He drifts off and I let a few tears fall, but just a few. He pats me on the back awkwardly, like three staccato pats that make me really regret coming outside.

“Well, thanks,” I say, “but I gotta get back to the party. Wouldn’t want these garden gnomes to hear about my boring family life.”

He clears his throat and starts singing. “I only mentioned it becaaaaaauseeee…” He hits a note that reaches the moon.

“Can you please just talk in a normal voice,” I say, slurring a little. “If life were a musical, I would have killed myself by now.”

“Sometimes I don’t have words.” He shrugs. “Just songs.”

I kick at the grass with my combat boots, feeling like quite the asshole. He hardly seems fazed. “Well, if you change your mind, or if all of this starts to feel empty…” He trails off, looking sideways into the window, where Doug is streaking the basement. Way too many things are bouncing around.

“There are too many people down there to feel empty,” I joke as I head for the house.

“Loneliness isn’t about numbers, it’s about worlds,” he calls. “And how many people are in yours.” I stop and think about turning around, but suddenly it feels more claustrophobic outside than it did in the basement. “Well, have a good night, Cham,” he says.

“I am,” I say quickly. “I mean, you too.”

As I hurry back toward the house, the music gets louder. All I want to do is find Gene and disappear with him. As soon as I get inside, it smells like beer and I begin to feel nauseous. Luckily, I’m a pro at overriding feelings.

Gene is in the corner of his basement, playing beer pong. “Hey, come here,” I whisper in his ear as he prepares to throw the ball. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“Right now?” he asks, surprised, with his arm perched for the throw.

“Get it, you guys,” Doug says, stepping toward us and grabbing the ball out of Gene’s hand. “Do like bunnies do. I’ll take over for you.”

“Okay, this just got mortifying,” I say, burying my face in Gene’s chest. I help myself to his beer, which strongly reminds me of pee. Gene kisses my forehead.

“Thanks for being such a team player, Doug,” he says, slipping his fingers through my belt loops as he pulls me toward the stairs. “You’re a real pal.”

Doug laughs and throws the ball at the pyramid of cups, where it sinks under a layer of foam. “See you kids soon,” Doug calls. Suddenly it feels like the whole basement is looking at us.

“Yeah, girl,” Abigail calls as she dances with the empty bottle of Fireball.

“Quick, go go go,” I laugh, pushing Gene up the stairs. I’m breathless and thrilled.

“I want you,” he whispers as he pulls me through the kitchen, toward his bedroom. My head is spinning and time is speeding up.

“I want you too.”

When we close ourselves in his room, he takes his shirt off with one tug over his head. I take a breath and touch the golden cross that hangs on a chain and falls in the center of his chest. I want him. More than the other times. I want to explore that wanting without having to keep stopping. Too far. Not now. I want no boundaries. The muscles in his stomach fluctuate as he breathes, and I trace the dark hair that trails down his belly button and disappears beneath the band of his boxers. He tilts my chin up to kiss me. I want to know what it’ll feel like. I want to know if we’ll say anything while it’s happening. I want to know if I’ll be different after. I push him toward the bed, and he plays with the strap of my underwear. I lie on top of him, and his hand explores the cheek no one’s explored. His hand slips down the front of my underwear and I let him this time. This time is the time. I want to close every space between us until it’s nothing but youmeyoume.