I glance around at my empty house, pulling a face at the boxes. In most houses there’s probably Christmas presents and I get packing boxes, reminding me that I’m going to have to make a huge decision soon. “Yeah, like what?” I trot up the stairs, slipping off my coat.

“I don’t know.” She hesitates. “Actually, I do have something to tell you, but I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.”

I kick my bedroom door open with my foot and toss my coat onto my bed. “Should I be worried?” I stuff my hand into the pocket of my jeans, take out the bag, and stare at it with a familiar needy burn inside my chest. What do I do with this? Throw it away? Keep it? Devour it?

“Well, I’d say no,” she says as I clasp my hand around the bag, my palms coated with sweat. “But I might be wrong.”

“Okay, well, tell me. I think I can handle it.” Such a lie, especially since I have a bag of crystal in my hand, waiting to soothe me if I need it. But I don’t want to need it. I just want to be free, yet I can’t let it go.

“I have some of your sketches,” she blurts out.

“What? How?” My hand tightens around the bag as I try to focus on Nova and not it.

“Because when I went back to look for you after you’d disappeared in Vegas… I picked some up off of your bedroom floor.”

“Why would you do that?” I wonder, not upset, but a little puzzled.

“Because I was worried they’d be lost if I didn’t,” she explains. “And I know they’re important to you.”

I sink down on my bed, staring at the empty spot on the wall where the photo I took down used to be. “What were they of?”

“Um… you… me…” She catches her breath. “Lexi.”

Elongated silence follows. I’m not sure how to react to hearing her say Lexi’s name. It feels warped and wrong, but at the same time I can’t get mad at her. In fact, the idea of yelling at her is impossible.

As I sift through my emotions, trying to figure out what I feel, I distractedly put the bag of meth underneath my mattress beside Nova’s unopened letter. “I don’t know what to say,” I tell her as I get up from the bed. “I mean, I’m sort of glad you have them, because they’re my sketches and everything, but still… I drew them when I was high.” High on the same thing I just hid under my mattress. Jesus, I just need to find a way to throw it away. I never should have taken it to begin with.

“That’s okay. I just wanted you to know that I have them in case you want them back,” she says. “I could mail them to you if you want me to.”

“No, hold on to them.” I grab a pair of pajama bottoms and a T-shirt and head for the shower, needing to get space from the crystal. Plus, the walk home was freezing and I need to thaw out, wash the crappy day off me.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I push open the bathroom door and shut it behind me, releasing a breath of relief at the distance. I didn’t even realize what it was doing to my body and mind just having it on me. So heavy and weighted. Such a burden.

I turn on the faucet water, letting it warm up, then unbutton my pants. I decide to get rid of the crystal when I get out of the shower. Then I won’t choose the empty path.

“What’s that noise?” Nova asks.

“I turned the shower on,” I tell her, even though I don’t really want to get off the phone with her. Just talking to her… well, I’ve calmed down a lot. “I was outside working and I’m frozen to the bone and filthy.”

“Oh.” She pauses, then asks, “Are you going to talk to me while you take a shower?”

I’m unzipping my pants but pause, trying to decipher if there’s a hidden meaning to her words. If she’s just asking a simple question or trying to be dirty with me. She never usually is, so I don’t have a clue how to read her. “Do you want me to keep talking to you?”

She wavers with uncertainty. “Well, I don’t want to stop talking to you, so…”

I still can’t read her at all. “But the phone will get wet.”

“Put it on speakerphone and set it close to the shower,” she suggests, and I can detect the slightest bit of nervousness in her voice, which makes me wonder what she’s thinking. “And turn the volume all the way up.”

“But won’t it be weird?”

“Why would it be weird?”

“Because I’d be… taking a shower while we were talking.”

“Yeah, so?” The nervousness in her voice is more attractive to me than it should be.

I’m definitely starting to get the impression that she’s not just being naïve about the situation. That she knows exactly what she’s doing and is enjoying herself. I hesitate. I know I’m being a fucking pussy about it, which is weird because I’ve slept with a lot of women over the last couple of years. But I barely knew any of them and there was no emotional connection. Plus, I was always either drunk or high. Being sober is different because I can feel. Everything. And the whole point to having sex, at least in the past, was to numb myself. Plus, I just brought drugs home with me, which makes me feel like a dick because she doesn’t know that.

“But I can let you go if you want me to,” she says, almost saddened.

It’s her sadness that makes me say what I say next. “No, it’s fine… we can keep talking.” I start to get undressed. “Tell me more about your band,” I say, hoping to sidetrack myself from how unsteady I feel at the moment, wobbling on the tightrope, about to fall.

“There’s not much to tell, really,” she replies. “It’s just three guys and myself hanging out in a garage most of the time.”

“It sounds like I should be jealous.” I shuck off my shirt while holding the phone, which is difficult, but I manage to get it done.

“Of the band? Nah, they’re harmless. Besides, I think they think of me as one of the guys.”

“I doubt that.” I set the phone down on the countertop beside the shower, then turn up the volume.

“If you say so,” she says with uncertainty. “But anyway. There is something pretty cool happening.”

“And what’s that?” I raise my voice as I pull the shower curtain back.

“We got our very first gig,” she tells me as I step into the shower. Her voice fades a little but I can still hear her, even when I step under the stream of water. “And I’m not talking about playing at some club because it’s open band night. I’m talking about opening for another band because we were chosen to. How cool is that?” She sounds so happy.

I smile as I let the water run over my body. “Pretty fucking cool.” I rub the water away from my eyes. “Who’s the band?”

“Peaceful Injustice.”

“Never heard of them.”

“Yeah, they’re not that well known, but I love them. In fact, I have a huge band crush on them.”

I reach for the soap, her comment deflating my mood. “Sounds like I should be worried.”

“Nah. I promise you have nothing to worry about.” Silence takes over the line, but I can hear her softly breathing if I strain my ears and listen. “What are you doing right now?”

I pause, so many dirty responses racing through my mind I can’t even think straight. “Taking a shower.”

“Yeah, I know, but…” She trails off, breathing profusely. “But what exactly are you doing at this very moment?” She sounds really fascinated, which makes me wonder what she’s thinking.

I think about telling her that I’m touching myself and thinking about her. Starting something up because it’s been a while since I’ve gotten any. God, just thinking about it turns me on, but at the same time, do I want to go there yet? “I’m not sure…”

“You’re not sure what you’re doing?’ She sounds lost.

After some more internal conflict, I decide to just spit out what’s floating around in my head. “Nova, I’m picking up this vibe from you and I’m not sure but… it sounds like…” I swipe my hand across my face, wiping the water away. “It sounds like you’re trying to have phone sex.” And just like that I’ve changed everything and I have no idea how it even happened. One minute I’m freaking out, and the next I’m calmed down and all I can think about is her.

She doesn’t respond right away and I worry I’ve read her wrong.

“Jesus, I didn’t mean that,” I say, feeling like a moron. “Please, just forget about it. Please.”

“I don’t want to forget about it.” Her voice is uneven. Scared. Nervous. All of her insecurities are showing. “I just don’t know what to say… I’m not an expert at this.”

“At phone sex?” There’s a hint of amusement in my voice that accidentally slips out.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me.” She tries to sound offended, but I can tell she’s on the verge of laughing. “I’m in no way an expert at this… any of this, actually. The last time I came close to even doing anything with a guy was… well, with you, at the lake.”

She’s being so honest it shocks me. But what really shocks me is that she hasn’t been with anyone else since then, which would also mean she’s still a virgin. That no guy has touched her the way I did since we made out in the lake. It makes me feel twistedly happy, but at the same time sad, because that isn’t the best memory in the world. For her or for me.

“I’m not sure what to say,” I tell her as I rinse my face off in the water.

“Do you think I’m a freak?” she asks. “Because I haven’t done anything.”

“Not at all. I don’t even think I could ever think of you as a freak, no matter how goofy you got.”

“Then what do you think of me?” The nervousness in her voice reemerges and I think it’s a signal that she wants to head down that road, which makes me both wary and eager. Makes me want to hang up, but at the same time push the conversation further. This is Nova. If there’s anyone in the world I’d want to be doing stuff with sober, it’s her. Yeah, I probably don’t deserve her, but I want her. So fucking badly.