“I can only imagine what goes on in that head of yours…” he teased. “I assure you I haven’t taken up black magic, ritualistic sacrifice, or—”“Plushophilia?” I tagged on.“Excuse me?…” came his half-confused, half-intrigued reaction.“An obsession with stuffed animals,” I clarified. “I mean, you are a young one…”“Where did you come up with that?” He kept his hands firmly covering my eyes, but I could hear the amused smile in his voice. “Is that even a real word?”“I’m a doctor, I know these things,” I shrugged.”

“Tell me something,” he said in a low voice.“Anything,” I answered.“What’s it like to have every breath count?”I sat up and braced myself on my hand. “I’m not following what you mean,” I answered.Jess pulled himself up and propped his hands behind him. He looked out at the water as if he were seeing something from his past. “To live life as if it’s your last breath. To know that any minute could be the final one and that you have to make the most of what’s given to you. To know not everything is forever.”I could see the defined muscles in his arm, but what caught my attention the most was the bottom half of the symbol just under the sleeve of his shirt. Like before, I reached my finger and traced the snake resting on the stem. Sliding his sleeve higher, I followed upward toward the pedals of the black rose.“It bothers you, doesn’t it? The fact that you’re constantly reminded of...” I couldn’t finish what I wanted to say. I didn’t want to hurt him.He looked over his shoulder, and I stopped what I was doing to look up at him. “Yeah, it bothers me. But you know what bothers me even more? You’re not like me. You can take a final breath.”

“I wish I could hate you," he said. His voice was light, his mouth curved in an unconcerned half smile, his eyes sick with misery. "I want to hate you. I try to hate you. It would be so much easier if I did hate you. Sometimes I do hate you and then I see you and I...”

“He stared at me. "She liked you, boy." The intensity of his voice and eyes made me blink."Yes," I said."She did it for you, you know.""What?""Gave up her self, for a while there. She loved you that much. What an incredibly lucky kid you were."I could not look at him. "I know."He shook his head with a wistful sadness. "No, you don't. You can't know yet. Maybe someday..."I knew he was tempted to say more. Probably to tell me how stupid I was, how cowardly, that I blew the bestchance I would ever have. But his smile returned, and his eyes were tender again, and nothing harsherthan cherry smoke came out of his mouth.”

“Then he paused, and I could tell that whatever he was going to say was really important. There was even a chance he might use more than five words to say it. "Or maybe your magic isn't destructive after all. The rain of Doritos, the bed things, this...Maybe it's just that you create too big, you know?"When I could find my voice, I said, "Cal, that might be the nicest thing anyone's said to me since we got here."He twirled one of the naked roots between his finger and didn't meet my eyes. "It's true." The he glanced up and gazve one of those half smiles I was really starting to like.”

“His hands uncupped himself and he stared downward. It was a long while before he spoke, and when he did, his words were slow and considered … and as ceaseless as his quiet tears. “I wish I were whole. I wish I could have given you young if you’d wanted them and could conceive them. I wish I could have told you that it killed me when you thought I had been with anyone else. I wish I had spent the last year waking up every night and telling you I loved you. I wish I had mated you properly the evening you came back to me from the dead. I wish …” Now his shimmering stare flipped up to hers. “I wish I were half as strong as you are and I wish I deserved you. And … that’s about it.”