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patiently for a few seconds, shifting his
thumb a little this way and that, but I recognized that look on his
face. He hadn't found anything either and would soon need to accept
what I'd told him.
    He frowned, looking from my wrist to
my face, ready to speak, but then he hesitated. His eyes lit up, a
smile on his face, and he shook his head fast.
    "No," he said.
    "No what?" I asked. "What are you
saying?"
    I sounded desperate, I knew it, but I
needed him to say something more than "No." What did he mean? Why
did he look excited? What was going on?
    "It's faint. A little weak, but I can
feel it. Your pulse is very low, though. That's probably why you're
body temp is lower. I can't say with absolute certainty, but I
think it's maybe six or seven beats per minute."
    "I don't believe you," I said. I
wanted to believe him. I wanted to cry and hug him and tell him he
was the only person who'd given me any hope in such a very long
time, but I couldn't. If I believed him, I knew it would only hurt
me more when I realized the truth later.
    "Here," he said. "I'll show
you."
    "I appreciate the nice lie," I said,
gazing off into the trees while he took my other hand and placed my
fingers on my wrist. "I think it's nice of you to do that and I
don't hate you for it, but you can tell me the truth. We're both
adults here."
    My fingers lay on my wrist,
motionless. Everything was motionless. I had no pulse, no
heartbeat. Maybe I had no heart? What if that's what happened? Four
chambers in my chest, shriveling up inside me, transforming into
nothing more than a hardened lump of muscle.
    A throbbing bump.
    My eyes widened and I stared at my
wrist. It had taken awhile, but I felt something.
    Evan laughed, excited.
"See?"
    "It was a mistake," I said. "Let me
feel more."
    He nodded and moved close to me,
resting his hands on my forearms by my elbow. I felt glistening,
warm, and giddy. Maybe ten seconds or so later, I felt it
again.
    Bump!
    I laughed. I wanted to jump around and
dance and scream at the sky, but instead I grabbed Evan and kissed
him. I didn't know where that came from, except maybe I needed to
because he was the only person around? Was that all,
though?
    A flood of emotion swelled through me
as our lips touched. I felt alive and healthy, warm and pulsating.
I wasn't dancing, I was kissing, but my body couldn't quite tell
the difference at the moment. Some quivering cadence of molten fire
surged through me.
    I nearly passed out from the raw
feeling of it. Overwhelmed, the warmth crashed into me and made me
shaky on my feet. I teetered from side to side in a strange,
intoxicated state, and would have fallen if Evan hadn't caught me.
The warmth of his fingers was softer than the heat of his lips and
it leveled me to a more balanced state of pleasure.
    I stared at him. He looked at me,
concerned, but not too much. Happy, yes, and worried, and curious.
I liked Evan. He seemed like a nice person.
    "Do you want to come in?" I
asked.
     
    ...
     
    I shouldn't have invited anyone into
my house, because I never cleaned it. Not to say it was horribly
dirty, but it wasn't in the best of shape before I arrived, and I'd
done nothing to fix it up afterwards, either. I used the kitchen
for the bowls, spoons, the microwave, and a can opener, then the
bedroom for the bed and the bookcase, and that was about
it.
    We stumbled inside, tripping over a
clutter of jackets laying on the ground near the coat
closet.
    "It's nothing fancy," I said. "I
should clean more, but it's difficult to remember to."
    "This is a really nice house," he
said, awed. "I love it. I used to live with another guy before
everything happened, so I don't mind the clutter too much. It's not
even that bad to be honest."
    "I try to take out the trash at the
very least," I said. Why was I telling him this? I sounded like
some dirty loser. "I don't eat much, though. I get full really
fast. I think that's a part of this? I'm not sure."
    Evan nodded, listening, peering around
my home. He