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Maria loops an arm around my neck and plants a wet,
    affectionate kiss on my cheek. “We kind of adopted you, Adam.”
    Joe sees Maria to the door, and I can hear them argue quietly but can’t make out the words. Joe
    was right—his family is crazy. Ten minutes with Maria and I’m exhausted. I shudder to think what
    holidays with the whole group must be like. I pick up the Christmas album Maria was looking at. The
    page is open at a group photo of the whole animated Massone family grinning for the camera. My eyes
    are drawn just below, to a candid shot of one of Joe’s nieces tearing into her present with Joe and me
    seated on a couch in the background. I’m watching the action and laughing and Joe… well, Joe is
    watching me. There is such naked longing in his face that it sucks whatever breath is left in my lungs
    away.
    “Hungry?”
    “What?” I slam the album shut guiltily.
    “Are you hungry?” Joe asks with an indulgent smile. “I can heat up some of Mom’s soup.”
    “Sure. Yeah, that would be great.”
    “We should probably ice you up again too,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads into the
    kitchen. As soon as he’s out of sight, I flip the album back open, my heart beating wildly. It’s still
    there. Even I can’t miss it. He loves me. Not as a best friend or a brother—Joe is in love with me.
    And the thought isn’t as frightening or uncomfortable as it should be. In fact it makes me… happy.
    My lack of memory has never been so frustrating. I need to know. I need to know who I am.
    AFTER two bowls of Mrs. Massone’s minestrone and a couple of heavenly cannoli, I feel strong
    enough to start digging into my past. Sitting on the edge of my bed where I can survey the entire room,
    I try to think of myself as a puzzle. Who is Adam Beck? So far all I know is that I’m a twenty-nine-
    year-old, girlfriend-less project manager with a closet full of khakis and button-down shirts. When
    my eyes fall on a beat-up laptop on the desk, I realize it’s exactly what I need to help me learn more
    about myself.
    The machine boots up slowly, whirring and chugging to life. While I wait, I prop myself up
    against the headboard, cushioned by a buffer of pillows with the computer on my lap. Fortunately the
    laptop is not password enabled and automatically connects me to the network. I don’t even have to
    think; my hands seem to still know their way around a computer as I navigate through the system. The
    hard drive gives me nothing, consisting mostly of downloaded music and movies, so I open up a
    browser window and hit my bookmarked list. The standard assortment of e-mail tools, file-sharing
    sites—nothing remarkable here. Hang on, what’s this? Buried two levels deep in the bookmarks is a
    folder called “XXX.” The normalness of it makes me smile. So Adam likes his porn. Nothing wrong
    with that as long as I’m not into anything real kinky or—
    Gay? Oh my God, it’s all gay porn judging by the names of the sites—and there are more than a
    few. My stomach flutters with excitement as if I’m on the verge of some important discovery. I hover
    over the mouse pad, torn between wanting to look and wanting to pretend I never saw this. In the end
    my fingers make the decision for me and click on one of the links.
    The video, when it comes up, doesn’t entirely surprise me; two hot young guys are kissing on a
    couch, getting really into it if the huge boners both are sporting are any indication. Within no time
    clothes are thrown off, dicks are being sucked, and the moaning is loud enough that I have to turn the
    sound off so Joe won’t hear. After another five minutes, I’m half hard and confused as hell.
    “There you are.” Joe pokes his head into the room and I slam the lid shut. “What are you doing?”
    “Uh, just trying to find out who I am.”
    “You’re… you’re Adam,” he says as if that explains everything.
    “Gee, thanks, dude. That really helps.”
    “I don’t know, Adam.