But you will feel something, Jo reassured. I want you to focus your full intensity on the sound of The Hum. I want you to feel it swell inside you and, as it does, I want you to picture the sound like a warm glow filling your body with light, okay?

Nora nodded.

Don’t be nervous, Jo said. There’s nothing to be nervous about.

Okay.

We’re all here supporting and lifting you.

Thank you.

Okay. I want everyone to find their breath.

I watched as everyone closed their eyes. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to do it again, and so soon. I had barely reckoned with what had happened the first time. But I closed my eyes, and tried to slow my heartbeat. After a long moment, I could hear Damian to my left and Mia to my right beginning to breathe deeply. One by one, I heard others do so as well, even Nora, though it was hard to distinguish one breath from another. We gradually forged a single breath. Breaths turned to gasps, which turned to groans, which gradually transformed into a kind of aural emission, a sustained, almost ritualistic humming, unconscious and libidinal, which grew in intensity, grew in heat, grew ever more expansive until we were swaying, frenzied, until my body was not my body, my breath, my voice, until nothing belonged to me, and I was just a portal of sound, until everything came undone, ruptured, and culminated in a thunderous climax, channelled through the vessel of Nora’s convulsing body.

13

LATER THAT NIGHT, AFTER OUR FIRST TUNING, CARS CHIRPED, and headlights flashed as we all dispersed from Howard and Jo’s. I glanced around for Kyle and noticed him walking off by himself down the street. I called his name and he stopped. I jogged over to him and asked if he was okay. He shrugged and took out his vape.

You left pretty suddenly, I said.

He took a puff, turned his head, and blew vanilla-scented smoke away from me—It’s just a lot to process.

We stood there, in the middle of the street, watching the others find their way to their cars. I asked him if he was still mad at me.

Why would I be mad at you?

I told him that it felt as if he had pulled away from me over the last few weeks. Sometimes we’d go a couple of days without messaging. I asked him if he was hurt that I hadn’t done more to help after his mom kicked him out.

He shook his head. No, it’s cool.

How has it been staying with Mark?

He shrugged.

Are you on the couch?

I don’t really want to talk about it.

I nodded. Okay. And then, after a silence, I said—I’m sorry. I feel like I failed you.