A younger boy walked by and said, “Hey David! Who’s the president?” Everyone laughed. He was quiet that afternoon, but on the right day? David truly could be such a fuckin’ clown.

David’s beseeching texts pulled Ray home that night. They played Smash and smoked a bowl and David explained about Iris as best he could. After, he said, “Did I do the right thing or the wrong thing?”

“The wrong thing,” Ray said, without missing a beat. Then, at seeing David’s frozen face, he chuckled. “Sorry, man. I think you threw away someone who really loved you.”

A true fact that made everything small. Ray knew him better than anyone. Best friends since eighth grade and all that. Why had David broken up with Iris?! Why had he not tried to work it out? The only phrase churning up from his stomach, the only truth that survived any glare posed by these questions, which he did not put to Ray: Because I wanted to.

And Ray was a good pal; he didn’t push it. They walked to the Plaid for chips and beer, did hyper Mitch Hedberg imitations walking back. Except, later, David said, “Hey dude. About Iris.” “Hold up.” Ray destroyed David with a Falcon Punch. “What about her?”

“A few times. She would …”

David told Ray he would say no when he and Iris were in bed, and Iris would do things anyway. The language David used was do things in bed I didn’t always want to do, and did not get more specific. He didn’t talk about her pressing against David as he mumbled, No, no, about the time he’d fumbled with a condom and she’d said, Put that away and whisked it off as he said, But, but, but, didn’t tell Ray about when David cried, I can’t! as Iris jerked him off and she cried, Yes, you can! and lowered herself on top of him, didn’t mention the first time, with the pizza, though the pizza always came to David’s mind. It was a unique worm living in David, and eventually, David had stopped saying no and just accepted it. Until now, David had not told a soul, or let it poke into his consciousness. It wasn’t like he ever had the stones to talk to her about it. Like couples were supposed to do. Talk about it.

“I mean, whatever,” David said hesitantly. “I don’t consider myself a sexual assault victim or anything. But she did sexual things with me without my approval. That … seems like something to think about.”

“Hm,” grunted Ray.