Through the molten, melted flesh that separates them, I feel the throb and thicken of their own gathering orgasms. Lyot is sliding down the hood of the car, his head thrown back, legs braced as Gale leans in and seizes the rhythm.
I’m captured, claimed, with nowhere left to go. Every particle of my body is already lush and incandescent with rapture, but when they spill in tandem, I follow, and the flood annihilates the last barriers of my flesh and fills the space between the stars.
38
Gia
On the last day of break, my mother insists on driving me back to the dorms. Lyot and Gale take my car, swinging by Jo’s on their way to grab Lyot’s things. Jo has offered to let Gale stay in Lyot’s old room until he figures out a long-term solution, but since I have a single and Celeste can’t stop me from having guests in the dorm, I’m expecting him to spend most nights there with me and Lyot.
My mom is quiet for the first half of the drive, making me increasingly nervous as I scroll through my Spotify, testing out a few songs from the new playlist I’ve been putting together. The fresh truce between us is still fragile, and this requested time alone together feels like a potential ambush.
“Looking for a new routine song?” she asks, breaking the silence.
“Yes.”
“Are you and Gale working on a new act already?”
“Actually”—I glance at her profile—“we’re working on a trio act with Lyot.”
“That could be quite innovative,” she says, and the hint of approval in her tone eases some of my defensiveness.
“I hope so. Assuming we have enough time to develop it now that…” I trail off. We’ve had two weeks of blissful denial, but I know Gale’s new reality probably won’t include unlimited hours of creative time in the studio.
“Now that Gale is on his own?” she asks. I look at her in surprise. “That boy’s situation was never much of a secret, darling, and frankly, I’ve always found it distasteful.”
“That’s over now,” I tell her, unable to hide my fierce pride.
“Of course it is. He’s obviously quite devoted to you, but I can only assume Celeste did not take the rejection gracefully.”
“Not really,” I admit.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. I spoke to her this morning.”
“You what? Why? We had it handled.”
“You’re always so determinedly independent, darling, and I know it’s difficult for you to accept help. But you’ve been doing so well with Gale, I felt it necessary to intervene.”
“What exactly did you do?”
“I let Celeste know that your father and I expect Gale to continue to partner with you at ACCA, for as long as you want him to. At least until he graduates. That if anything prevented him from dedicating his time to that purpose, we would be very displeased.” She shrugs one shoulder and flashes me a smile. Not the public one for press conferences and winners’ platforms, but the other one. The backstage smile full of malicious confidence, meant to dismantle the competition. The one I’m sure she was wearing during her phone call with Celeste. It makes me shiver even though, this time, it’s on my side.
“Does Gale know?”
“Of course, darling. Your father spoke to him this afternoon before he left. We couldn’t have him squatting in your room all term. You need your rest.”
“You do realize he’s only five floors away?”
“Yes. Where he will now remain.”
The old, reflexive part of me wants to be angry at her, throwing her weight around and trying to control my life as always. But I remember Gale’s face when Celeste put her hand under the table at Beauty and Essex, and the glow in his eyes as he lay under the needle and the last liberated dragon took flight on his skin. When we pull up to the curb in front of the dorms, I hug my mother for the first time in forever, and it feels like forgiveness.
The lounge is crowded with my returning classmates and the tight excitement of youth once again free of parental oversight. I don’t see either of my men, but Jules and Vaya are curled into a huge leather easy chair on the far side, telltale mugs of what I’m sure is their favorite spiked coffee clutched in their hands. Vaya waves excitedly when I catch her eye, nudging Jules hard enough to earn an exasperated look and a quick shift of her drink to avoid spilling it all over the both of them. I send a quick text to Lyot.
Where are you?
I start toward my friends, eager in spite of myself to update them with the latest news. Vaya will no doubt try to pump me for every deviant detail of my latest sexual escapades, and listening to her wild guesses when I refuse to divulge more than hints is always entertaining. Not to mention she sometimes has ideas that might make even Gale blush. My phone pings with Lyot’s reply.
Studio. Get your ass over here. ;)
