I tried to relax my head against his chest, but I couldn’t find my usual nook. And the longer he held me the more I felt myself stiffen. It was all the layers of clothing, I thought, muting the effect of the hug—these coats render everyone so sexless, just hordes of blackened marshmallows marching through the concrete jungle. But I knew it wasn’t the coats. My body was petrified. It had made too many mistakes; it couldn’t be trusted.
