“Colby,” Jason said, in a tone that suggested he’d said it more than once. “Still okay? You look like you went away, sort of. In your head.”
“It’s a lovely kind of going away,” Colby told him. “Like honey. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like honey before. I think I’d recall that. Or maybe I wouldn’t, right now. It’s like the fish.”
“Like the what?”
“Thoughts. Slippery. I’m not certain my legs are working. Does this happen for everyone? Have I been missing something completely wonderful, only it’s not really because it’s like this all the time and I’ve just not been doing it properly, sort of like tea, if that makes any sense…you’re looking at me oddly.”
“I’m honestly not sure,” Jason said, “whether I want to toss you into my bed and make you come so many times you finally forget how to talk, or whether I want to put you into my bed and worry a lot. You’d probably still talk, anyway. And no, it’s not always like—like honey. Are you feeling okay? Also, what aboutthe tea?”