The next morning, I woke up with the Walls of No inside me firmly back in place. I tried my best, to make myself open back up, to release the awful clench, but after yesterday’s oceanic up and downs, anything relying on trust or surrender was locked down tight. Raphael noticed, but he played it like all was well. I showered first, and after I was done, he got in while I sat on the floor, talking to him as he bathed. I was telling him one of my wild tales of free-flowing liquor, where most of it was going down my own gullet, and was just getting to the good part where I flashed my tits to cut in line at the pool table, when he interrupted me.
“You let people think you're crazy, but you're not the least bit insane,” he said from the other side of the shower curtain. “Not at all.”
“Sure I am. You just haven't really seen the full scope of it yet. Wait until you get caught in the crossfire of it.”
“I'm your friend. Whatever happens, I'm your friend and you'll do everything you can for me. Our friendship will come first.” . . . . . . . . .