Saint John of the Five Boroughs. Ed Falco

at her like gravity. It seemed to Avery sometimes—she knew this, she had thought about this—that there wasn’t one thing about her life that was hers. Sometimes she thought she hated her friends and was only with them because, what else? Sometimes she thought she would give anything if she didn’t feel she had to be what Kate needed her to be, for Kate, not for her, not for Avery. She didn’t want any of it sometimes, and lately it was most of the time, and something about Grant was like all that dark music when she was a teenager. She felt pulled to him, even after what he’d done, even after that.

      She liked it. She came. Was that who she was? That moment, that hinge, when she might have tried to stop him, when she might have fought, what was that about, the way she threw herself into him instead? She might as well have screamed like an animal, she might as well have clawed and bitten. And Grant—He wanted to rip her open. She could still feel him in her belly, the way he pulled her apart. Was that who she was? Even now in the warmth of her bed, her head buried under a pillow, the thought of it made her heartbeat quicken. She had clung to him on the back of his bike while the night softened to day, and by the time he let her off it was light and she walked away from him, his face hidden behind a black shield.

      At the sound of someone knocking on her door, Avery yanked another pillow over her head and burrowed into the sheets, pulling her knees up to her belly as if she might knot up into a tiny ball and disappear. “Hey,” Melanie said, her voice inside the room. “Bitch,” she said, and she sat on the bed. “Are you getting up today or what? It’s like eleven o’clock.”

      Avery turned over and peered out from between the pillows. Melanie had on baggy gym shorts and a blue T-shirt with Nittany Lions scrolled in white letters over her heart. The girl smelled like perfumed soap and shampoo, her hair damp, her skin pink and shower-fresh.

      Melanie said, “Zach’s called twice already this morning. What did you do, throw him out?”

      “Sort of,” Avery said. “Not really.” She pulled herself upright, her back against the headboard, and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

      “Sort of?” Melanie said. “You sort of threw Zach Snow out of your bed?” She pulled up the shuttered blinds and let a flood of sunlight into the room.

      Avery covered her face with her arms.

      Melanie sat on the edge of the bed. “Did you throw him out like he was a pig or something? What happened?”

      Avery gave up and took her hands away from her face. “I didn’t throw him out. You said that. I didn’t say I threw him out.”

      “So! What? What happened?”

      “Nothing happened.” Avery slid down under the covers again and settled her head on the pillow. “I just didn’t feel like waking up with him in the morning.”

      “I get up first,” Melanie said. “I’m like, no way I’m letting a guy see me first thing in the morning. Plus,” she added, “morning breath.”

      Avery said, “You get up and brush your teeth and wash your face before the guy’s even awake?”

      “I fix my makeup too,” she said, and added, “Oh, like you’ve never done that!”

      Avery said, “Jesus, Melanie, I’m—” She was starting to say that she was still half asleep and hadn’t even gotten out of bed and wasn’t ready for this conversation. She thought she might ask Melanie sweetly if she could manage to go away—but she stopped when she realized she was glad Melanie was there chattering at her.

      Melanie said, “Yes?” and then added, apparently startled by a sudden thought, “He didn’t want you to do something that was, like—”

      Avery said, “Oh, just stop, please.” There was a loud knock at the door and Melanie bounced up and ran to answer it, as if she were expecting someone special. Avery slid down in the bed and pulled the covers over her head, giving herself a moment in the warmth and darkness before Melanie came back into the room with Dee.

      Dee yelled, “You’re so bad!” and jumped on Avery, smothering her with a hug before rolling over and sitting up beside her. She straightened herself out and said, as if she’d just remembered she was mad, “You bitches ditched me! I’m like, Where are my girls?” She looked back and forth from Avery to Melanie. “Where’d you go?”

      “We got sidetracked,” Melanie said.

      Avery said, “Wound up at a different party.”

      “Bitches,” Dee said to both of them, and then, as if done with the anger, she said to Avery, “Is that where you met Zach? It’s like, already I must have had like five phone calls and they’re all, Avery and Zach, Avery and Zach. He told Leslie he’s in love with you.”

      Avery said, “Who’s Leslie?”

      Dee said, “Friend. So? Did you sleep with him? Because he’s telling people you did.”

      “He’s telling people I slept with him?”

      “You didn’t?”

      Melanie laughed and said, “Right, she didn’t sleep with him.”

      “Of course I slept with him, it’s just—”

      “Avery!” Dee said. “Zach Snow!”

      Avery said, “Why? Is he like—”

      “He’s gorgeous!” Dee said. “Not to mention he’ll get drafted and be megarich like a week after he graduates.”

      Melanie said, “Avery doesn’t think that way.”

      Dee said, “I think that way.”

      Melanie said to Avery, “I think they’re both gorgeous, don’t you? Zach and Grant?”

      Dee said, “Who?”

      Melanie said to Avery, “Wasn’t he unbelievably intense? Oh my God!”

      “Who’s Grant?” Dee shouted.

      Avery said, “Melanie’s date last night.”

      Dee said, “You both—What was this, like orgy night?”

      Melanie said, “Please.” To Avery she said, “He’s thirty-three! Can you believe it?”

      “He told you his age?” Avery sat up and crossed her arms over her chest.

      “Why wouldn’t he tell me his age? I’m into older men—”

      “Oh, puh-lease,” Dee said, “like you’re all about older men. Who was this guy?” she asked Avery.

      Avery said, “I thought he was a little creepy, actually.”

      Dee said, “Is he good-looking?”

      “I think he’s gorgeous,” Melanie said. To Avery she said, “He’s got like a perfect body, don’t you think?”

      Avery said, “When did he tell you his age?”

      “Son of a bitch,” Dee said.

      Avery said to Melanie, “You asked him in bed how old he was?”

      “I don’t think it was in bed. We got busy in bed.”

      “Oh, fuck you,” Dee said with a wiggle of her shoulders, meaning Melanie was all proud of herself. “So was he good?”

      “At first—” Melanie started. Then she stopped and smiled, as if luxuriating in the memory. “At first he was all, I don’t know, like in some other place or something.” She seemed to think a moment, looking for the right way to explain him. She had Dee and Avery’s attention. “I think he’s like really deep,” she said, “because I’m—There was nothing happening at first, you know? I’m like in bed with him, Hello? I’m over here?”

      Dee said, “What was he doing? Gazing at the ceiling?”

      “Really,”