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"Did you know they were engaged?"

"No," I say "I didn’t"

"I guess I’ht"

"I want you to," I say

"I know you do"

"Lauren-"

"I really wouldn’t worry about it," she says, brushing pastanyway"

"An i?"

"I don’t think Damien bothers to differentiate"

"If I was a fag I think I’d probably be an important one"

"If we continue this conversation I think I’d probably be entering the Land of the Nitwits"

She turns off the TV and holds her face in her hands, looking like she doesn’t knohat to do I don’t knohat to do either, either, so I check ain

"Do you knohen the last time I saw you was, Victor?" she asks, her back to me

"At Tower Records?"

"No Before that"

"Where?" I ask "For god’s sake, don’t say the Calvin Klein show or in Miami"

"It was in `The Sexiest Men in the Galaxy’ issue of so on top of an A and didn’t have a shirt on and basically looked like an idiot"

I move toward her

"How about before that?" "

In 1985," she says "Years ago"