Or are you off that, too? Leaning to brush Xie’s hair from his ear, swift shift onto one knee, pressing Xie against the door, wet mouth catching his. Xie whimpers, arm against Alias’s chest. What? Alias says. Come on. Leaning into him. You got something better waiting for you at home? Hm? Saving up? Reaching to feel Xie’s crotch and Xie gags, hard, Alias jerking away, arm up, The fuck is wrong with you? Xie curling against the door, eyes squeezed shut. The snow gathers on the glass. Alias rubbing his lips on the back of his hand. Bitter smile. Not into it, huh. Too bad. The car as cold inside as it is outside, low whistle of wind as Alias opens the door, unfolding into the dark. Good luck saving the planet, farmer, he says. Xie wiping his mouth on the inside of his hoodie. Tremble all over. Waiting for the girls and then they come at last, jogging half frozen to the car. We saw Alias come out this way, Leni says, panting. Did he follow you? He doesn’t answer. Jo and Leni exchanging a look. Did he? Xie tucks his chin into the neck of his hoodie. No, he says. They turn onto the road. Jo’s eyes in the mirror, her hand on Leni’s thigh. At home, in the attic, your arms around the bones, you know you will never be in another bed, with another body. Living or dead. The smell of smoke in your clothes. Like something burned up for good.

Monday morning a little late but Karen not there yet. He waits at their table, eyes on the parking lot. Ten minutes pass. Fifteen. Twenty. Tapping his pencil over his notebook. P. in her seat. Boots crossed in Xie’s face. Can almost see. Up his skirt. Where is she. P.’s shrug. How should I know. Greg beckons him from the front desk. Holds the phone. Xie jumping up to take it. Karen saying, Sorry, I’m going to be late. Could you go over your essay for Mead’s class and fix all the comma stuff so I don’t have to do it? Her voice on some sort of edge. He agrees. Back to the table. P. now in Xie’s seat. Xie sits on top of him. Taking a guess at the commas. Erase some, add others. P.’s hands on his hips. Will you. Stop. Karen will be here any minute and. The clock says almost noon. If something is wrong with Karen then it’s like a punishment, for not taking this seriously. P. catching this thought, Now you are thinking like a Christian. Shut up. Scrubbing his eyes. Why don’t I know where the fucking commas go. Come, P. says, walking to the bathroom, huge, cape grazing the carpet. Inside the bathroom full light. Fingers at Xie’s belt, Xie’s back against the filthy wall. Hands on P.’s shoulders, cold metal; remember how it was, when he was behind glass and you could not. Touch him. All this still just a dream. P. drawing him out. Tugging. Xie not breathing. Over in a minute, come sliding down the fold of P.’s skirt, pearl on silver, on gold. Fingers on his neck. There are twenty-seven bones in the human hand and you have kissed every one. P. cleaning himself in the mirror. Xie shivers. Zips up. When Alias does whatever it is he does, with boys or girls or whoever, he must imagine it’s like this, that he is like P., capable of giving pleasure just by existing. All those eyes around the fire, admiring him, wanting him. And yet he followed you. How stupid can a person be. P. gone. Dark inside the bathroom without him; they hadn’t turned on the light. When he comes out Karen is there, looking at his essay, jacket skewed over her shoulders, as if she put it on in a hurry. Karen, he says, and she turns. Pale. Hi, she says. Come outside with me for a minute. Xie follows her to her car, in the corner of the parking lot, Karen leaning against the hood. Hands in her coat pockets. He offers her a carrot; she refuses. You eat like a horse. Not as much as a horse, but literally like a horse. Xie shrugs. Yeah, well, horses are pretty healthy. Both of them quiet for a while. The muscles in her jaw keep twitching. He gestures with his elbow to her stomach. Shy. Can’t quite say, How is it, how are you. Karen squints.