Page 35 of All That Remains
"Fookin’helmethair," Rome laughed until he coughed, remembering Levi's awful fringe. "You looked like...like a fookin’ woman, yeah?"
"Like aKaren..."
"Bieber hair," I added with a grin.
"Screw the lot of you!" Levi swore, launching marshmallows at us from the near-empty bag.
***
Rome didn't say much, but I clocked everything about him, because he intrigued me like no other. Science fiction and poetry and philosophical works filled his luggage. He even looked through my dad's shelves until he found something of interest, which was a book on Catholicism. According to him, the iconography was sick. I asked if he had read all the Harry Potters since he’d brought two with him to the house, and he said he had. He gave me the first and third books to read, since they were the only ones he had on him at the time.
His musical tastes were vastly different from ours, which was exciting because I loved interrogating people about their favorite artists and top ten songs of all time. I could recall sifting through a box of his old mixes and CDs at his mum's house just months before we headed to the bungalow in autumn.Leeds.I was mad for that place. Mad for the boy it had birthed. He and I had spent so many weekends exploring its old quarters and ethnic hubs, mapping every square mile of that place year after year. For me, it was like a homecoming, and I longed to be there now. I hadn't seen his parents or sisters since 2015, and that was a shame.
One of the best evenings of my life had been spent in their home in the dead of summer. His place always smelled like hearty food, scented candles, and women's cologne. Women ran that house. His mum, his sisters, tons of female cousins, and the army of aunts who he lovingly called hisziettas. Everyone liked to accumulate in his yard after the band took off and Rome had become known around the neighborhood as‘the one who made it out.’Everyone gravitated toward him then, a local hero whoquickly overshadowed the decorated WWII veteran down the road. The old man who yelled at kids for bouncing basketballs on the pavement outside his window.
His family always treated me warmly, as if I were their own. I was at ease among them, despite being miles from all familiarity and surrounded by peculiar accents that bordered on dialects. To visit his home was to enter another world entirely, one of urban enchantment, new cultures, incredible cuisine, and religiosity. I missed them dearly as the years flew by, almost as much as I missed the sound of his voice or his footsteps outside my hotel room door.
On my first visit in the summer of 2011, when we’d grown a bit closer, Rome took me around to all his favorite haunts, like the fish and chips spot around the corner, his favorite convenience store, the used bookstore he liked to get lost in, and finally the local gym where he’d learned to spar with pro-boxers. They’d even given him a summer job before he got sucked into the world of music, never to be released again.
Later that day on my, we ventured back to his place through the golden hour; baptized by a light drizzle that darkened the streets. We listened to music all night on the floor in his room, making up a coordinated dance to Rick Springfield's "Jessie's Girl" and staring nervously into each other's eyes. Alternatively, he was teaching me to draw, or we were discussing our progress of learning the guitar. Longing to stay the night, I said goodbye when my ride came and rode over an hour back home. He never once left my mind.
Staying at the bungalow with him and the others reminded me of our days at the academy, where he compulsively brushed his teeth before every show and was self-conscious about using the toilet with us nearby. In those days, he smiled a lot with his entire face—cheeks, chin, eyes. Sometimes accompanied by abreathy, mellifluous laugh. But he was also notoriously moody, and we learned straightaway he was not to be tested.
The bungalow only offered two bedrooms. The master housed a king-sized bed that could fit two, with room enough for an air mattress for a third body. The second room held a double bed which would fit two, although it was a tight squeeze, and no additional room for an inflatable mattress. Since all of us were too chicken shit to sleep alone in the living room on the ground floor, we decided to make do, meaning two of us would have to share the smaller bed. There were major pros and cons to sleeping in each room. The master suite had the only other working telly in the house, apart from the one in the lounge, but the second room offered the more tranquil sleeping arrangement.
I settled for sleeping in the second bedroom since I was used to rooming there whenever I visited, and the boys decided to playrock-paper-scissorsto see who’d get stuck with me in the room with no telly. Nathan lost, so we spent one night together before he got fed up and said I fidgeted too much in my sleep. He forfeited his spot the next morning, rattling off a long list of protests against rooming with the likes of me. Without hesitation, Rome stepped up to replace him.
"I won’t mind," he volunteered, ignoring Nathan who cautioned him against what he was getting himself into.
I was shocked, since I thought I’d annoyed him on the trip. He had barely spoken two words to me.
“Sure about that?” I asked.
"Yeah, no big deal. I'm used to your snorin’ by now anyway, Rafe."
I grimaced. The thought of sharing a room with him alone made my stomach knot for reasons I couldn't understand. We’d never been alone together overnight before. Sure, he had come to hang out in in my hometown a few times and I’d likewise goneto Leeds, but we never stayed the night. Back in London at the shared apartment building, we all had our own flats; but now he and I would be totally alone togetherall night. Separate from the others. A lot could go wrong.
The first night we spent together went off without a hitch. We watched videos on his phone and he later slept like a rock, fully clothed and facing away from me. I thought he smelled like toothpaste and fresh laundry, which was better than Nathan who smelled like the brick of garlic cheese he’d scarfed down after brushing his teeth for the night. He also slept with his mouth open and snored like me, whereas Rome was the total opposite. Had I not felt his warmth, I wouldn’t have known he was there. He slept so soundlessly I could hardly tell if he was breathing at all. And I didn't want to annoy him, so I kept as still as possible, even when I needed to shift to get more comfortable. I took extra caution not to brush his body in any way, not wanting to weird him out.
The next morning when I woke, he was still asleep, so I left the room and joined the others upstairs. They were still in bed but had gotten tea and were watching cartoons. Later when Rome joined us, he stood by the edge of the bed and ruffled Levi's hair. A strange sensation came over me. He called him‘curly sue number two,’both because it rhymed and because I was‘curly suenumber one.’I was so used to him absently petting and admiring my hair that to see him do the same to Levi made my blood boil with a sense of betrayal. I didn't realize I was glaring until he glanced my way with one of his squinty-eyed smiles. It was an unspoken‘good morning’since I’d left the room early. Now I felt bad I’d been thinking ill of him.
Later we all gathered downstairs, and breakfast was served by the film crew. McDonald's Egg McMuffins and Hot Cakesaplenty. My mum stopped by and made sure we had everything we needed, and played a game of Monopoly with us betweenshoots. She also made us clean up the messes we’d made earlier, and ensured we kept our shoes off the furniture.
The second night of our stay, Rome was less aloof. We ended up chatting for a while in the dark, staring at the ceiling until he dozed. This was the night I realized he sometimes mumbled in his sleep. Little indecipherable sighs that bled from his dreams whenever he didn't have his thumb jammed between his lips. I stayed up to listen a while, slowly dozing as well. The third night was when it all changed.
13
During a swim, we had a game of volleyball where I skinny-dipped and the boys made fun of me. Rome stuck to the shallow end of the pool and assisted me as best as he could from there. He wasn't much help though, as his phobia of the water made him slow, and he was overly cautious of every step. We lost dreadfully. After we rinsed off and got dressed, I was determined to do something about it.
"Mate, that was shit. That can't happen again.”
He shrugged at me, standing across our bed.
"Don’t give me that! They'll never let uz live it down!"
At that, he lay back across the center of the mattress with a laugh. "I did my best, Rafe, what're you on about? I can't be as quick as you boys, you know that. I'm not drownin’ over some stupid game, mate."
"I know, I know..." I said, pacing back and forth and knocking the heel of my hand against my head. "What if I taught you to swim?! Like right now? Like today!"
