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they forgot whether they were mouth or ass, but with Yolie it was okay. Yolie would never stick an ass thermometer in your mouth. She stuck the thermometer in Ray’s mouth. ‘You’re runnin a little hot.’
    â€˜I ain’t slept is all.’
    â€˜How come?’
    Ray shrugged. He opened his knapsack, took out the roses. ‘They’re for, like, you, but for Trini too, also.’
    Yolie nodded. ‘They’re real pretty. Thank you.’ Yolie put her hand over her mouth. Her tetas shook as if she stood on quaking ground. ‘Lemme get Trini then,’ she said through her fingers.
    Ray panicked. ‘You don’t gotta.’
    â€˜Sit.’ Yolie boobed Ray back into the chair, hit the stairwell that went to the upstairs apartment.
    Ray sweat. Nothing happened for two minutes except the room got fifty times hotter. Ray shivered.
    â€˜Hi.’ She wore a pink half shirt, low-rider jeans, sunshine patches at the pockets. She moved in slow motion, floated as she came down the stairs.
    â€˜Yup,’ Ray said. ‘Hi, I mean.’
    â€˜Mister Mond, you do ka- rack me up.’
    â€˜I, like, you wanna rocks chuck—guh, go chuck rocks in the river with me?’
    The minute he opened the stationhouse door for her he thought, Why am I doing this? Why’d I bring her here?
    The music loud, José didn’t hear them come in. He was watching TV, golf, his hand in his pants, not moving, just there.
    Ray cleared his throat.
    José eyed Trini, jumped, smoothed his hair. ‘We got company, I see.’
    â€˜This is Trini,’ Ray said. He wanted to weep.
    José nodded at Trini, no big deal. ‘What up.’
    â€˜What up.’
    The dogs slobbered all over Trini. She cuddled them. ‘Mutt lovers, huh?’
    José shrugged.
    â€˜He wants to eat ’em. I’m a dog lover, though,’ Ray said.
    Trini hadn’t heard Ray. She was all about smooching the dogs. ‘Look at these cuties.’
    â€˜Sad thing about dogs?’ José said.
    â€˜Yeah?’ Trini said.
    â€˜Folks take old dogs and grind ’em up for horse food.’
    â€˜It’s the other way around ,’ Ray said, but he might as well have not been there. Trini and José pretended they weren’t checking each other out. ‘Killin dogs for food,’ she said. ‘That’s hor rible.’
    â€˜I know,’ José said. ‘I read it in a book somewheres. Breaks my heart.’ José sighed.
    Ray rolled his eyes.
    José grabbed a magazine to fan himself, didn’t realise the mag was Playboy .
    Trini noticed. She laughed.
    â€˜Hot day,’ José said.
    Don’t you goddam do it , Ray almost said.
    â€˜It’s not that hot,’ Trini said.
    â€˜Phew.’ José took off his shirt.
    He goddam did it.
    Trini eyed the J-man’s ripped abs, caught herself, looked away, got back to the business of playing with the dogs, but the damage was done. The J-man’s eight-pack: The atomic bomb had been dropped.
    Ray moped to his bunk, fussed with the fat dope dog. Fatty didn’t want to play, ditched Ray, hit the couch to sleep in peace. Now Ray couldn’t do anything but watch José show Trini around, show her the gigantic TV that split-screen, cartoons big box, Yankees game little. Ray poured Trini a Coke.
    â€˜Thank you, Raymond.’
    â€˜ Raymond? ’ José said. ‘Who’s Raymond ?’
    Ray flipped off José behind Trini’s back.
    Trini ran her hand over the bookcases. ‘Y’all are set up good here, huh? Cool clubhouse.’
    â€˜Clubhouse?’ Ray said. ‘This is our house house.’
    José shot eyes at Ray.
    â€˜Wait, for real, you guys like live in this place?’ Trini said. ‘You can’t live here. Where’s your folks?’
    â€˜Don’t got ’em,’ Ray said.
    â€˜Don’t want ’em,’ José said. ‘Where you from? You