No. I don’t know.

I thought about it for a moment. I told him that it felt a bit like I had been living in this small room my whole life, and then Howard and Jo opened this door to another room, and we had taken just the smallest step into it. And the new room was dark and massive. I couldn’t even see its walls. Maybe there were no walls; maybe it was boundless. But I knew that all I wanted was to be in that new room.

Kyle looked at me. I want to be in that room with you, he said.

He then took a step towards me, coming inches from my face. I could smell vanilla smoke on his breath. He closed his eyes, and leaned in—and I stepped back.

Sorry, he said, opening his eyes, suddenly self-conscious. I shouldn’t have done that.

Why did you?

He looked over his shoulder, and then turned back, brow furrowed—Because um. Well. I love you, basically.

My mouth opened of its own accord, but I said nothing.

I-I don’t mean that I’m in love with you, obviously, he said, suddenly an awkward teenager again. Or maybe not obviously, I don’t know. But I love you. And not like a teacher, or a friend, or a mother, or anything romantic, it’s not like any of that. But it’s something sort of between all of those things. Something there isn’t a name for. I don’t even care if you love me back but I just needed to tell you—

I do, I said, without thinking; without ever having admitted it to myself before then. I loved this possibly gay seventeen-year-old former student of mine in the same unnameable way he had just described, which, by acknowledging, meant that I was so much further gone than even I had thought myself to be.

He made a little laugh of relief, and looked down. He kicked a stone into the darkness—So where does that leave us?

I don’t know, I said.

Standing on this street, I guess.

I guess.

I don’t want to go yet, he said. I know we can’t just stand here but, um. I kind of just want to keep talking.

I nodded, because I wasn’t ready to drive home to an empty house. He suggested going to the nearby park, and I told him that I didn’t think it was appropriate for us to be hanging around a dark park together after midnight.

And when’s the last time we’ve done what’s appropriate? he asked.

I smiled but stood my ground.

What are you afraid of? You are filled with the sound of the fucking Earth, Claire, you can do anything, you can be and say and do whatever you want because you have felt it, you have touched it, and you know how good it can be.