Only Greg ever noticed the notch in my tooth, and only in outline did I tell him about how I got it—how Guin and I stole that couple’s developed film from the “J” cubby at the pharmacy. Tall and poor, she and I had walked through downtown Petaluma in each other’s clothing, our pupils dilated by one drug or shrunk by another. People thought we were fucking, or whatever mean verb they’d use to describe what bodies like ours could do with another, but the closest we came was sleeping naked. The closest we came was dreaming some vague…