Don’t touch me, you say. She starts. The boy with the videos looks confused. You are confused too. The words just came out, you don’t know where from. But suddenly you’re overcome by revulsion, like you’re looking in a mirror and your reflection is rotting. You okay, babe? Elaine asks. You don’t know what to say back. Except you do. I hate you, you say. I fucking hate you, you say. By you of course you mean yourself, in the mirror, but there’s no time to explain that. Your hand is still in hers, you tug it free, then you turn and you run.
