I’ve never played an electric. The strings are thicker and feel like they will leave my fingers bruised, but I don’t mind. I play the song I wrote about my dad, the angry one, and I almost cry, but I don’t. I bite my cheek and strum hard like it’s just part of the song, until I can pull it together and sing again. I don’t care that Lion Boy is watching; it feels like being me to play this guitar. I finish the song and he asks me to play another one. I play Lay Lady Lay.

“Did you write that too?” he asks when I’m done.

“Dylan did,” I say, laughing.

“Does he go here?”

“He’s in our lit class,” I say, because I don’t know how to explain Dylan to someone who doesn’t know.

Lion Boy slides his fingers under my hair and kisses me. I don’t even know his name. His mouth tastes like sour beer and something burnt, but it’s actually kind of nice to be kissed. He grabs the guitar from me and lays it in its case. We lie on his bed and kiss for ages. It takes him forever to work through all my layers of clothes. It’s hot and sweaty and my skin sticks to his. He falls asleep before we really do anything. We’re just lying there in our underwear groping each other and he drifts off, lips still pursed, arm over my waist. He snores a little, wrinkles his nose a few times. He looks so peaceful. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that peaceful in my life.

When I’m sure he’s not going to wake up, I lift his arm and sneak out from under it. I throw clothes on and sprint to the bathroom. On the way, I peek down the stairs. Everyone is gone except for the girl in the belly shirt and her boyfriend. He’s holding his hand to his forehead. She’s crying hard.

I decide I can probably get away with a shower. I wad up like twenty sheets of toilet paper to remove the hair from the drain. I make the water so hot that my skin feels like it’ll burn up and peel off. Use someone’s Head & Shoulders and wash the bar of soap hard before sudsing up my body. When I’m done, I realize that touching any towel in the bathroom will interfere with my clean state, so I use one of my flannel shirts instead. I poke around and find a hair dryer under the sink. Use my fingers as a brush and do the best I can to untangle all the knots and blow my hair out straight, so it won’t look messy in the morning.