One More

‘D’you remember the deaths back in school?’
‘Yeah, they seemed like a lot.’

‘One’s a lot, at that age.’

‘One’s too many.’

‘Too young.’

‘What d’you think they’d be doing now?’

‘Don’t dwell on that shit.’

‘Who was it again?’

‘Rather not have to say their names. It’s morbid.’

‘You’re right, I won’t go there. Not now. But how did they go?’ 

‘If you’re asking, then one did it with a shotgun.’

‘Shotgun? Fuck! How did they get one of those?’

‘The Dad.’

‘Oh. Shit.’

‘Was it because of the priests?’

‘Nah, that was years back, before our time.’

‘Ah, yeah, it was on the news, I remember now. Who was it in our class?’

‘…Carlos. Why did you have to ask again?’

‘…just been thinking about it recently. It was fucking tragic. Found hanging with your shorts round your ankles? How d’you think Andreas is now? After… y’know?’

‘All I know is, I’ve done some terrible shit in my time, but that… he would have been told about it sometime or other. From someone. Everyone hears about it eventually. Usually when someone is found hanging with their shorts round their ankles. It could have been anyone.’

‘Yeah, I guess. There are better ways to get off.’

‘We were only 13.’

‘Still, if it was me, I couldn’t forget that.’

‘Let it go. It would have happened anyway.’

‘Who was the other kid?’

‘Can’t remember…’

‘How’s Emma?’

‘She’s pissed at me. I drink too much.’

‘Want another drink?’

‘Yeah.’