—What are you even saying, crazy?
—Stay with me. Let’s keep at it. Tastes so good.
She asks it again, after I say I didn’t hear her. —Would you do something with a guy?
—No.
—For me?
—Like, it turns you on? I don’t know. Depends on what, depends on guy.
—Let me think.
—No, the answer is no.
—Did you ever do anything with a girl?
—Last year my boyfriend was into that. He invited over this friend of his cousin. The cousin had this crazy motorcycle and was so fucking hot, Cole.
—Could you? Talk about the girl, or, maybe let’s not talk about it.
—It’s OK, you look at other girls,
My eyes blush back to her. It was just she was climbing onto a bicycle, the crotch of her little pants just for a moment, every fold like the fold of her skin, climbing on.
Grisaille is smiling, though.
—but maybe, Cole, not when I am actually talking to you.
—You know that girl Jana? She draws amazing.
—Yeah, I know her.
—Amazing. She was showing me about shading. See, look at the coffee cup. Wait. This one. I’m pretty proud of it. She showed me, see, how to make it, like down here, so the shadow kind of rounds it out.
—Wow.
I never thought of her like that. Grisaille looks at me, guesses it out.
—Her, too?
—We didn’t, it was just one night at a party. We didn’t sleep together.
—But you tried?
—I don’t know. It didn’t happen.
She shut the sketchbook and put her hands down on it.
—She draws really, really well.
—I didn’t even know you then.
—I know, Cole. I was just hoping there was someone who, I could find someone you haven’t messed with.
I told Grisaille again that I didn’t even know her then. And, did not add: still feel like that sometimes.
She’s on her stomach with her hands stretched out in front of her. I’m putting my clothes on. Her armpits, hairy, and her skin all the way down, is actually making me ache, an actual ache. She turns her head and her eyes are wet. Shit, crying?
—What’s wrong?
—Nothing.
—What’s,
—Nothing.
She says something in another language, I don’t even know which one. She watches me not get it. —It’s an expression. Who can I complain to, if I don’t like the shape of the globe?
—Are you, did I,
She’s almost disgusted at me. —It’s not you, Cole. Everything in my head isn’t what you do. I just miss him.
—Him who?
—Them. Them. Everybody.
Maybe it’s the town and everything, everyone in it. I’m not Portugal, nothing around here is Portugal. I run the longer trail, frowning at the puzzle of it, that I might be the apple or something of her eye, but that she is the whole horizon, everything I can look at and see.
Onscreen like always she’s —Sorry about before.
—OK.
—Really. I think I’m getting sick is all.
I give her a smile but the stretch, the gap, the bridge that falls through sometimes even when it’s built back up. We built it, everything almost we have, from sex, all the dirty parts are almost all the parts. It feels like enough when we’re having it. But there are other times too. I can only pin her down, it scares me to realize I think this, when I’m pinning her down.
Three days Grisaille’s out. I feel like I’m on false legs, trying to laugh around with people I haven’t really paid attention to lately. Lost and leashless. Alec won’t even tell me to fuck off. Run longer. Actually ace a quiz. Draw something, badly at first and then maybe not so terrible, a piece of paper I then fold up for no reason and then, again, alone at the screen, too early for sleep, hello girls.
Here they are near a swimming pool, in neighboring chairs that tilt way back. Her fingernails look too long to feel good inside her but she has two of them deep. The tans are ridiculous so I don’t know why it works. Her nipples, the angle of her legs on his shoulders. I don’t think of how uncomfortable it would be on those chairs. I think of Grisaille’s chest, and how good it feels to come on her.
Lots of babysitter ones. So many that everyone’s dad must have watched one at least. Alana used to babysit a lot.
Grisaille’s back coming through the door. I don’t like how nervous I am about it, how wide I can feel my grin after the kiss is over. Her teeth are hungry on mine. —I really, really really missed you.
It is Grisaille saying this. I am embarrassed that I am grateful.
—My mom’s got it now, what I had. She’s sick.
—That sucks.
—For us, yeah. Where can we go, where is there?
Well, I haven’t had an orgasm by these bleachers for a while.
Compare and contrast the two treaties of Bucharest and finally getting to fuck in a bed again with your girlfriend tonight. Give examples. Give us the details.
She is scooting over me, breathing odd, in the position girls usually do to dollop their breasts in your mouth one by one. But she keeps on, her chest passing by with a warm slide of the skin, until she drops her belly onto my mouth. It’s salty on my tongue, smooth and gurgly. She is laughing now. —Eat my belly! Behold it! Worship the belly!
I realize what it is, the salt I’m tasting, but I go crazy on it anyway until she’s yelping, shimmying, each eek a super delight.
—Give me a hint.
—Rhymes with funalingus.
Her hands on my ass pushing me deeper and for a second Alec is there in my head, in my cock.
—You came quick when I did that.
She’s watching me, blinking. I pretend, to kill the moment, I’m taking a bow.
—There’s my beautiful wife.
The guy’s in the lobby of the multiplex. We’re both waiting outside the ladies room. He’s old, but beautiful wife, I take it, means they’re still fucking.
—Do you want to go to Greta’s?
She yawns a little. —Whatever. I’m easy.
—I know.
Her eyes go dark right quick. —I mean it. Don’t ever. You’re pretty easy yourself, but I bet nobody says it, yes?
—Yes. They say I have a rep.
—For a boy, that’s like a medal. Or maybe a hat, like even if you don’t like it, it’s just something he wears. For girls, it’s like, she’s a ruin, stay away from her.
—It’s not like that. People get mad at me too. Girls I’ve been with, their friends, it’s like a minefield.
—Not the same. You know Allison? Never mind, of course you do. She won’t talk to me hardly, and we’re next to each other in three classes, because she knows we’re fucking.
—That’s nuts. All the guys she’s been with, she needs all the friends she can get.
Her eyes do it again. —This is what I mean, Cole.
I have a who-knows-where thought on a run, that I wish Alec could watch us. Just in a corner of the room. His cock in his hands. But when I think about looking at his face, I can’t go on, and sprint it, fast fast faster until I’m panting too hard to even have it in my head anymore.
—OK I did some gay stuff but I don’t feel gay about it.
—Tell me what stuff.
—OK but don’t tell anyone.
—Well I’m a guy on a random anonymous chat. Think you’re safe.