“What do you write?” said one of the gay guys. The other one had run off. Marina got a fresh look at him and noticed that he was very attractive. Her eyes ascended from his hands up his long, thin arms fluted with muscle and spotted with freckles, to his shoulders, bare in a black tank top. There were little red flowers embroidered on the thin strip of fabric that covered his collarbones. He had a face as square as a Roman statue and a nest of brownish curls that got in his eyes.

“Poetry,” Marina said.

(Was it possible that he would be into girls? Maybe she wasn’t, like, girl enough yet for him to be, like, categorically uninterested? It’s not like in a sane world her pronouns would be a determining factor there. She let herself fall into that hypothetical. She was wearing a dress, and had long hair that was up in a braided bun, but, well, that was about all. But then she had the thought that men and women are beautiful in different ways, and it’s not like your credits transfer over.)

“What kind of poetry?” he said.

“I mean, I — I’m not really writing. I mean, I’m not really writing anything right now, but I did write poetry before. Sorry, I’m really high and I didn’t get your name. Either of your names.”

He laughed and held out his hand. She felt what she imagined to be an electric charge go up her forearm as his fingers curled under her hand.

“Nico.”

“He’s Nicki sometimes,” Silver Jumpsuit said.

“Not right now,” he said, smiling as if embarrassed.

“I’m Marina. Full-time,” Marina said.

Silver Jumpsuit nodded. “I’m Aubrey, they/them/theirs.”

Marina nodded back. “Um, how do you two know Perrin?”

“I work with her at the gallery,” Nico said.

“I show my work there a lot,” Aubrey said. Their voice had shades of vocal fry around the edges. “I’m a photographer, and Nico and Perrin are basically the only actual gallerists in this town that show, like, art that takes risks right now.”

“Cool,” Marina said, unsure what the expected response was.

“I think I want to smoke a cigarette,” Nico announced.

“Yeah, I’ll come with,” Aubrey said.

He seemed bored. Marina looked at him again. “Me too,” she said.

♒

They went upstairs to a dim hallway and out to the roof through Perrin’s bedroom.

“Finally,” Aubrey breathed into the hot night air. “Ugh. A moment of calm.”

“Amen to that,” Nico said, sitting on the sloped tiles and looking out into the deserted street. Before long they were talking about something incomprehensible to Marina. He handed her his lighter. She lay on her back and watched an air-plane passing between mackerel clouds way up there, all her being focused on its flickering track.