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“Glory, I can’t go to sleep. I’m afraid I’ll die.”
She gives it another click, and my body feels light as goose down.
“Cameron, wake up. It’s Dulcie.”
“Huh?”
I’m back in the hotel room, away from dreams. Dulcie’s stroking my face. “What did you mean, you were afraid you’d die if you went to sleep?”
“I saw Glory. In the hospital.”
“Cam, you’re with me, okay?”
I look around and see that she’s right. The light from the parking lot cuts through the thin curtains in harsh streaks.
“I can’t go to sleep, Dulcie. Now that …” I can’t finish it. Can’t tell her that since I’m no longer a virgin, I’m sure I’ll die.
“How was it?” she asks in a voice soft as a prayer.
“Good.”
“Liar.” Dulcie gives me a small smile, but she looks sad.
Somebody’s puking out in the parking lot. His friends are laughing in a grossed-out way.
“I thought I would feel different.”
“Do you?” Dulcie asks.
Yes. No. I don’t know. I feel emptied. Lost. A little sad. Like I was expecting a package that never arrived. Maybe if I had more time, I could’ve shrugged it off and said, hey, pal, better lay next time. But this was pretty much my one shot, and I blew it. It’s not just the sex, though. It’s the whole damn unfairness of it all. Like I’m just starting to understand how amazing this whole crazy ride is going to be and now it’s coming to the end.
“Cameron?” Dulcie’s staring at me in the strangest way. She reaches out and strokes my face. She has the lightest touch I’ve ever felt as she wipes away my tears.
“Go away.”
“No,” she says.
“Please. Okay?”
“Cameron, look at me. …”
The room’s getting brighter. Dulcie’s wings unfurl, exposing her bare body by degrees. Shoulders. Stomach. Arms. Thighs. Her skin glistens.
“Dulcie?” I say, not taking my eyes off her. She is such a bright thing.
“Shhh …”
“If we do this, will I die?”
She puts her fingers to my lips, and this is the part of her that I see most.
“Everyone’s dying, Cameron. A little, every day. Make it count.”
Without another word, she pulls me to her. Those huge, soft wings fold around me like I’m being held for the first time. Like I’m drifting toward that black hole in the sky and I’m not afraid. I want to be pulled in. I want to hear it sing. I want to hear that B-flat in an octave no human being can really hear. I want to keep feeling. I want her.
Something brushes against my bare skin. Fingers? Lips? Wings? I can’t say, but the sensation is incredible. It’s like I’m accelerating through those eleven dimensions at once, and my body is both wave and particle. We’re colliding, making our own universe, something new and unnamed and full of every possibility. It’s so intense, this happiness—there is no escape velocity from this kind of feeling. And for once, I’m not looking for a way out.
I trace kisses from the hard calluses of her palms to the soft pads of her fingertips. She reaches up and cups my face in those small hands. They’re warm as the first sun in spring.
