Chapter 8
Hell. The last day and a half have been absolute hell. Sirius does not want to sing tonight. He does not want to do anything. Stimulants are not stimulating as he wants them to and he just wants to scream. Yesterday he wanted to die, so that might be an improvement.
He’s glad no one came by yesterday, because his friends tend to never listen to what he is fucking saying.
Sirius is seated on the floor of his room, his back against his bed, he stares at nothing. He is smoking fags over fags because he still doesn’t have pot, not even caring to open the window. Sirius just wants the floor to swallow him. He doesn’t want to be here right now. He doesn’t want to be here ever.
But he also wants to feel the way he felt the other night even if he knows what it involves. The thing is: Sirius doesn’t really care anymore about those sort of things, he hasn’t in a while.
He finishes his last cigarette and stands up to call Moony, because he’ll probably have what Sirius needs. When he exists his room, he falls face to face with Peter.
“How did you get in?” Sirius frowns.
“Hi to you too.” Peter smiles and Sirius doesn’t return it. “You gave me a key. Remember?” Peter says, showing the key.
Sirius grabs it and walks past him, looking for his phone. He doesn’t really acknowledge Peter, mostly annoyed by his presence. Sirius should be glad he didn’t came by yesterday, it is already that, he couldn’t have handle him yesterday. He can never be alone it seems.
He opens the drawer containing his pills, looking for a stimulant, the last time he took one is quite distant now. He decides on a pink one. One he knows has still some effects, if it is the one he thinks it is.
“What is all of these?” Peter asks from behind him.
Fuck. Sirius turns around, closing the drawer, “Meds. It’s for when I am sick.”
“There’s a lot.” Peter points out, and Sirius fights the urge to roll his eyes.
“I have to do some sorting. Some of those are quite old. I just didn’t take the time.” He says, and that’s not a total lie actually, because there is real medicine in there, things that are expired to this day and since months or years.
“Are you alright?” Peter asks as Sirius swallows the pills with a sip of water that gives him a weird taste in the mouth.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, because you were sick and you didn’t answer my texts. Can you perform tonight?”
“Yeah, yes, I can, of course I can, my phone was just in here and I was there.” He says, pointing at his room and not even really thinking about the fact that he just said he’ll sing tonight. “It was just some kind of indigestion. I’m doing better.”
“Great.” Peter smiles. “Well we have to go then. Maybe get a shower?”
“What do you mean we have to go?” Sirius asks. He didn’t have the time to call Moony. He has to call Moony.
“Well it is twenty past six, Sirius.” Peter frowns. “We have to go to the bar.”
Sirius tries to think for a moment. He cannot think straight. His mind is too blurry. Bloody fucking shit. Sirius wants to scream again.
He doesn’t answer Peter and leads to the bathroom, knowing that he has no way to see Moony tonight, he’ll just have to do as always. He quickly showers and get dressed. Probably not as good as usually because Peter gives him a look although he doesn’t say anything and they leave Sirius’ flat, not before Sirius grabs the pink pills. They do still have some effect on him.
On the way, he smokes two more fags and he totally ignores Peter. When they get there, Marlene tells him he looks terrible and offers to makeup him, he doesn’t even protest.
Sirius notices a few things, but he doesn’t pay much attention to any. He notices James’ constant semi-smile, like something amazing happened or is happening, and how sometimes this smile widens when he seems lost in his thoughts. He notices how Marlene stays with him and how she looks more shut that usual, but he’s more shut too. He notices that Dorcas is not behind the bar, probably hidden in a backroom.
He doesn’t really care about any of that.
Without a word he goes outside and lights himself another cigarette, inhaling deeply. It’s alright. Everything is alright. He goes back inside, asks Dorcas (who came back) a drink and swallows a few more pills (more than usually) with the burning alcohol. He goes back to the band.
“Ready, ladies?” He asks with a grin close enough to his signature one.
James grins back and passes an arm around his shoulder, “Ready, Freddy.”
When they get on stage, Sirius notices Regulus seated at the bar, chatting with Dorcas. He turns to them but doesn’t really look at him.
The others start to play and soon after, Sirius starts to sing. All he can think about is how much he doesn’t want to be here. Singing has always been an outfall and right now, all he wants to do is to escape it. Escape the microphone, escape the lights, escape the stage, escape the world.
Four songs in, James announces that they have to take a break to fix an issue and Sirius gives him a pointed look, not aware of any issue, having heard none.
“What is going on?” James asks him the second they are off stage and off view.
“What do you mean?” Sirius frowns.
“Sirius, you didn’t get any of the lyrics right.” Marlene says, a concerned frown on her face.
“And did you even warm up?” Peter asks, and James and Marlene give him a look.
Sirius is not sure to understand. He stares at them, confused, half-annoyed, half-lost. Did they decide to have a go at him together?
“Sirius.” James says carefully, putting his hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “Is there anything wrong?”
“What do you fucking mean?” Sirius asks, pulling abruptly away.
“You messed up every songs.” Peter says, with more tact than Sirius ever heard from him.
“And so what? I’m not allowed to fucking mess up?” He bursts, pushing a chair next to him. “I’m supposed to be always bloody perfect?”
“We didn’t say that.” Marlene says, pity in her eyes, and that infuriates Sirius even more.
“Well you bloody think it!” Sirius snaps. “Fuck you, you know what? I’m leaving.”
“Sirius!” Marlene calls but he’s already gone.
He doesn’t mean he is leaving forever, he doesn’t mean he quits the band, but he cannot stand it for the moment. He leaves the bar without even waving his brother hello or goodbye and goes straight to his flat where he sleeps until the next morning.
It has been a while since Sirius didn’t awake that early by himself. It is seven in the morning and the city is awakening.
He feels considerably better than the two days prior and spends a moment staring at the selling and re-thinking what he did the previous day.
He was fucking awful to the members of the band. Awful. He bloody fucking left four songs in. How did they do? Sirius feels horrible.
He asks himself if any of them is awake, because he really has to apologise, more than ever. Sirius stares at the clock James installed in his room months ago and thinks that no one is awake at this hour, or it is just that they didn’t went to bed.
He texts Moony, asking him to meet early today. He feels good enough to go out and buy some weed from him, but he’d also like to buy what to handle the show tonight, and the show tomorrow. The thing is, he doesn’t know if he’ll dare to ask Moony for that. Something is blocking him.
Avery’s words resonate within his head, ‘Come back to us if you need anything’. And right now, Sirius really needs what they introduced him to. He really needs it to sing tonight. Because the previous night has been a total mess.
At around eleven, Moony told him to meet at two and he has been searching his jeans to find Avery’s number (he’s sure the boy gave it to him), someone knocks at the door and Sirius freezes. He slowly puts down his jeans and walks to the door. When he opens it, it is to find the three other members of Spiritual Animals looking equally worried.
“You’re not really leaving the band, are you?” Marlene asks after a few seconds of staring.
“No.” Sirius simply says, taken aback by their presence here.
“Could we come in?” James asks politely.
Sirius nods and steps back to let them enter the flat. They look around and Sirius is glad that the whole flat isn’t a mess, only his bedroom.
There is a ashtray almost full on the salon table and two of three half empty bottle of different alcohols here and there, partitions and pages of lyrics on every surfaces, but it is mostly put together in comparison to his bedroom.
Sirius goes to the kitchen to find out that he ran out of both tea and coffee. He tells them and no one seems to really care, it’s alright, they’ll drink water.
They all sit on around his table –not before Sirius took all the pages in one set and set them flying on the sofa– and Sirius stares at his hands. He knows he should apologise, he planned to, but it is much harder when they are all here, expecting him to do it.
“We’re sorry.” Peter finally says, and Sirius snaps his head to look at him. What?
“About what?” Sirius asks confused.
They all look at each other and finally it is James who talks, “We weren’t really fair to you yesterday.”
Sirius shakes his head, “No, no. I was awful. I– I sang awfully and I got at all of you for just asking me why. I shouldn’t have.”
There is a silence during which Sirius stares back at his hands, “Are you alright, Sirius?” Peter asks. “You know you can tell us anything, right?”
Sirius swallows and thinks about many things all at once. No, he’s not alright, he hasn’t been alright in a long, long time. He thinks about the Black house, the trial, the drugs, the alcohol, the memories, himself. He thinks about all the things he is not able to do because he is in fact, not alright. He thinks about all the things he does for the same reason. But that is not exactly what Peter is asking, is it? Is Sirius alright at the moment? Well, he is certainly better than yesterday, better than the day before yesterday.
Sirius doesn’t know if that means he is alright, he doesn’t know what alright is, not anymore, maybe he never knew. However, he knows to differentiate good and bad days, but even this line is sometimes blurry nowadays.
“Yeah.” He breathes out, not looking at them, and he knows they aren’t convinced. They never are. “I’m alright.”
“Sirius…” James starts.
“I’m alright.” Sirius cuts off. “I just–I just wasn’t feeling well. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped.”
“Sirius you’re– just know that we’re here, okay?” Marlene says quietly.
Sirius nods and he feels his eyes sting, but his eyes are dry. He looks up and sees his friends glancing at each other like if they are questioning if they should tell him something or not.
Finally, it is James who talks, “I still have the number of this therapist I told you about.”
Sirius looks at him, something like anger and disappointment and fatigue rising in him. It is tiredness which wins finally, “I’m alright, James. It was just a few bad days. I’m sorry.”
They all nod slowly, Sirius looks down again. He knows they don’t believe anything he says, and right now, he doesn’t have the strength to try to convince them. He just feels…well he doesn’t know how he feels actually, he just knows that he doesn’t like it. He hasn’t smoked in days and it’s been years since he passed that much time without smoking weed.
“Sirius.” James calls and he looks up. “Do you feel like performing tonight? We can cancel if you don’t. Horace won’t be mad.”
Sirius presses his lips together and he stares at James. Does he feel like performing? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to but maybe, if he finds Avery’s fucking number, he’ll be. Maybe he’ll be even without it. He stares in James’ eyes and he knows that he has to say yes, because if he doesn’t, everything is going to fall apart.
So Sirius swallows, nods and plants a confident grin on his face, “Yeah, of course. I’ll be ready and fresh tonight.”
James breaks into a smile and Marlene makes a sort of laugh like a lot of tension is coming out of her all at once. Peter exhales and closes his eyes, and that reminds Sirius how important the band is to Peter. To all of them, really. Without it, Sirius would only wander and smoke all day without any purpose.
They end up leaving, all of them having things to do and Sirius sits there for a while, avoiding thinking. He goes to the window and lights a fag before remembering that he has to meet with Moony in an hour. He finishes his cigarette and goes back inside, grabbing one of the half empty bottle of alcohol on the way and pours himself a drink.
When he finishes it, he goes back to looking for Avery’s number in his jeans pockets, and this time, he finds it.
***
Remus would never admit that he was relieved when he received a text from Padfoot this morning but he was. He really was. Because Padfoot hadn’t texted him since he saw him Monday and it was quite weird and unusual.
Remus would never admit that he was scared that he had done something wrong, but he was. Still kind of is. Because Padfoot only texted him for weed, and he usually texts him for more. He actually usually bullies him with texts all day long about literally anything. Remus doesn’t complain. Oh, how he would like to complain!
He really tries to keep his distances, but there isn’t much he can do when Padfoot is well… Padfoot. It is just something about him and Remus, like if they are meant for something, always were, always will. Remus would be a fool to think he can escape it. All he can do is limit the damages, stay as far away as he can get.
“Fuck yes you’re here!” Padfoot says when he arrives. Padfoot is never on time, even less in advance.
“Hello to you too.” Remus mocks.
“Yeah, hello, sorry.”
“As usual?” Remus asks. He sees hesitation passing in Padfoot eyes but he ends up nodding and they exchange what they came here to exchange. As soon as he has his pot in hands, Padfoot rolls himself a joint and Remus is quite surprised, he never smoked in front of him.
“Putain.” He says, exhaling, eyes closed.
“Been missing it?” Remus asks because he feels uncomfortable in the silence, and also because Padfoot speaking French makes him feel things that he refuses to acknowledge.
“So fucking much you don’t even know.” He opens his eyes. “It’s been days Moony, days. The cops took my weed and–”
“Wait, what? The cops?” Remus interrupts.
“Monday. After we met. But they where mostly interested in–” He cuts himself and bites the inside of his cheeks. “Well, let’s just say that I haven’t smoked since Sunday.”
Remus nods slowly. The police. He doesn’t dare to think what would happen if he got caught. He is not a big dealer, but he doesn’t want to risk prison. He knows they’ll offer him an arrangement if he tells them for who he works, but jail might be better than facing the consequences of denouncing Avery and Mulciber.
He has a fucking scar crossing his face for less than that, so much less. He’s not sure he’ll take the risk.
Strangely, Padfoot being arrested makes him realise what he really signed up for all those years ago. It makes him realise that what he does really is illegal.
Oh he knew, of course he knew, but there is a difference between knowing and realising, Remus would die on that hill. It is like knowing someone vaguely for years, seeing them almost every days and suddenly realising that they have blue eyes. You knew it, of course, but it is such a weird sensation when the realisation hits. And the realisation of doing something illegal, something that could cause him prison or even his own death– or worse– has just struck Remus, and it is not a realisation he likes, not at all.
You usually don’t like realisations, they are disturbing because how the fuck did you not realise before? How the fuck didn’t he realise that this person has blue eyes, how the fuck didn’t he realise that he could end up dead or in jail?
“Moony?” Padfoot says, waving a hand in front of his face.
“Uh? What?” Remus says, snapping back to reality.
“I was asking you if you had a good week.”
“Oh. Yeah, yeah, really great.” Remus says. He could be in jail in two days. Well, maybe more, he doesn’t really know about the procedures, never really checked. Should he? Should he not? If he does, will they trace him down? Fuck it, of course they won’t. “What about you?”
Padfoot winces then grins of his smile of his, but it is a really obvious fake one, “As great as it can get.”
“Oh, yeah.” Remus makes, because that’s the answer he almost always gives, or some derivative of it.
It is sometimes ‘Perfect when it needed to be’ which is quite a weird way to say things, sometimes more flirty with ‘amazing now that I see you’ and other times a little more honest with ‘I’ve lived better’. Remus knows better. Now that he got to know him (mostly without choosing to), Remus knows of which category of addicts Padfoot is a part of: the ones who smoke to avoid reality and to forget, to be someone they are not, to survive. The mentally unwell ones. The ones who fall deeper and deeper, always on the verge of a downfall. It wasn’t too hard to understand, really, Remus got it the first time they went for a drink, but it still hurts to think about it. They are the worst to deal to. The ones that make him feel the guiltiest.
Because, well, Remus’ job is illegal and it is about giving addicts what to fulfil their addiction. That’s a fucked up job, really.
“Yeah, well, I should go.” Padfoot makes, stepping back. “Have places to be. See you Moony.” He waves.
“See you Pads.” Remus calls.
He stays there for a moment. It is Friday afternoon and he doesn’t have classes, he honestly expected Padfoot to stay a little bit longer, or not to leave in such a hurry at least. Well, he did say that he has places to be, probably things to do. Remus cannot expect to be a priority in his life, he shouldn’t even think about it, really. The thing is: he does, oh how he does.
He ends up leaving, seeing as Padfoot left too, and is not about to come back. He has to meet with another person in thirty minutes, and someone he sees regularly in the afternoon. But that’s not the worst of the day, no it isn’t. Remus has dinner with his parents tonight. If it was only for his parents, he would be alright with that, they may have somehow kicked him out when he turned eighteen, but he doesn’t hate them, he actually loves them very much. Remus knows that they didn’t do that in a mean way, it is just a tradition, really. They were both kicked out at eighteen, just like Remus. He would have honestly like for them to break the generational circle, but it is what it is.
No, the reason why Remus doesn’t want to go to this dinner is not his parents. This is a neighbour’s dinner, and the only bearable neighbour Remus had was Lily. Except she won’t be there. However, the Evans will be there. Along with the Snapes. Which means Petunia and Severus. Remus fucking hates their guts but he has to be there too. No choice.
He also has to prepare to hear about Lily the whole night. Except it won’t be nice things. Far from it.
Unfortunately, the dinner approaches rapidly and soon, Remus is in front of his parents’ house. It is Hope who opens the door and she immediately takes him in her arms.
“Hello Mum.” He says in her shoulder, because she grabbed him by the neck and put him there.
“How are you, dear?” She asks, pulling away and looking at him from head to toe. She lingers on the scar, like she always does, but crosses their eyes again. “You look good.” She nods.
Remus offers her a small smile and she pulls him inside by the arm. She does most of the talking, as always, while they walk to the kitchen where Lyall is finishing an apple pie.
“Son.” He says gravely.
“Father.” Remus answers on the same tone and it doesn’t take much time before Lyall breaks a grin.
“How have you been, Remus?”
“Great.” Remus answers.
“And classes?”
“Interesting.”
“Always so concise.” Hope rolls her eyes. “Just like your dad.”
Remus shrugs but there is a small smile on his lips. The bell rings and the smile fades, Remus closes his eyes.
“That must be the Evans.” Hope smiles. “Petunia is here with her fiancé, Vernon, heard good things about him, he does charity and things like that.”
“Well, he’s Petunia’s fiancé.” Remus mocks. “That’s very charitable.”
“Remus!” Hope calls and Lyall laughs. She gives him a disapproving look and starts walking out of the kitchen, “Please be kind tonight.”
“Aren’t I always?” Remus rolls his eyes as she exits the kitchen. He turns to his father, only to see a amused glow in his eyes, “What?”
“You still hate her, don’t you?”
“Hatred is a bit exaggerated.” Remus makes with yet another roll of the eyes. “Do you want to know who I hate?”
“Severus.”
“Severus.” Remus confirms with a nod. “Why are you still inviting him?”
“Because he’s the neighbour.”
“He’s the neighbours’ son.”
“He’s still living at his parents’, Remus.” At that, Remus presses his lips into a thin line, because he doesn’t live at his parents’ anymore. “Remus.” Lyall makes, something like guilt and pity in his voice.
“No.” Remus cuts in, holding up his hand. “Don’t need to say anything. I just don’t get why you keep inviting the Snapes. Severus is fucking awful and if that’s possible, his father is worst.”
“We don’t have to explain every decision we make to you.” Lyall says.
“Yeah, I think I got that one.” Remus says, turning away to leave the kitchen by another door than his mother, chatters coming from there.
He goes outside and sits on his old swing. Remus did quit smoking a year ago, but coming home is a good excuse to start again. Just for tonight. He always had a packet hidden in the tool shed.
He goes there to find it then sits back on his swing, lighting the fag with a match like a cowboy in an old American movie.
He is half done when he hears the door opening and recognises the silhouette of Severus. He sighs loudly, taking another drag.
“I thought you’d quit.” Severus calls.
“Yeah, what you think is often wrong.” Remus says.
Severus makes a face that gives Remus the urge to punch him in the face. He doesn’t. Instead, he inhales the toxic smoke once more.
“You think you’re so clever.” Severus grits between his teeth. Then, when Remus doesn’t bother respond and just arches an eyebrow, “You are not. Far from it.”
They stare at each other for a long moment then Remus finally says, “Wait, you were expecting me to respond something? Because really that’s low level of insult. Seriously, Snivellus, you’ve accustomed me to better.”
“Don’t call me that!” Severus snaps, and a small smirk forms on Remus’ lips.
“Snivellus? Nicknames only bother you when they are to mock you, don’t they?”
“I recall you didn’t like when we called you Loony Lupin either, right?”
Remus thinks about that for a second. He, in fact, didn’t like being called that way. But today, he finds that Loony strikingly resembles Moony. He doesn’t hate it that much.
“Yeah, no, I kind of grew up, that’s not really a concern I have anymore.” He leans forward on his swing, “You know, there are more preoccupying things in this world that a bad nickname that doesn’t even make any sense. I’m not ten anymore, those kind of things fly over my head.”
“You always thought you were so better than me.”
“No I didn’t think. I knew.”
Severus presses his lips together and Remus is pleased. It has been a while since he last payed attention to anything the other boy says. Well, since that shit with Lily, really.
Like if he knows what Remus is thinking about, Severus says, “How is Lily doing?”
“That’s none of your businesses.” Remus snaps.
“We’re friends.”
“No, it’s been a while since you’re not anymore. Get over it. You’re never getting her back as a friend. Never.”
Severus grits his teeth one more time then turns heels and goes back inside the house. Remus finishes his fag tranquilly, knowing that he’ll soon have to go back inside and to face a bunch of shitty people for the rest of the night.
***
Seeing Dorcas at her door was the last thing Marlene expected to see today when she woke up, but still, there she was.
Seeing Nancy at the bar tonight was the second last thing Marlene expected to see today when she woke up, but still, here she is.
Nancy is Marlene’s last girlfriend, they broke up months before Marlene met Dorcas. The thing is: Nancy was Marlene’s girlfriend but Marlene was only Nancy’s sex-friend. It ended badly, very badly. Marlene spent two weeks crying in her room, and she would only let Sirius in. She went back to smoking pot with him too, but she stopped again when she got over Nancy.
The other thing is: Nancy never really did anything wrong, she genuinely didn’t know that Marlene thought they were more than sex-friends. All in all, Marlene is not angry at her, she was just really upset at the time (still is in some way), but Nancy really felt bad and stepped out of her life as soon as Marlene asked her to. She wasn’t in love, her ego was just hurt.
She notices Nancy as soon as she steps on stage, but that’s only because she’s at the exact spot Marlene always looks at to avoid Dorcas’ gaze. Nancy smiles at her and Marlene nearly falls. She quickly straightens and smiles back before focusing on what she has to do.
Sirius is better tonight. Energetic, more than she has seen him in years. Yesterday was bad, really bad. She genuinely feared that he would leave the band, they cannot continue without him. Technically, they could continue the band without one of them, replace the missing member, but Marlene knows they won’t. They already did when Lily left, that’s true, but they didn’t replace her, just changed the partitions. If one of them was to leave, Marlene knows it’ll be the end of the band, there is no replacement possible, it’s not even considerable.
The concert passes and Marlene keeps stealing glances in Nancy’s way. She doesn’t know why the girl is here but she’s sure she’s about to find out.
When the show ends and Marlene steps out of her kind of lodge, Nancy is there. The moment their eyes meet, Marlene knows it is going to be an on and off kind of thing. But not the kind that hurts, because Marlene knows better now. She won’t let it hurt.
She shouldn’t be so confident about it being painless, wouldn’t be usually, but Marlene is smitten for someone else. She’s so down for Dorcas that she knows it’ll take more than Nancy to forget.
But it can help. It can smother the pain. Marlene knows how to make pleasure feel stronger than pain, she knows how to drown hurting in passion.
That’s why she leans against the door with her signature grin and says, “Nance. What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you it seems.” Nancy smiles back.
“Who else could you fetch down here?” Marlene shrugs.
Nancy lets out a laugh –oh, Marlene remembers that laugh, she used to write poetry in her head about that laugh– and leans against the wall. She was always a bit cocky and that might be why it never quite worked out between the two of them out of the bedroom, Marlene is quite cocky too.
“Seriously, why are you here?” She repeats. She had this feeling when their eyes meet, right, but that doesn’t mean it is what it is going to be.
“I miss you?” Nancy tries.
“You miss my boobs.”
“Yeah, pretty much.” Nancy replies shamelessly, her face twisting a bit. The girl just wants a good time, and who is Marlene to deny her?
“Yeah, right.” Marlene huffs a laugh, stepping away from the door. “You carry my bag then.” She adds, extending her bag to Nancy who takes it immediately.
“That’s alright with me.” Nancy jumps a little, following Marlene.
On her way to the door, they pass next to Dorcas who is cleaning a table. Their eyes meet and Marlene’s heart flickers.
“Good show.” Dorcas says awkwardly.
Yeah, no, she can’t do that anymore, never again.
She extends her arm and grabs Nancy’s hand, “Alright, come on. I still want to have some sleep tonight.”
“Don’t be so sure about that.” Nancy answers with a laugh, throwing her head back.
As they step outside, the fresh air of October caresses Marlene’s cheeks and she closes her eyes an instant. Everything is alright, everything is going to be alright.
“What was that?” Nancy asks.
“What?”
“You and this girl. The bartender.”
“What about her?” Marlene says rather aggressively. That’s not how she wanted it to sound.
“Oh, there’s a story behind that, isn’t there?” Nancy asks with a smile. Marlene ignores her, but Nancy is not one to back up, “You literally ignored her and grabbed my hand to make her jealous, Marls. Come on, spill the tea!”
Marlene stops and looks at her for a moment. Nancy cocks an eyebrow and Marlene sighs, “Listen, if you want to shag, that’s fine with me, but I don’t have to tell you anything about my life.”
Nancy blinks at her for a few seconds then smirks, “Alright, alright.” She’s says, putting her hands up in surrender, “We don’t have to do the conversation. It’s only about sex.”
“Exactly.” Marlene says, resuming walking. “Except this time we’re both on the same boat.”