Page 43 of I Can’t Even Think Straight
Dark Humor—Nighttime—My Bedroom
Mum and I agree
seeing the school counselor
is a good idea for me,
and I’ll sign up for
the creative writing workshops.
With that out of the way,
the next topic on my agenda
in this late-night meeting with Mum
is to ask her permission
to go to Obi’s house party this Saturday.
“Matt and Vass are both allowed to go,” I say,
“and Theía Estélla will pick us up
no matter how late the party goes.
But no matter how late I get back,
I promise I’ll be up in time for work.”
Mum looks like she wants to argue.
I think she’s about to impose a curfew,
which I’m already willing to accept
as long as I can go for a few hours.
Mum opens her mouth to speak,
then closes it.
Mum shrugs, then nods.
I try out some dark humor on her.
“Can I please hear some verbal consent?”
I feel guilty when Mum doesn’t smile.
“Yes, you can go to Obi’s party,” she says.
“I trust you to be sensible
και να προσ?χει? τον Βασ?λειο.”
We talked about Vass’s sexual assault recently,
after Theía Estélla told Mum
that Vass had told me.
Mum went to great pains
to make it clear
her previous comment
about my bad judgment
was about school,
and not anything to with
what happened to Vass.
But she went on and on
about the importance of
verbal consent, clear boundaries, and limits.
I didn’t open up to Mum
about how I was feeling at the time
because it was all too confusing.
Since then, I’ve noticed
a combination of three main feelings
coming and going,
like tides of emotion pushing in and
ebbing away again,
with no clear boundary between them:
I’ve felt guilty that I let Vass go off with Adonis;
I’ve felt guilty about my fantasies
before I knew what he’d done to Vass;
I’ve felt upset that Vass isn’t pressing charges; and
I’ve felt fear that it could be me
who is sexually assaulted
by someone similar one day.
Someone handsome, charming, and disarming.
Vass is one of the strongest
and most confident people I know.
I don’t know how I’d handle
what they’ve been through.