formal?


Fibbage

“Pre-game snack run?” Gabriel shouted, throwing on his coat.

Peter and the ArchAngels flooded into the hallway.

“Stairs or elevator?” Uriel polled. Peter turned and saw Noah and his roommate headed for the elevator.

“Stairs,” Michael suggested. The others agreed. Michael smiled at Peter, sheathing his righteous sword.


Revelations

Other Noah was in his common room, as were the ArchAngels. Michael’s head drooped forward. The room was host to the lethargic chaos of drunks attempting to both keep the party going and care for a fading Michael. Other Noah’s eyes met Peter’s. Lightning flashed in his mind, electrifying his synapses.

“Peter! Where were you?”

“I–”

“Why weren’t you at Michael’s birthday?” he asked. Raquel and Gabriel’s wings tensed. Michael’s birthday was in August. In August, Peter would have been invited.


Freshman Winter

Peter burst out of Canaday. Other Noah’s heart lay shattered on his carpeted floor. Peter wasn’t sure where he was headed.


One Year Later

“Where are you—?”

The closing door silenced Other Noah as Michael was shuffled into the bathroom. Peter was headed to the river.

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