Page 75 of White Room Virgin

“Who…?” My voice was no more than a whisper.

“Who do you think?” Martin laughed. “Lu is the worst actor there is. And Steven can’t keep a secret anyway.”

I stood there tensely, my nails digging at the doorframe.

“Relax, Jonah. It’s not a big deal. I’m happy for you. For the both of you. That is a good thing.”

I forced myself to nod and tried to take a deep breath.

“Are we eating together?” Martin asked.

“Yes.” My voice sounded strange to my ears, but Martin didn’t seem to notice and had already disappeared into his room.

He’s happy … for us? Oh God!

As if in a trance, I wandered into my room and pushed the door shut behind me. And then I stood there, in this white room with nothing but a bed and a lamp, and suddenly felt so out of place.

My thoughts were already wandering back to Lucien. I could still hardly believe that it was him I wanted. His scent alone, albeit mixed with cigarette smoke, made me weak. And that smile! Holy Mary, Mother of God!

I knelt in front of the bed and gazed at the white wall, exactly where Jesus would have been placed on the cross—if Lucien hadn’t beaten him to it. I pulled the suitcase out, pushing the training clothes aside to reveal the collected poems. I had neatly stored the colored sheets.

When I became aware of the emptiness of the room again, I remembered Lucien’s words. He had called it awhite cube. A museum space that at least had more potential than a prison cell.

I looked at the colored sheets in front of me and then back at the plain wall. A little color would really do the room good. A smile spread across my face.

What would Lu think about that?

THE END

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