“What do you mean?” said Prince. Playing dumb. Like my sister when she did something wrong, but she was always doing something wrong so it stopped working. It was not working for Prince either.
“You know what I mean,” I said. “Girl or boy? I don’t care. It does not matter to me one way or another.”
“I’m whatever you want me to be,” said Prince. Suddenly Prince had shrunk down. There was no puffed-out chest, just a bunch of delicate limbs arranged together. “But let me guess. You want a boy. It’ll be another eighteen months before that’s official.”
I opened my mouth, but there was no way anything was coming out of it. But I did not really care what he was. I thought about me and Thomas, all of our problems. I could not say anything about anyone else’s sex or choices when my own sex life was so messed up. And with my sister knocking around town like she did. Or my mother and father, and the frozen divide between them. At least Prince was interested in figuring out who she really was.
“Have another shot,” said Prince.
“I think you should have it,” I said. “You’re the one who needs it.”
“So are you still interested?”
“Interested in what?” I said.
“In, you know, me.”
I leaned in close to Prince. “I don’t know if there is much inside of me worth anything. I might be broken. I can’t feel anything at all.” It felt so good to say something so sad. What a relief. This is why people come here, I thought. To tell their secrets to strangers.
“You look like you work just fine to me,” said Prince. “You’re lovely.”
“You’re prettier than me,” I said. It was true. Prince was prettier than anyone in the room. “It doesn’t matter what I look like. Everything is still all messed up in there.”
“You know maybe . . .” Prince started stacking all the empty shot glasses on top of each other. Real careful and slow. “Maybe I know things other people don’t know. How to make you feel something.”
“I’m not that kind of girl,” I said. “I’m just, you know, normal.”
“How do you know?” said Prince.
I had no good answer one way or the other. But I still was not going home with Prince on New Year’s Eve. Bon Jovi came back and sat with us. He had a fresh bottle of water. Prince got us all glasses of champagne. It was getting closer to midnight. The whole bar was excited about it. Paul and John were both angling to kiss Valka at midnight. I noticed Paul was much younger than John. I was rooting for Paul. He was a real Beatle, being British and all. John was from Chicago. When he spoke he sounded flat, like me. He was still wearing the round glasses he had worn onstage. I wondered who would win out: the sound-alike or the look-alike. Midnight came and I hugged and kissed Prince and Bon Jovi, but just quick pecks on the mouth. I appreciated the way Prince held on to my hair. I let him do it. I let him hold on to me for too long. I did not care what he was. I did not care what I was. I did not care about anything except that Valka had a Beatle for a night. I looked over, and there she was kissing Paul. Her mouth was wide open, almost like she was a fish gasping for air. Every part of her body was attached to his. He had his hands on her breasts, and her back was arched in extreme pleasure. She was feeling all of him and he was feeling all of her. To feel, I thought. To feel deep down. I dug for a second in myself, I imagined my hands reaching inside me, scraping around, but nothing came back up.
We ended up back in my hotel room, the Beatles, Prince, some girls Bon Jovi had picked up, including one of the Mariah Careys. There were a few bottles of champagne. I did not know where they came from. Everyone was talking so much. Bon Jovi and Mariah Carey danced in the corner slowly and licked each other’s tongues. There was a knock at the door and there was one of the Britney Spearses, with a bottle of vodka in each hand. “The party’s just getting started,” she said.
I went into the bedroom and closed the doors. I kicked off my fuck-me shoes and got under the covers, still in my vixen dress. Prince came in to talk to me and sat on the edge of the bed.
“That’s a big bed,” said Prince. “You got some room for me under those covers?” He crawled on the bed toward me.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“You’re not going to know until you try,” he said. He was trying his tricky tricks on me. “I love you, baby,” he said. “You know I do.” His voice was husky.
He could be anything. He could be anyone. I could be the perfect girl for him. I would never know. Unless I tried.
Right before I closed my eyes I thought of Jenny. It had been a few hours since I had heard from her, but it felt like a very long time.