Free Drift (Lengths) by Steph Campbell, Liz Reinhardt

they’re bad?” I look at him, but those clear green eyes are clouded with confusion. I’m sure he doesn’t know anything about American nursery rhymes or the labyrinth of complications that come from having beautifully naive sisters. “It doesn’t matter. You know what would be great? Some air. I definitely need some air. Would you care to join me?”
    He nods and puts one strong, warm hand on my elbow as he leads me passed the crowd that’s exclaiming over my sister’s genius.
    I put one foot in front of the other and wonder if I’m being my usual stick-in-the-mud self, upset over something that isn’t a real issue. Maybe this is all just me projecting my own screwed up, up-tight, butt-hurt situation onto my sister.
    Isaac finds an empty table in the corner and pulls my chair out. He gets two more glasses of champagne and sets them down. I take a quick sip, not sure if the drink is going to make all the feelings swirling through me calm down or storm more erratically.
    “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks after a few long seconds of pensive quiet.
    I shake my head, but go ahead and ask, “Do you think the fact that my sister was, um, naked in that video was a bad idea on her part?”
    His smile is partially sheepish, and I realize that it’s odd to ask him about my naked sister. “I may be speaking from a unique perspective. I’m an artist first and foremost, Lydia. I’ve been sketching the nude body since before I understood all the ways it could be most beautiful. The artist who made that video, Salomina Corsit, is a very brave one. She’s doing incredible work, and—though it may be shocking visually—she doesn’t do what she does to shock. She does it to crack open things some people would rather have hidden away. She brings them to the light.”
    I rub my thumb over a smudge on my glass. “It’s not that I don’t... like ...nudity. I guess the ‘bringing to the light’ part is the strange thing for me. Maybe it’s conservative of me, but I feel like some things have their place in the shadows.” I watch his eyebrow quirk up and rush to explain. “Not because they’re embarrassing or shameful. Because they’re intimate. Vulnerable. And exposing them to the light might shrivel them.”
    He slides his hand across the table. Those long, strong fingers curl around my wrist and splay out over my knuckles. When I’m finally able to look up from our twisted hands, I see how hungrily his mouth twitches when he looks at me.
    “I think the way you feel is beautiful. And I agree that some things are best left behind closed doors. But your sister did not look ‘about to shrivel.’ She looked like she came alive. I imagine because she trusts Salomina.”
    I try to tug my hand back to break his spell over me. He holds tight for second, then lets go suddenly. It makes me wish for more from him immediately. “Trust is a tricky thing. It can bite you hard when you least expect it to.”
    “It’s a risk,” he declares, smiling like we’re still flirting.
    I wish we were.
    I finish my drink and stand. “I should probably see if my sister is ready to go.” At that moment a loud cheer goes up from inside.
    Isaac stands next to me, his long body almost too close to mine and inching closer with every labored breath. The two of us are tucked away, hidden in this quiet corner insulated from the crowd. He brushes a piece of my hair back from my shoulder.
    “The film runs on a forty minute loop. I think we left when it was about ten minutes in. We probably have half an hour.” There’s a rushed hitch to the last statement, and my mind stretches and rubs against what I could do with Isaac for half an hour.
    Not that I would. Or will. But I could . If I were brave enough.
    Or dumb enough.
    And, as if my brain wants to prove just how completely it’s turned to mush, I find my hand reaching out to press against the crisp white cloth of his dress shirt. I plant my hand hard, until I can feel the heat