“Too bad he’s so ugly. ”
“No, he’s hot, too. Quinn said. ”
“Quinn’s into girls. ”
“Quinn’s bi. ”
“Seriously?”
“You didn’t know that?”
I shake my head.
“Well, she is. And she thinks Scott is hot. ”
“So you ask him out, and then you dive right in and kiss him. See what happens. ”
I watch her when I say it, because whatever her reaction is, I’m going to memorize it. I’m going to use it to remind myself whenever I need reminding.
She’s not mine. I can’t have her. That’s final.
“I will,” she says. “That’s a great idea. ”
But the face she makes—it’s not going to work out as the reminder I wanted.
“You look like you’re thinking about licking a slug. ”
“Don’t tease me. I’m working on it. ”
I want to tease her, though. I feel suddenly, thoroughly stoned on this idea I’ve had. It’s made it to my brain, I guess. It’s worked through my system in one fast heady rush.
Nothing is real but her and me and this ocean of dark we’re drifting in.
Nothing is real but the way I feel lighter when she smiles. When I’m teasing her, I feel like maybe I’m somebody, after all, and not just a son and a brother, an employee, a quick fuck. I’m m
ore than a student, an impostor, an arrow on its vector toward a goal. Like I matter to her.
Like I matter for me and not for what I can do for somebody else.
“If I said you should suck him off, maybe, maybe, I’d expect that face. But kissing? How can you be into a guy and make that face when you think about kissing him?”
“It’s complicated. Shut up. ”
“I’ll shut up when you answer the question. ”
“No. I’m not—why are we even talking about this?”
“Because you’re stoned. You have no filter. ”
“I do too. ”
“We just talked about your cunt. The filters are definitely off-line. ”
She laughs and buries her face in her hands. “That was your fault. ”
“Everything is my fault. ”
I can’t stop this. Can’t stop myself. Not when she’s making me feel this way.