She waited a long time for Bryan to make some kind of move. Some re-angling of his body. Some mere brushing of her skin. But he remained still. His harsh eyebrows were relaxed, his breath tranquil. She tried to remember the movement of their argument and whether she had perhaps thrown him off track with her antagonism, but the specifics were already getting hazy. Maybe he was waiting for some kind of signal on her part, some sign of forgiveness. Maybe it was her responsibility to get things started after all.

Why not, she thought. They were still drunk. It was dark. She could allow herself to be foolish. Anyway, time was getting short.

“Bryan?” she whispered.

“Uh huh?”

“You asleep?”

“Not yet.”

She didn’t say anything.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Come on. What?”

“Do you . . . How should I say this? Do you want a blow job?”

Her stomach clenched with nerves. She had expected a moment of flustered embarrassment on his part. A shocked, titillated grappling with the invitation. A stammering giving-in. But instead he seemed well prepared with his answer.

“That’s okay,” he said.

The distant vent cut off and silence collected.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

Rain pattered on the faraway skylights of the mall.

“Sorry if that was weird,” Kendra said. “I just . . .”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“I can sleep here next to you?”

“Sure. Of course.”

They remained side by side. Bryan’s body was as still as a statue. Kendra was too humiliated to close her eyes. What kind of person refused a blow job? What kind of superior asshole did he think he was? She had asked nothing from him. She only wanted to know he was human. She wanted to know he had a dick, and baser drives, like everyone else. The last thing she wanted was his pity, but that seemed to be what she had gotten. She never should have told him her father drove a cab.

She stared at the ceiling. She could still feel Bryan’s heat emanating. He lay with his hands at his sides, and she watched the rise of his chest and stomach, the inflation of the wet organs inside him. He refused to open his eyes. Gingerly, she reached over and lifted his shirt and touched his taut belly. His muscles constricted, then relaxed.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“Shhh.”

She unbuttoned his fly and reached under his waistband and found him already hard. His cock knew what was going on. She kissed his stomach. Late at night all the proscriptions of the day fell away and anything became possible. Fuck his goodness, she thought. Fuck his pity. They were two young bodies in a cage together, and they would do what they pleased.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

“No one’ll know,” she whispered. She breathed onto the head of his cock to torture him.

“I don’t . . . I don’t know.”