Back at his parents’ apartment,
I ask Adam if he’s been with anyone.
He says none of that matters,
he’s here with me.
I tell him just the sight of him
makes things feel calmer.
Easier.
I straddle him on his perfectly made bed.
My hair curtains his face,
his eyes are closed,
and I’m drunk enough not to care
that we’re no longer together,
drunk enough to say
one of the things I have to share.
I tell him I wanted to lose my virginity to him
before he left but—
He interrupts me, says
there’s no time like the present.
Puts a lock of hair behind my ear.
Traces a heart with his finger on my knee.
My head spins.
I wonder, if I let him in,
if he could light me, even from a distance,
the way the moon is only bright
because it bathes in the sun’s light.
Or how sailors look to the North Star
to guide them, give direction.
Maybe Adam could be that for me again.
I look down, up into his eyes.
Nod my head.
And for a minute,
my head buzzing with beer,
all I want is for Adam to
pour himself into me.
His face floats above me,
so close, so familiar,
but all I can see is James, lying naked, on my parents’ bed.
And I can’t.
I push Adam off.
Tell him no.
He grumbles
geez, Mira, you’re going to have to grow up sometime.
I tell him growing up sucks.
He shrugs. Doesn’t agree.
The heat clicks on, deafening
Adam’s harsh words—
they float out
into
the howling
December winds.
I follow.