From the Bookshelf of Queereaders…

“She stroked the back of my neck. I folded into her body and put my arms around her. She held me tight around my waist, moved her legs against mine, and there was her smell—the brandy, the hair dye, the powder—and there were her hands rubbing my back beneath the Delta T-shirt, her silk nightie soft against my cheek, and the motion, the rocking together as she hummed the angel song softly and wrapped me up slo-mo, tight as that string around

“She stroked the back of my neck. I folded into her body and put my arms around her. She held me tight around my waist, moved her legs against mine, and there was her smell—the brandy, the hair dye, the powder—and there were her hands rubbing my back beneath the Delta T-shirt, her silk nightie soft against my cheek, and the motion, the rocking together as she hummed the angel song softly and wrapped me up slo-mo, tight as that string around her tea bag, and I had a vision or memory, I couldn’t tell the difference sometimes…”

“He said it didn’t have to be people, but he liked that best. It was a way of keeping them with you even when they went away. And hearing those simple words I knew why I’d been struggling for three days to mix the browns and yellows and whites of your skin, knew I’d finally found a use for that sketchbook Blair had given me just before she left. Now both of you would be with me always.”

“You were the first person since Blair who really knew my mind. But you were having a tough time in Hollywood and just like Blair you needed someone to look out for you: I was up for the job. The first step was getting to know each other privately, until I could leave home and become famous. We needed to be on equal footing in the outside world.”

“How was I supposed to tell her you were more important than anything I’d find outside? Even a de-virginizer. Someone I’d never even met. Our philosophies were totally opposed.”