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The restlessness isn’t new. In high school, Nathan had dated a never-ending stream of girls, switching every month or two; one notable exception lasted a year. Peter is the sensitive boy with lots of girl friends but few girlfriends. Every girl he dated inevitably disappointed him, mainly because he didn’t know what he was looking for. They didn’t care about anything, or they cared about the wrong things, or they had some sort of agenda for him.

The dreams aren’t new, either. Isaac’s paintings floor him not just because he’s in them, but because they remind him of the dreams he had at sixteen. At first it was just snatches; a landscape, a glimpse of a hallway, a flash of dark hair. He’d awaken and forget until a week later, when he’d glance out of the car window and see the dream-landscape, or open a door into the dream-hallway, or turn a corner and wind up with a face full of dream-hair, this time undeniably real and floral-scented.

The night after the kiss in the rain, Peter dreams that he takes Simone to the prom. Her dress is a sparkly purple and she towers over him in three-inch high shoes with clear heels. As they dance he is shrinking, shrinking, and he has a goatee that is un-growing itself. The reflections from the disco ball that spin across the floor grow larger as the floor rushes up at him. When it hits, he wakes up and understands.

Simone is every girl in high school he ever dated. They are looking for completely different things, and the things he says will only push her back towards Isaac, which, if Peter considers it, is really where she belongs.

Still, he says nothing. She’s beautiful, and he could always be wrong.
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