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Informationen zum Autor Chris Lynch Klappentext Keir Sarafian must finally confront his past when tragedy strikes during his first year of what has been an eye-opening first year of college.Irreversible whoever comes for me I didn’t even know who I wanted to come for me. Not Carl. I knew I didn’t want the first person through the door to be Carl. Because a boyfriend was always going to think the worst about another guy who was with his girl. And I was only with her because he wasn’t. He let her down, and if he hadn’t, things would have been way, way different. He wouldn’t want to hear that, but it was the truth. I might have wanted my sisters to come, because they loved me, and that’s a good thing to have when a guy is in trouble. Fran, though. Fran would have been better than Mary, because Fran would listen to my side. My dad, Ray. Ray would take my side before even hearing what my side was. Maybe that wouldn’t be the best thing. Maybe better if the campus police came, impartial, taking my statement and seeing there was nothing to this. Nothing but craziness, mistakes, and misunderstandings. I didn’t know what I wanted. I just knew I was going to wait for it to come. That was a lie. I knew what I wanted. I knew who I wanted. I wanted Gigi Boudakian to walk back through that door. I wanted Gigi Boudakian to come back and say how crazy all that was, how the fresh piney air and the clarity of morning light breathed sense back into her and back into the whole universe. Because I could never rape anybody. Rape. Even saying the word, even saying it to myself, nowhere else but inside me, caused my head to crackle with lethal pain, caused my stomach to try to launch right up my throat and out of me. And to think I could do that to Gigi Boudakian? Hurt Gigi Boudakian in any way at all? How could she? How could she think that? How dare she? How fucking dare she? How fucking dare you, Gigi Boudakian? No. No, no. This was a nightmare. Was this even a nightmare? Even nightmares needed to make some sort of sense, come from some real place somewhere. There was nothing real about this. No. It was not her fault. Nothing was, nothing could be. I didn’t know whose fault it was, but I knew it was not Gigi Boudakian’s fault. I also knew I was a good guy. Good guys didn’t do bad things. All we needed was for Gigi Boudakian to remember that, to know it like she always knew it, and come back. So we could all know it again. • • • “Get the fuck up.” It wasn’t like I was unprepared for this. But I couldn’t have gotten “the fuck up” if I tried. I didn’t try. I stared at the cinder blocks in the wall, counting them like I had been doing ever since it got light enough, tracing the straight, right-angle lines of mortar holding them together. “I’m not gonna say this a whole lot of times. And I’m not gonna just let you lie there, and I’m not gonna kick the shit outta you while you’re already down. So, if I have to pick you up and put you on your feet first, that’s what I’ll do, so you might as well just get the fuck up, now.” The wall had 120 cinder blocks altogether. You would think they could slap a layer of something, anything, over the blocks so they didn’t have to look so cold, penal, and punitive. How much could something like that cost anyway? Hardly anything, I would guess, and the difference would be transforming. Anything would be better than this soul-sucking business here. He was good to his word, though. To all his words. He wasn’t having any of this nonsense of mine. I felt weightless as Carl lifted me up off the rotten little bed. It was like it was no effort for him at all, as if he was doing it almost tenderly. Like a dad taking a litt...
