Part 5 (2/2)

”I have Aaron's car keys,” she says. ”Let's go get some cigarettes.”

”Okay.” I calmly stand up. She grabs a hold of my left arm as we walk toward the door; I look at her, but she's looking straight ahead.

Her grip is tight, but not limp. She's keeping very close to me.

I open the door and we walk down the steps; she pulls out Aaron's keys and points up the hill. ”He says it's right on this street.”

”Okay.” We start up the street.

”Hey guys. Hey, wait up!”

Both of us turn around. It's Felix, coming down the steps from the house. ”We're just going on a cigarette run,” Pris tells him.

”I need some too.”

”We'll get you some,” I tell him, furious.

”Oh come on,” he says, laughing. ”Don't leave me behind!”

I hear Pris sigh. I'm about to tell him no, but he's on the other side of Pris and she has taken his arm. ”I don't want to come back,” she says. ”Aaron said we can take the car and he'll pick it up tomorrow.”

”Did you talk to Tom?” Felix asks her.

”Yes.” Her voice is venomous.

”What did he say?”

”He . . . he said . . .” Pris stops in her tracks, sucking in a sudden breath. Tears leak out of her eyes, rolling down her face. Before I have a chance to react, Felix throws his arms around her and she stands clinging to him with one arm, crying on his shoulder. You b.a.s.t.a.r.d, I think to myself. Felix asked her that because he knew it'd make her start crying. He knew it would. He did it just so he could hold her. But I notice her other hand still has a hold of my left arm and it's squeezing tightly. Reflex, I wonder, or because she wants me near her, too? d.a.m.n you, Felix! Her and I would have been alone!

Pris pulls away from Felix, takes a breath, and says, ”Cigarettes.

Please.” We continue up the road. After a block I spot Aaron's white Mercedes 250 SL, and as we reach it Pris hands me the keys. I unlock the driver's side door and open it for her. She slides in, reaching out and unlocking the other side for Felix. I pull the chocolate out of my pocket, get into the car, close the door, then put the chocolate into her hand. ”This'll hold you over until we get your cigarettes,” I tell her.

”No thanks,” she says, handing it back. ”I've had too much already.”

”You did?”

”Felix had a whole pocket full.”

I start the car and pull violently away from the curb before Felix has a chance to shut his door. He's in the front seat, too, right on the other side of her. I wish he had fallen out. I wish he had fallen out and a cable car had run over his head. You, I think as I glance at him, are no longer any friend of mine.

We stop at the mini-market and Felix and Pris go inside and buy their cigarettes. When they come back out to the car she's crying again, already puffing away; she stands outside a moment with Felix, Felix holding her, her smoking, smoke blowing everywhere, then she pulls away and opens the door and climbs slowly into the car. Followed by Felix. I have to act like I still like him, I realize, or Pris will wonder why I'm mad. Then she might realize I'm jealous, and then she'll probably look at me as the same sort of emotional vulture that Felix has become.

This time I pull away from the curb less violently. Pris hasn't said where she wants to go, so I drive randomly, eating the chocolate I bought for her while she and Felix smoke. Felix has left his arm ”consolingly” over her shoulder. After a few minutes, Pris leans over and rests her head against him.

I sigh. What's the use? Felix got to her with the chocolate first, now she's his. ”Where am I going?” I ask.

”Want to go to a bar?” Felix asks.

”No.” Pris sounds like she's half asleep.

”No?” Felix says. ”Why not?”

”Let's go to my house,” she says.

”Okay.” I bite my lower lip. ”Where is your house?”

She gives me directions as I drive, and after twenty minutes or so I bring the big, heavy German car sliding to a stop. Her apartment house is dark; everyone is either asleep or not home. ”Come on up,” she says, looking at me.

”Are you sure you----”

”Come on,” she says. ”I'll fix you something to eat.”

Felix is already out of the car, and I'll be d.a.m.ned if I'm going to leave her alone with him. I shut off the engine and climb out, locking all four doors of the car when I turn the key --- a feature that gives you a little thrill of power --- then follow Pris and Felix up the stairs and into the apartment house. Felix excuses himself, heading directly to the bathroom.

I follow Pris into her room, which used to be a living room back before the house had been converted into apartments. The house itself must be over a hundred years old. The room is large and very San Francisco-ish, with ornate molding and high doors and wide bay windows.

Her closet is a pole between two stands in a corner by her large bed.

Pris turns around and looks up at me. ”This has been a s.h.i.+tty day.”

”I'll bet. Is there anything I can do?”

”Hold me.” She leans forward and puts her face against my s.h.i.+rt. I put my arms around her, pulling her closer, and she slides her little Pris-arms around my waist and holds on, squeezing. We stand there silently hugging for about three minutes, then Felix comes wandering in.

”Hey,” he says. ”Where's mine?”

Pris pulls only one arm away from her grip and beckons to him. He comes forward, embracing both of us. It has become a group hug.

Tottering, we lose our balance, and all three of us fall like a tree onto her bed, then lie there laughing about it. n.o.body gets back up.

Eventually Felix and Pris fall asleep huddled together against me; she's in the middle, facing me, her legs wrapped around one of mine. I find it impossible to sleep with her so near . . . it's too exciting.

This means she prefers me to him, doesn't it? Her facing me, with her arms and legs around me? I might as well push him off the bed. I don't, though. I just lie there awake, feel her breath against my cheek, feeling her heart beating against my arm. I'm so happy it almost hurts.

There's no way I can sleep, no way at all.

Dawn breaks and fills the room with light. I'm still awake, but just barely. The cube, I realize, is in my s.h.i.+rt pocket; I pull it out and unfold it and lie there staring at it. Occasionally I'll get a glimpse of the extra dimension. I've found that if I stare at it without blinking for a long time my eyes will go out of focus, something s.h.i.+fts, a stabbing pain shoots through my head, and suddenly the cube is impossibly intricate and my hands seem to be melting. At this point I always have to blink and the sight goes away.

When I thought the cube was bending light I was actually starting to see this.

My eyelids get heavy, and either the cube or the alcohol has given me a headache. It's time to close my eyes. I put the cube back into my pocket so that Felix doesn't wake up and see it, then, gently, I place my hand on Priscilla's left breast. Keep my eyes closed, pretend I'm asleep; she'll think I didn't know I'd put it there. It's so soft, so warm. My heart is beating like it's about to pop a valve, and it won't stop. I feel guilty, now, molesting her in her sleep . . . I pull my hand away, place it on her stomach, no, down further, rest it on the curve of her hip. Innocent enough. My heart rate comes slowly down along with my blood pressure. Relax, I tell myself. Relax.

She moves slightly, and makes a girlish sound. I open my eyes, look at her beautiful, peaceful face. Her eyes open for a second, stare unfocused directly into mine, then close again. She makes another sound, moves, sighs. I sigh too, feeling privileged, and grudgingly let my eyes close again. I want to keep watching, but my lids won't cooperate.

What now? Sleep? No, I won't sleep, I'll just have to stay up. I've got a cla.s.s in Berkeley at 10:00 AM. Teaching 20-year-olds about lizards, snakes, frogs, and turtles. Jesus.

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