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“But we didn’t do anything wrong.”
Jem’s smile was mirthless. “Cops have a funny way of seeing things sometimes.”
“I don’t understand. Do you want me not to tell them something? If you don’t trust them, then we shouldn’t be working with them at all.”
“No,” Jem said. “That’s not—just be careful, that’s all.”
Tean frowned. The set of Jem’s shoulders was tense, the muscles drawn tight. Under the resort’s bright fluorescent lights, for the first time Tean noticed dirt and grass stains on Jem’s shirt, and his limp seemed even more pronounced. As though sensing Tean’s attention, Jem cast him an oblique smile. His shoulders fell back and down, loosening, and his body opened up, and even his limp faded to almost nothing—although Tean could see what it cost Jem, the strain showing around his eyes. Just like that, between one step and the next, Jem was a different man. He mouthed,Careful, and then he opened the door.
On the other side of the room, Emery stood clutching a fistful of pages that appeared to have been torn from a notebook. Shaw stood opposite him, beaming, clutching a notebook with the tattered edges of pages visible. Today’s outfit was a pickle-colored velvet tee and matching joggers. His shirt had the wordQueenieembroidered in lime green across his chest, and his headband, wristbands, and leg warmers were the exact same shade as the embroidery.
“—never in my life,” Emery roared, “ejaculated!”
John-Henry, in the front row of seats, rubbed his forehead.
North sat with his big boots kicked up on the back of a chair, grinning. He looked like the only thing he was missing was popcorn.
Behind Tean, Auggie said, “Um.”
“Great,” Theo muttered. “That’s our cue to go.”
Jem, of course, was fighting a giggle.
The multipurpose room looked like any of the others being used by the conference. Rows of stackable chairs with minimal padding faced a portable screen, along with a table and chairs for the presenters. A projector on an AV cart was dark and silent. Plastic cups waited on a table near the door—the water carafes, apparently, had been retired for the day. Music filtered in from the hotel hallway, playing softly. It sounded like something fromWhite Christmas, only if the composer had written exclusively for the jazz flute and had done copious amounts of cocaine. Was there a psychosexual dream sequence inWhite Christmas? Tean tried to remember. That didn’t sound right.
“Ree,” John-Henry said.
“And furthermore,” Emery said, stabbing a finger at Shaw, “I do not own, and have not ever owned, quote, ‘crotchless panties that displayed the splendor of his manhood.’”
“That seems like a good stopping point for this conversation.”
“Wait,” North said, “he’s got more.”
“And if I did,” Emery continued, “I certainly wouldn’t wear them on a roller coaster, where the likelihood of snagging an appendage or an orifice would be dramatically higher.”
“An orifice,” Jem whispered.
Auggie muffled a laugh in Theo’s shoulder. Even Theo’s normally stern expression relaxed somewhat.
“Ok,” John-Henry said, “now we’re done.”
“You will cease and desist writing this—this—”
“Tripe,” North suggested.
“Tripe! And you will never include me in your pornography again.”
Shaw nodded enthusiastically throughout the tirade. So enthusiastically, in fact, that some of his hair fell free from its bun. “Right, of course, definitely. If I could—”
But when he reached for the pages Emery clutched, Emery yanked them out of reach.
“I was going to show you,” Shaw said, “it’s not even about you, Emery. And it’s definitely not pornography. It’s an epic love story—”
“Platonic,” North said.
“An epic platonic love story, and it’s about two totally fictional characters named Shawn and Emerson—”
Emery’s growl reached a new level of intensity.
