I don’t tell James they were a gift from Becky, but I do say: I had them, just in case. You know. Because it seemed like the right thing to do, but I didn’t really think of him as someone who might need to use them because…

Disappointment, James says. You had this idea of how things would go and that changed.

But what if one of the guys he’s fooled around with is sick? I say as I watch the smoke dance around the ceiling, What if he’s caught something? What if condoms aren’t enough, anyhow? What if even kissing someone is enough to get infected?

James pauses, and I expect him to say something along the lines of, Well, then, we’re all fucked. But instead, he quietly says, And now you understand where I am.

Is it horrible that I still think I’m in love with him? I ask after a minute.

Of course not. Besides, ultimately, everything is about love, James says, taking the joint from me. He takes a hit, then stubs it out, says, Friends. Family. Even art.

You really think so? I ask, the pot making me brave.

Sometimes I think I’m in love with the whole world, he says, looking up at me through his lashes as if he’s confessing something. Maybe that’s part of the problem, I’m terrified of missing out on what comes next. When I heard about Steven…

It’s like it’s real now, I interrupt.

It was always real, Michael. Don’t fool yourself.

I know the joint has gone to my head, but still I’m aware James and I have never spoken this way before. Not really.

He fiddles with a strand of crystal beads around his wrist and says, The way I look at it, you have your sights set on someone who cares enough to try to protect you. There are worse things.

The hitch in his voice makes me wonder if Steven knew he was sick and almost had sex with James, anyhow. And what that would have meant.

I do admire Gabriel, James continues, for being honest with you, but I’m the last person who can tell you what to do.

I try to decide whether I agree with James or not. Maybe out of everyone, he’s actually the best person to tell me what to do. Before I can argue, though, James shrugs and says, Perhaps you should be asking Becky, and then we both dissolve in sad, stoned laughter.

I go home. I have to go home because if I’m not there when my parents get back, who knows what will happen.

But everything has changed. I see Gabriel’s indentation on my pillow. Find his hair in the shower. Smell his soap on my sheets.

And I realize that even Echo is off limits until I get my head together.

Where is left for me?

I avoid the phone. But every time it rings, I *69 it to see who called, knowing there will be hell to pay when my parents get the bill.