I know, I said. And I kissed him back. He hovered his lips over my neck, as he slid his fingers down below my waistband. We made our way, fumblingly, back towards the bed, and tumbled down onto it, lips locked. He began pulling off my underwear, and I helped him, pushing it down my legs with my left foot. It felt strange to be aware of both the hum and Paul’s panting. I tried to tune out the hum, and focus only on our sharp, quaking exhales. Our grunts. On the moisture of our bodies. The smacking of our skin. I let myself get lost in these sounds—until my phone buzzed with a text on the bedside table. I ignored it, and tried focusing again on his breath, focusing on the sound of our bodies, until another buzz followed, and another. I slammed my hand down over my phone.

Paul stopped. For fuck’s sake, he muttered, a drop of sweat sliding off his brow onto my cheek.

Sorry.

Can’t you turn it off?

I turned over and glanced at the texts. My stomach plunged.

Who’s messaging you at eleven at night?

I brought the phone close against my body to block Paul’s view of the screen. It’s Cass, I lied. She and Aldo are going through a rough patch. Paul asked what the trouble was, and I shook my head as I read through the texts. Sorry, I’ll tell you later, I said, I just need to call her. She’s in a state.

Well maybe you can tell her we’re in a bit of a state ourselves.

I’m sorry, I said, rising from the bed, and pulling on my nightgown.

We’re having sex for the first time in a century, and she’s making you take a fucking call.

He lay back in bed like a hot dog dropped from a bun.

I know, I’m sorry, I said again, tying the sash around my waist, and making for the door.

You have all goddamn day to talk with each other at school.

I’ll be five minutes!

And what, I’m supposed to just sit here and keep the engine running, he said, dolefully stroking his erection.

Five minutes, I repeated, closing the door behind me.

I slipped out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and into the dining room, my phone the only illumination in the darkness, as I sat down on a chair and dialed the number. As the call rang through, I thought of Paul and his penis upstairs, that sorry scene. I heard a click, and then breathing on the other end of the line.

Hello?

Hey. Kyle’s voice was clipped and tight.

What’s going on, are you okay?

I just needed to talk to you.

I closed my eyes. We agreed you’d only message in an emergency, I said.

I know, but—