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t kept him awake all night。 He was used to sleeping in unfamiliar beds； but always alone。 What happened when you woke up in bed with someone？ What were you supposed to do？
The shoulder moved beneath his hand； and Trevor felt muscles shifting liquidly； bones rotating in their sockets； the smooth texture of skin under his palm。 He felt the spine arch and ripple against his chest。 He realized he had never thought about how much anatomy you could learn by touching someone。
Then Zach rolled over and looked at him with those almond…shaped dark green eyes； those eyes that were the exact shade of a colored pencil Trevor had once worn down to a nub。 It was a pencil he used for coloring deep waters and strange shadows； and it had been labeled simply JADE。
Zach looked at him and smiled without saying anything。 Even yesterday； even before the rain it had seemed that Zach was seeing too much of him； was perhaps halfhearing his thoughts。 I don't mind being in bed with you； Trevor thought； not really wanting Zach to hear it but perversely hoping he would。 / don't mind being this close to you。 I don't seem to mind it at all。
Like a dark pulsar from the depths of his subconscious； on the heels of that thought came： Yes； you could learn anatomy by touching someone。 But Bobby took that method to its worst extreme； didn't he？
And that was when he noticed the tiny bits of paper scattered across the blanket； over the pillow； through the tangle of Zach's dark hair。
He reached out and took one。 Zach turned his head to look； and his cheek barely grazed the back of Trevor's hand。 Trevor held the scrap of paper close to his eyes； trying to see it in the poor light。 It was less than half an inch square； but its heavy texture felt terribly familiar。 He sifted through a few more scraps。 Pencil marks； mostly unidentifiable lines and shading。 But here and there a detail had survived。 A hastily lettered word。 A pair of lips sealed around the mouthpiece of an alto saxophone。 A dark eye filling with blood。
Zach propped himself on one elbow； shook the stuff out of his hair。 〃What is it？〃
But Trevor was already up off the mattress； out of the room； running down the hall and slamming into the studio。 He had left his sketchbook neatly centered on the drawing table。 Now it lay wide open at a crazy angle on the floor； its spiral spine pulled askew by whatever force had ripped out the five pages of his story。 The sight gave him a sick sensation in his stomach。
He picked up the sketchbook。 It felt dirty； as if the pages were lightly coated with slime。 Trevor supposed they might be。 He made himself hold it between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand； made himself walk slowly back down the hall instead of caroming off the walls； beating his head against the door frames； or simply throwing himself to the floor and sobbing。
Zach's hands were full of the scraps of paper。 He was trying to examine them in the watery light from the window。 Trevor held up the sketchbook。 As Zach made out what it was； a stricken expression dawned on his face。 〃Not the Bird story？〃
So he had read it； the little snoop。 Trevor couldn't bring himself to care much now。 〃Yeah； that's it you're holding。〃
Zach spread his hands and let the fragments flutter to the floor。 He rubbed his palms together to dislodge the ones that had stuck； then started brushing them off the pillow and blanket。 〃Did you 。 。 。 were you 。 。 。〃
He read the question in Zach's face。 Zach was wondering if Trevor could have torn up the story himself。 The realization didn't even make Trevor angry； he supposed it was a reasonable enough doubt。 〃I was in bed with you all night；〃 he said。 〃You know I was。 I could just as well ask you the same thing。〃
〃But I didn't…〃
〃I know you didn't。〃
〃What are you gonna do？〃
〃Draw it again； I guess。〃
Zach started to speak； stopped； then could not seem to help himself。 〃But 。 。 。 but 。 。 。 Trevor 。 。 。〃
〃What？〃
〃Aren't you pissed？〃
〃What？ That you read my story？〃
〃No；〃 Zach said impatiently。 〃I'm sorry but 。。。 no。 I mean； aren't you mad that it's gone？〃
Trevor sat down on the edge of the mattress。 He looked at Zach； who was leaning forward； his hands clenched into fists against his bare chest； his muscles tensed； his eyes very wide and blazing。 〃Well； you obviously are。〃
〃Why aren't you？ It destroyed your work and threw it in your face！ How can you not be pissed？〃
Trevor took a deep breath。 〃There's something in this house。 I think it might be my family。〃
〃Yeah； I think maybe so too。 And you know what I'd do if I were you？ I'd say so fucking what and get the hell out of here。 If it'll tear up your work； it'll hurt you。〃
〃I don't care。〃
Zach opened his mouth to reply； could not find anything to say and closed it again。
〃If I hadn't been here； I wouldn't have drawn that story in the first place。 Birdland gave it to me。 What can I say if Birdland wants it back？〃
〃Try bullshit。〃
Zach slid across the mattress and laid his hands on either side of Trevor's head； his fingertips pressing gently against the temples。 〃This is your Birdland。 And these。〃 He dropped his hands to Trevor's； took away the mutilated sketchbook； wrapped Trevor's hands in his own and squeezed。 〃If you came back here to find something； at least admit what it is。 Don't get to thinking you need this place for your art； because you don't。 That would be suicide。〃
〃Maybe I want to mit suicide。〃
〃Why？〃
Trevor pulled his hands away。 〃Why don't you just drop it？〃
〃Because your father did？ Is that why you think it's so fucking romantic？ 'Cause if you do…〃
〃Why don't you shut the fuck up and get your stuff…〃
〃…maybe you ought to think about this： HE JUST LOST HIS GODDAMN SENSE OF HUMOR！〃
Zach reached for Trevor's shoulder； maybe only wanting to grab it and shake it to belabor his point。 Trevor didn't want to be grabbed。 He brought his right arm up to shield himself； and Zach made the mistake of trying to pull it down。 Trevor saw his left hand curl into a fist； watched it draw back and piston forward into Zach's still…talking mouth。 He felt the skin split warmly against his knuckles； felt spit and blood smear across his hand。 It hurt where it had connected with the hardness of teeth and gums。 But it wasn't his drawing hand。
Zach's head hit the wall hard and he slid to the mattress； dazed。 Above his bloody mouth； his eyes were a more vivid green than ever； wide； stunned； scared。 Those eyes begged mercy。 It was a wonderful emotion to see in someone's eyes。 You could grant it if you wanted。 But you also had the power to refuse it。
Trevor pulled his fist back to do it again。 His other hand curled around Zach's wrist； felt the small bones grind deliciously beneath his fingers。 He watched Zach's eyes。 This was what they had looked like before they died。 This was how it had been on the other side of the hammer。
He's right； you know。
Trevor stopped。
If Bobby couldn't stand to live without his art； okay。 Suicide is always an option。 But he didn't have to kill them。 You didn't have to spend the rest of your life alone。 Momma would have taken care