Chapter 6
Ethan was ashamed. The words “I feel shame” were like hot red neon, branded into his heart. Or, maybe his brain, which he now pictured as something gray and spongy, eaten through with holes, like moths had gotten to it. He sat on the couch after Robert and his friend headed out, groped in his pocket, and lit a cigarette.
He blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling and watched it, drumming the fingers of one hand on his lap. He knew Robert had thought Ethan was talking to a lover on Christmas Day, making plans for a clandestine rendezvous. Poor Robert! His mind was filled with such naïve, old-fashioned concepts—innocent and quaint.
Ethan had actually been talking to Tony, his drug dealer up in Boystown, who supplied ever-increasing numbers of young men with the drug of choice t
