He moaned in misery. “I’m gonna die a virgin,” he said. “You’re a virgin?” I asked, surprised.
“Hazel Grace,” he said, “do you have a pen and a piece of paper?” I said I did.
“Okay, please draw a circle.” I did. “Now draw a smaller circle within that circle.” I did.
“The larger circle is virgins. The smaller circle is seventeen-year-old guys with one leg.”
I laughed again, and told him that having most of your social engagements occur at a children’s hospital also did not encourage promiscuity,
and then we talked about Peter Van Houten’s amazingly brilliant comment about the sluttiness of time,
and even though I was in bed and he was in his basement, it really felt like we were back in that uncreated third space,
which was a place I really liked visiting with him.
Then I got off the phone and my mom and dad came into my room, and even though it was really not big enough for all three of us,
they lay on either side of the bed with me and we all watched ANTM on the little TV in my room.
This girl I didn’t like, Selena, got kicked off, which made me really happy for some reason.
Then Mom hooked me up to the BiPAP and tucked me in, and Dad kissed me on the forehead, the kiss all stubble, and then I closed my eyes.
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