Page 30 of Way Down Deep

You can lie, but you have to answer.

The thing is,

I’m hurting.

I’m desperate.

I’m begging.

Yet I don’t even know whose feet I’m cowering at.

And so my question is,

what’s your name?

11.18pm

Is that the price I have to pay before you tell me? The toll before I get to go down that road of ripping and tearing and whatever else you want me to do? I’d say that seems unfair, but I know it isn’t. I don’t even know why I haven’t told you. What makes me hold back things.

Tell me your name.

Oh god. I don’t think I can talk to you like this. I don’t think I can do this.

Yes, you can. Tell me your name.

Things were sogood as they were!

And they can begood like this, too. Tell me your name.

Iwant to. I feel like maybe this is what I need, this fast. No time to think. No time to lie.

So tell me your name, and we can start.

Maya. It’s Maya.

Maya. Maya. I’m saying it aloud. Hearing it in this still room. Feeling it on my tongue.

How does it taste, then?

Like the rain. Is it raining there, like it is here?

Yes. Pouring it down. When I press my cheek against the glass, it’s practically vibrating.

Where is this window? Above your couch? Your bed?

Above my couch. But I had the urge to lie then and say bed.

Ithinkyou know what I’m going to ask of you next.

Ido, but I need to see you say it.

Iwon’t ask yet. First, I’ll tell you I’m in my chair. The one I dragged over to sit before the radiator. I’m there, with my bare feet and my clinking glass, and the cool breeze coming in, and the sound of the rain. Sounds just like your name.

Ican see it. Do you want to see me, too?

Always.

I’m sprawledon my couch. I have to sprawl; I can’t sit up. I’ve gone weak all over just because we’re talking like this. Just because I picture you so clearly. And I want you to picture me clearly, in return. I’m only wearing a T-shirt, and knickers.

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