That’s the street we were on after the prom, Mare thought, trying to catch her breath. I told him to take the cobblestones then, too. I wanted the ride.

I pulled that trash can to us when I came. I sucked in my breath, I sucked in everything, and I pulled it to us, and we wrecked because of me and he left because of me.

Everything was my fault, it was all my fault.

She held herself away from him, trembling, all the way up the mountain, trying to tell herself that she hadn’t known, that she’d always been careful when she’d had sex, always had it outside, up on the mountain under the big oak, where there was nothing but rocks too big to move so that nobody got hurt, that she’d thought the little bubbles she got on the back of the bike hadn’t counted, the real thing was Crash inside her, not just her hugging him, giggling and popping on the back of the bike, she hadn’t known-

My fault.

Crash turned the bike into the violet-filled meadow at the top of the hill and cut the motor, then took off his helmet and turned to her. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes,’ she said, and took off her helmet and got off the bike, hating not touching him, hating herself for touching him. My fault. ‘No.’

‘I know, it was just like prom night,’ Crash said, getting off the bike. ‘Listen, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to-’

‘It was my fault,’ Mare said miserably. ‘The accident prom night. It was my fault.’

‘It was an accident,’ Crash said, sounding confused. He put his hand on her arm. ‘If it was anybody’s fault, it was mine. If I’d slowed better, you wouldn’t have fallen off-’

‘My fault.’ Mare put her arms around his neck, keeping her mind in check so that nothing moved anywhere. ‘It’s my fault you left town. It’s my fault-’

‘Hey.’ Crash put both arms around her and she drew in her breath as he pulled her close, the bulk of his body a comfort. ‘It wasn’t-’

‘I’m magic,’ Mare said, holding on to him. ‘I make magic. That’s my secret, I’m psychokinetic, I can move things with my mind, that’s why I always brought you up here, because everything up here’s too heavy too move. I came on the back of the bike and when I came, I threw that trash can, and that’s why we wrecked. It was my fault.’

‘Uh, Mare…’

‘No, I really can move things.’ Mare looked around the clearing. There was the Great Big Rock and the circle of the other Big Rocks, but they were all too big, that was the whole point of being up here, that she couldn’t throw things while she was thrashing around. The wind had picked up, and the tree branches were waving, and there wasn’t anything light enough for her to move that the wind wasn’t already moving, everything was beyond her power. Maybe one of the helmets…

Crash was looking at her with sympathy in his eyes. ‘Look, Mare, if this is that Queen of the Universe stuffy it’s okay, I believe you.’

‘No you don’t.’ Mare stared at his helmet, trying to get the weight of it in her mind. She lifted it up off the seat of his bike, but then the wind scooped in under it and it toppled to the ground where Crash caught it and tied it to the seat.

‘I really can,’ she said desperately, looking for something light enough, anything, maybe she could put a violet in his buttonhole or something, and then he put his arms around her and drew her close again.

‘Look, I don’t care,’ he said. ‘Because you know what? Even if you could do that stuff, even if the wreck was your fault, it would be good that it happened. I grew up. I got out of town, I learned things, I made a great life, a life I want you to be part of, I’m ready to settle down now, so it turned out all right, didn’t it?’

Mare bit her lip and leaned against him. ‘No. No, I missed you too much.’

‘I know,’ he said, holding her tighter. ‘I missed you, too. But now it’s our time, Mare. We’ve earned each other.’

‘You don’t understand,’ she said, but his arms were warm around her, safe, and she sighed into him, grateful to have him at least for tonight, even though she couldn’t keep him, even though there’d be no tomorrow for them and she’d be lost without him again. ‘You’ve definitely earned me tonight,’ she whispered, and then she reached up and kissed him, hard, desperate for him, felt his arms tighten around her, remembered the way he’d felt rolling hot against her, and didn’t care about anything but now. If all she had was now, that would be something. ‘Come on,’ she whispered, and pulled him with her under the massive oak.

She popped the snaps on her overalls and let them fall to her feet and Crash said, ‘You shouldn’t do that all at once, I get dizzy,’ and she laughed, taking off the rest of her clothes, watching him strip, too, trying to keep the tears from starting, and then she pulled him down to the ground with her, shivering because the air was cool with the approaching storm. He was hot against her, his hands gentle on her again, and she closed her eyes, remembering him, trying to remember him forever, the taste of him and the scent, the way his skin scraped on hers, the way his mouth covered hers, the way his hips fit into her. They were made for each other, both strong and tall, and she said, ‘Do it hard,’ the way she had the first time she’d brought him up to the mountain, and he laughed the way he had then, and he said, ‘We’ll do it every way we can,’ just like he had then, and she closed her eyes tight and thought, Don’t cry, he’ll think it’s because he’s doing something wrong, and he was doing everything so right.

‘I love you,’ she whispered into his skin, and he whispered, ‘I love you, too, and God, I’ve missed you, Mare,’ and he moved his hands over her, remembering her, touching her everywhere. She shifted against him, thinking, Yes, you fit there, and Yes, that was right there, and Yes, I loved feeling you there, rolling against him and shuddering as he discovered her all over again. Then she bit his earlobe and he bent to her breast, and she sucked in her breath as he worked his way down her body, and she arched under him, her eyes wide open as the oak tree moved above her, the leaves pulsing as he gently bit her stomach and moved lower, then lower still, licking into her, and she breathed with his rhythm and the oak leaves did, too, and the branches heaved as her blood pounded harder and she twisted her fingers into his thick hair. Oh, God, she thought, and began to rock, and the earth did, too, and so did the branches as he held her hips trapped and she felt the pressure everywhere, in her fingertips and behind her eyes and most of all there, until she writhed and reached up and saw the branches above her writhing, wildly, almost snapping, and she stopped herself just in time before they broke. ‘No,’ she said, and pulled on his hair, and he looked up at her, confused.

‘Make love to me,’ she said, breathless, and he said, ‘I was,’ and she said, ‘No, condom, inside me,’ and he reached for his pants, and she thought, I hate having power, and let her head fall back and looked up at the tree that at least had all its branches still in place. Heavy suckers, too. You never did that before, she told the tree, and realized that to keep all those branches up there and not plummeting down on them, she was going to have to fake an orgasm. With the man she loved. Who was perfectly capable of blowing her mind. Literally. And who was going to leave her on Monday.

Life sucks and so do you, she told the tree, and then he was beside her again.

‘Something you want to tell me about?’ he said.

‘I tried,’ Mare said and kissed him, pulling him down to her as she licked inside his mouth. ‘You taste good.’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘That’s you.’

‘I know. I just taste better on you.’ She rolled against him, and said, ‘Let’s try the old-fashioned stuff. You know, you inside me, moving in and out.’

‘Old-fashioned is good,’ he said, and tried to roll so she was on top.

‘No, real old-fashioned,’ she said, pulling at him so she’d be on the bottom. Missionary position. Harder to come that way. Plus, she could keep an eye on that damn oak tree.

He let her pull him over her, balancing above her on his hands, and she wriggled underneath him, wrapping her legs around him, feeling him hard between her thighs.

‘You sure you’re okay?’ he said, and she moved her hand down his stomach and let her palm slide against him, taking him gently while he sucked in his breath.

I’m thinking yes,’ she whispered, tilting her hips and guiding him to her, and then he eased himself inside, and she drew in her breath and thought, Oh, God, I forgot how much I love him on top of me.

He moved into her slowly, the way that always made her shudder, with his mouth on her neck, on that nerve that always made her shiver, and she looked up at the oak, checking on those branches as her eyes unfocused and thought, Oh, Christ, there was a reason I cried for him for a year, and lost herself in him, stroking her hands over his back as he moved inside her, tracing the lines of his muscles the way he loved as his fingers traced hers, biting the place on his shoulder that made him crazy as he whispered in her ear, tilting her hips at the angle that made him moan as he moved deeper inside her and made her gasp, loving the scent and the taste and the sight of him, drowning in the rhythm they made together, and five years fell away as if they’d been nothing, as if he’d never been away at all, except this time the throb and the heat and lust he built in her, the incredible grinding need she had for him had an ache behind it – he’s going to leave me - and even while the flutter in her blood began to itch and then to sear, even while she clenched herself around him, arched up into him and rocked hard against him – yesyesyesyes - even as the oak tree waved above them like a storm, all that time she was hanging on -dontcrydon’tcrydon’tcry - because it was too much to bear, he was going to leave again, he’s going to leave, all that glory, she was never going to have it again, never again, never again, never again, she rocked with rhythm of it, and so did the ground and the tree and her blood, and her breath came quicker, little gasps as he moved in her, hard in her, never again, neveragain, neveragain, again, again, again - tighter and tighter and then it all broke and she cried out in his arms, and held him to her, felt him shudder against her, too, and something soft as tears rained down on her, covered her as she sobbed but didn’t cry, great gulping breaths as she fought back real tears and rocked in his arms, breathing, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you,’ over and over again, trying to get her breath back, holding on to him for dear life, afraid to let him go.

‘I love you, too,’ he said finally, when his breathing had slowed again, and then he picked something off her shoulder. ‘What is this?’ he said and held it up.

Mare focused on it. Something blue. ‘A flower?’ She looked up at the oak. It had bloomed, little blue flowers everywhere. Violets. She looked over to the meadow and saw a bare patch in the wildflowers there. That’s where my tears went. I didn’t cry, I pulled the violets into the oak.

Crash started to sit up, and she held him tighter. ‘Don’t leave me.’

He pulled her closer, their damp bodies sliding together, and brushed the blue petals from her hair. ‘I thought that was an oak tree.’

‘Oh, yeah, now you’re a botanist,’ she said. ‘Kiss me.’

He did, and she kissed him back and thought, My heart is breaking, and for once, drama queen of the universe though she was, it was true.


* * *

Xan stood in the middle of the room, silent in liquid silver silk, gripping the see glass that hung around her neck like a pendant as she tried to slow her breathing. Deep slow breaths, from the diaphragm, cleansing breaths, because if she didn’t, she was going to turn Vincent into something unfortunate, and that would be too good for him.

‘You’ve really completely lost your sense of humor, darling,’ Vincent said, flicking an invisible speck of dust from his satin lapel. ‘Jennifer meant nothing by that remark.’

‘I’m sure she didn’t.’ Jennifer was such an airhead, she didn’t have the concentration to mean anything by any remark. Xan opened the cupboard hidden in the silver paneling and took out a plain glass decanter of deep red wine, burgundy, like blood. I’m in the mood for blood.