Death by Trance

What can I say? These massives are really massive.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yes," I say, even though I mean "no" because I feel guilty about him wasting his $40 on a silly girl who can't appreciate a rave party. I can't help but make a biting remark, "I just hope your dancing skills have improved."

Massive chandeliers that give off different colors of light. Massive ferris wheels that spin you around to heighten your high. Massive bars. Massive stages. Massive stars.

Yes, because it's an outdoor rave party in the middle of San Francisco. Even though it's outdoors, it seems indoors because how else will those chandeliers hang. Unless... Am I drugged?

"Cams, keep up! I nearly lost you!"

"Fuck, I can't go on anymore. Death by Trance!"

"Trance? What are you talking about? This is my room."

I look around and see that he's right. We're in his room in his house in South Bay. I'm wearing my St Scho uniform. He's wearing his La Salle uniform. We're 10 years wiser but 10 years younger. We are before and after at the same time.

So I know because I remember. We've been fighting on the streets of South Bay. Me sitting on the sidewalk. Him giving a deranged soliloquy, pacing back and forth. Me thinking, "How can I help you if you push me away? Fuck you, say it! Tell me what I've already guessed! How dare you think that I don't know! How dare you treat me like a child!" And I remember him sitting beside me to cry which makes me cry too and then me thinking, "Maybe all we needed was a good cry."

"Just love me?"

"I do. You don't have to ask."

Did it really happen that way? Yes, yes, it did.

"Call Jill's house. They're waiting for me to come back. They might be worried." I say the exact words I said 10 years ago.

He steps out, exactly like he did ten years ago.

And I see everything with the voyeurism and hindsight of 10 years of wisdom and memory. I see him dial Jill's number and wait for her to pick up. I see Jill pick up the phone. I see him say, "She's with me. She's okay." I see Jill turn to the others - Nins, Chinx, TL - and say, "She's with him. She's okay." I see them give a collective sigh of relief. I see them lock the door that they were keeping unlocked for me. I see them turn off the lights.

And when he steps back into the room, exactly like he did ten years ago, I am asleep.

And it's with innocence he puts his arm around me and watches me sleep.

And it's with wisdom that I hurt because I know that this gesture of possession will be repeated, with different boys in different rooms, but no other gesture of love and possession will ever be as sweet and innocent as this first time.