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ow he had ever lived it。 What had the world been to him without these feelings； without this insane； brilliant； beautiful boy？ It was difficult to remember。
Now Trevor's hands were pulling at him； that deft tongue probing him relentlessly。 As he grew surer of what he was doing； Trevor was proving to be a near…invasive lover； determined to put his fingers into every fold and hollow of Zach's body； to get every available inch of Zach's flesh into his mouth； to bathe in the juices of sex and perhaps drown in them。 It was almost painful…but exquisitely so； like a cerulean wave crashing and foaming on a pure white shore； like the relief of the swollen vein as the junkie slides the needle in。
But suddenly Zach caught himself thinking of his image in the bathroom mirror before he had shattered it。 The light of fever burning in the eyes； straight through to the brain。 The emaciated face。 Those lesions。 He thought of all the fluids that had passed between him and Trevor； awash with whatever strange chemicals and subtle poisons lurked in their bodies。
Then he put the thought out of his head； as he always did such thoughts。
But this time it was harder。
In the afternoon they sat at the kitchen table together； Trevor drawing while Zach created a bank account in Raleigh just for the hell of it。 Then they ventured downtown for dollar plates of eggs and grits at the diner； which served breakfast all day in keeping with the schedules of its clientele。
Afterward； Trevor was buzzed on brutally strong diner coffee； Zach on the healing energy of a meal he could keep down。 They wandered up the street and stopped into Potter's Store to let the air…conditioning soothe their sweaty sex…soaked skin。
Zach stopped to play with an old adding machine； lost himself briefly in the sensual texture of keys beneath his fingertips； then looked up and realized he was alone。 He found Trevor in the next aisle looking at something called the Sunbeam Hygienic Cordless Toothbrush。 The box was decorated in four…pointed starbursts； the bright colors faded。 On its side were the disembodied heads of a WASP family； Mom； Dad； Sis； and Junior； all with gleaming grins … hygienic ones； presumably。 Where were those facile fifties faces now； Zach wondered； those vapid； innocent icons of post…war advertising； those manufactured American archetypes？
〃Whatever happened to those guys？〃 he asked aloud。
Trevor looked up from his intense scrutiny of the box art。 His eyes were sharp and very clear。 〃The sixties came along and bashed their little heads in。〃
Zach was still turning that one over and over in his head as they left the store。 Trevor hadn't had to think about it at all before he answered： his life had been a study in exactly what had happened to that kind of mythical family。
They continued down Firehouse Street into the rundown section of town； past papered…over windows； boarded…up doors； abandoned cars sagging on their springs。 When they reached the Sacred Yew and heard drums and a bass beat ing from the club so early in the day； they stopped in to see what was up。 It turned out to be a Gumbo sound check in full swing。
Terry Buckett was onstage with two other guys； a skinny kid with a bowl haircut and Lennon glasses playing bass and a devilish…looking bleached blond on guitar。 The blond； Trevor observed； had a tattoo of Mr。 Natural on his left biceps and looked as if he'd been born with a Stratocaster in his hands。 He was handsome； too； with a sybaritic face and a lanky； muscular build。 Trevor caught himself wondering if Zach had noticed。 How stupid； he thought； but the thought didn't go away。
The song in progress sounded like a cross between the Cramps and some kind of old surf music。 When it ended； Terry got up from behind the drums and crossed the stage to greet them。 〃I lost my voice！〃 he said in a hoarse； dramatic whisper。
〃Guess we're playing an instrumental set tonight；〃 added the boy with the Lennon specs。 〃Me and Calvin cain't sing。〃
〃Why don't you cancel the show？〃 Zach asked。
Terry rolled his eyes ruefully。 〃Kinsey needs the money real bad。 We do too。 Trevor； Zach； this here is R。J。 He's a nerd； but he's my oldest buddy。 And this is Calvin。〃
R。J。 said 〃Hey〃 and started tuning his bass。 He didn't seem especially bothered at being called a nerd。 Calvin looked right at Zach and his face split in a delighted； dazzling grin。 He looked as if he would like to eat Zach up right there on the spot。 〃Howdy；〃 he said。 〃You new in town？〃
Zach started to grin right back； but seemed to catch himself。 He gave Calvin an unfortable half…smile。 〃Yeah；〃 he said。 〃We both are。〃
〃Well； let me know if you need anyone to show you the sights； hear？〃 Calvin laid a slight emphasis on the you； which was obviously meant to be singular。
Trevor wanted to drag him off the stage and smash his head like a melon on the sticky floor。 Surely he could see that the two of them were together。 Could he also see how clueless Trevor was about sex？ Could he read some nameless longing in Zach's eyes？
〃Uh； thanks； but I think I've already seen the important ones。〃 Zach turned to Trevor； put an arm around him。 〃e on；〃 he urged； 〃let's see what Kinsey's up to。〃
They walked toward the back of the club； but in Trevor's mind； Calvin had already suffered all the torments of a particularly cruel hell。
Onstage； Calvin watched them walk away； and Terry watched him watching。 Those evil eyes devoured Zach from the top of his tangled hair to the soles of his hightop sneakers。 He was just Calvin's type； Terry knew： skinny bones and deathsome pallor； but spiced up with a smartass twist to his lips。 〃You leave him alone；〃 Terry warned。
〃Who's that with him？〃
〃Bobby McGee's kid。〃
Calvin's eyes widened。 〃Is the urge to kill hereditary？〃
〃You never know。 I wouldn't fuck with him。 Goddamn； my throat hurts。〃 Terry grimaced as he picked up his drumsticks。 〃You wanna run through 'Bad Reaction' again？〃
In the bar； Kinsey greeted Trevor and Zach； then went back to his ledger。 Zach ducked behind the bar and helped himself to a National Bohemian and a Coke from the cooler。 He tossed the Coke to Trevor； popped open the beer； and dropped three dollars on the bar。
Kinsey looked up at the sound of the drinks opening； glanced from the open beer to Zach's face。 〃How old are you？〃 he asked。
〃Uh； nineteen。 Why？〃
〃You can drink that because we're closed。 But during club hours； you don't drink alcohol here。 Understand？〃
〃Huh？〃 Zach's face registered utter shock。 〃Why？ What did I do？〃
〃Nothing。 You're just too young。 I don't know what the drinking age is where you e from； but here it's twenty…one。 I could get shut down for serving you。〃
〃But…〃
〃If you want to drink； you can bring in a flask。 Don't flash it around； and don't tell anyone I said you could。 Those are the rules。〃
〃Rules？〃
〃Don't they have rules in New York？〃
Zach looked helplessly at Trevor。 He ought to say something； Trevor guessed。 Zach was evidently so poleaxed by the concept of an enforced legal drinking age that his silver tongue had deserted him。 But he never should have told that stu