A few months before I turned 17 my mother finally took Wonderland books public. It turned our family wealthier than we'd ever imagined. She wanted to ensure that I got the best education possible for the remaining time of my education. It was a hard decision for her but she chose to send me to a boarding school across the state. I have to admit that I knew I'd miss my family, but I also saw the opportunities it afforded me.

When the time came to begin my junior year of high school, I said goodbye to Chinatown.  It was a long drive across the state and my mind was racing with thoughts by the time I began the walk to my dorm room. There were so many possibilities that awaited me, including one I'd never allowed myself to contemplate before now. But I had moving and education to worry about now.

I was even more shy than usual as I walked through the halls to my dorm room. I talked to no one as I carried my bag in my hand. I guess I was just sort of lost in my own world, which didn't really change once I reached my dorm room.

I opened the door and there was this girl using the small space to practice dancing moves. I assumed she was my roommate. She was quite good. Her body kept perfect lines no matter what force of motion she applied. It was like she had mastered flight in a normal human body. I'm not sure why but seeing her made me think back to this sculpture I'd made of a woman I'd seen in a lingerie ad when I had been much younger. It wasn't her actual appearance, her hair was brown and up in a tight bun, not in relaxed jet-black waves like the model. Nor was her body as soft as the model's, you could see the long tight muscle's on this dancers body. It wasn't even her face; she seemed too intense and independent to ever want to be possessed, as the model seemed to wish for. It was the effortless grace with which she stretched her body beyond what should've been possible to a human body, seamlessly moving from one move to another…ending on a pirouette, after which she turned and faced me.

Her face was expressionless but her eyes were intense. Within a few seconds it became obvious to me that she had seen me watching her for what must have been several minutes, never looking away once for even a second. I guess she must have felt it was only fair to return it. So I stood there still as she looked over every inch of me, and my Chinese modesty kicked in, in a bigger way than I've ever experienced before or since. I could tell I was naked in this girl's eyes… not necessarily in the sense that she was strongly lusting after me, just that she saw everything about me. She especially saw anything I may have been trying to hide. Her first smile came after my embarrassment became physically visible. It was a very subtle smile, like the Mona Lisa. At first I thought she was simply mocking my embarrassment. The more I thought about it though I realized it was a salute to the fact that no matter how unbearable it became to me I never did anything to stop it. In all honesty I was not brave enough to do what I just did. But I did it anyway. And that was the first impression of me for her, that I was a total coward who was capable of acts of bravery few soldiers could fathom should the moment merit.

After she gave me her smile, she mercifully left the room and let me unpack. I carried thoughts of her with me the rest of the day as I went through my first day of classes. On my way back to my dorm room at the end of the day I spotted a poster for the school's ballet program. Open sign up was being held. I stashed my books and went to the room. I had never studied any kind of dance before, but I bluffed my way through every question they asked and made my way into the program. I lied like I never had in my life (which is saying something for a person in my position) but it paid off. I made it into the program.

They were telling me about the arrangements I'd need to make before our next practice tomorrow when my roommate walked in with her bag. The instructor then introduced us. She called my roommate over and said to her

"Thank you Ms. Nelson. I'd like to introduce you to the newest member of the ballet program. This is Jennifer Ming."

"I usually go by Jen." I interrupted.

 "Well JEN, this is one of our best students Erica Nelson."

"We've met." My roommate said.

Her face had an astonished look to it, though her voice lacked even a hint of it. Sadly beyond her surprise I couldn't figure out anything else she might've felt about my presence there. On my way out of the room it occurred to me that I had just signed up for a program in which I had no experience, and no aptitude for in order to spend more time with MY ROOMMATE.

I went to my dorm room and began my homework. It was fairly challenging, but I still finished it quickly. I took an hour or so to sculpt. I had brought a few small scraps of metal with me and I was able to bend them into a semblance of order. I gave it the shape of Erica mid-leap… with its monstrous crumples characteristic my level of skill with my particular style of sculpting.

As I heard the door open I made sure I was not in the middle of any sculpting processes and tried to hide the sculpture. I managed to accomplish the most important part, but Erica saw the sculpture.

"Was that something you did?" she asked softly.

"It was a hobby I had back in Chinatown. I don't really know how often I'm going to get to do it here though." I replied

Her steps were very soft and deliberate as she walked towards the desk I was sitting at. She placed a hand on the back of my chair to support her weight and lightly traced the planes of my sculpture

"I think that would be really sad if you can't devote time to this. It's a little raw but you're really good."

I'm glad she was standing behind me when she said that, because she didn't see my massive blushing as I said, "Thanks, I've never really shown my work off before."

"I don't think I've ever seen anyone use a technique like that with this type of materials. I mean, even with the surface level crinkling, how did you get that level of detail out of… steel?"

"We just met, I have to leave some things mysterious."

"Fair enough." She responded as she walked towards her bed away from me.

I was afraid the moment might be over if I didn't do something to keep it going a little longer. So I asked her

"Have you gone here for a while?"

She responded by saying, "Yeah, it's one of the best schools in the country. And when you're Steven Nelson's daughter, you get the best of everything."

"Steve Nelson? The software developer? The man who revolutionized home computing?"

"That's my dad."

I had to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"For a while I thought I might be the most famous person I'd meet here."

She had this odd smirk on her face as she said, "I've never heard of you."

"Well not me, my mom. We're the big new success story all the business magazines have been writing about. The little bookstore that could out of Chinatown. Wonderland books."

"Oh yeah, my dad just bought stock in your company. You better not let us down."

"You don't know my mom. That won't be a problem."

It was late so she was exhausted from dancing and was ready to go to sleep. Before she nodded off she said one last thing to me.

"See you at ballet tomorrow, Jen."

"Goodnight, Erica." I said back to her.

The next day I just sort of coasted through my classes, scared out of my mind for what was coming at 4:30. I showed up at the dance studio insanely early and changed into my leotard and started stretching on the bar. After a few minutes I looked in the mirror and saw Erica watching me from the door, just as I'd been watching her yesterday. I was visibly shaking at this point but I didn't let on that I saw her.

After everyone arrived I merged into formation and desperately tried to follow commands. I'd been so scared; I didn't even notice Erica was directly behind me. I blew move after move until Erica came up beside me and whispered to me.

She said, "You're not really a ballerina are you?"

She caught me. I couldn't lie. "I've never even danced before at all."

She didn't say anything for a while, until she saw I was struggling with a leg extension on the bar. Without saying a word she turned towards me. She just looked me straight in my eyes without any expression. She grabbed onto my calf and moved it into position. She lingered just a little too long when she held my leg, but she made no apology for it. None was needed.

I barely made it through my first practice. The instructors were already suspicious of me. But it was over. After words I went straight back to the dorm room while Erica continued practice for another few hours. I simply took the opportunity to sculpt.

I stopped when she arrived. She sort of silently admired my work and we both studied and went to sleep. With the exception of me occasionally working out new ideas for sculptures in my sketchbook that's how it worked for months.

I went to class. If I saw Erica in class we didn't talk. We went to ballet practice; I purposely blew moves so she'd physically correct me. I'd sculpt, she'd continue practicing. And we didn't speak in the dorm room.  </SPAN>It continued like this until one night at practice.

Everyone else had left, and she walked up to me and told me to stop.

"They're thinking about cutting you Jen, you're just not getting it. At least that's what they think."

"And what do you think Erica?"

"I think you're not living up to what you can really do. And that I've been encouraging it."

"What are you saying?"

"You're a very capable girl, you can get this. And even though you've been blowing moves right and left since the day you started, I think if I gave you the right incentive you could be just as good as you're bad right now."

"I'm just not getting it. I've known it. You've known it. It was fun while it lasted, but it's over."

"Do a pirouette. Perfectly. Right now."

 "Not like that's even possible, but what do I get if I do?"

"I'll kiss you."

I was shocked at what she was saying. I had to ask to see if I heard her right.

"What was that?"

"You heard me. If you do a perfect pirouette, I will kiss you full on the lips right here, right now."

Without another word passing between us I started the process. It took me seventeen tries. Sometimes I'd get halfway through it and then just fall. The bruises on my legs, ribs, and my buttocks were so bad towards the end I was close to tears but I kept trying. And finally on the seventeenth try I nailed it. I probably could've used my ability to help get through it, but she might've seen it and wondered about it. And on top of that I don't think I would've honestly been meeting her challenge.

When it hit me what I did I almost had a heart attack. I just fell back, and would've fallen to the floor if I hadn't hit the support bar. My features were just totally limp and I was in shock with what I'd been capable of doing. Erica was kind enough to let the shock fade a little first. She made sure I was strong enough to support myself on the bar first. I was holding myself up by my hands behind me. She walked up very, very slowly. She reached both of her hands out and held me by my cheeks. She closed her eyes. I closed mine. And she leaned in and kissed me. After all the hype she'd given it she didn't want to disappoint me so it was long, soft and delicate.

When she finally broke off, she just walked back to our room. I fell to the floor. I stayed there for a long time. When I finally could stand up I had this humungous smile that I couldn't shake all the way back to the dorm room.

Erica was already in bed reading when I got there. All she said when I got in was she asked if I'd be taking my dancing seriously from now on. I told her I would, showered and went to bed. Sadly this would be the first time of many that my art would take a back seat to her. Even though she was very supportive of it, I could never actually do it in front of her. We didn't speak of what had just happened, but neither of us could stop smiling.

And that was the first shift in our dynamic. After that we talked more frequently about different topics. We talked about dancing a lot because it was something we had in common and it was something she was passionate about. I was very guarded about my sculpting however. But we talked about many neutral topics, business, history, art, literature, music and many others. We kind of started to move past our non-verbal communication for the first time. Though that would continue to be a huge factor between us.

Ballet practice changed as well. If I got a moment with Erica I was happy for it, but I didn't manufacture them any more. And I didn't usually try to interrupt her extra practice each night. I took the opportunities to continue sculpting. Erica would now occasionally comment on them specifically. To that degree I allowed her in on it, but I never discussed my sculpting process. Though over time I noticed how much the extra practice eventually wore on Erica.

She came in completely sore every night and just had to collapse in bed. I always wanted more time with her, but I didn't want to impose on her craft. One night when she came in sore I commented on it.

"How much pain are you trying to hide?"

"That's an odd question."

"I'm serious. I've seen what you put your body through."

"I bet you have."

I paused in a mild state of shock. But then I fought through it

"So what if I have. You're limping in and collapsing every night." To which I sheepishly added "And I kind of like talking to you."

With a hint of cynicism in her voice, she said, "Well what do you plan to do about it?"

It was almost painful to push these words out of my mouth but I had to fight through it.

"I…could…you know…maybe…possibly…give you a massage.  NOTHING TOO BIG…just maybe a foot rub and a calf massage."

I think she just said yes out of sheer embarrassed amusement. But I don't think she ever regretted it. I was very attentive to any pain or tension she was experiencing. Since we spent so little time speaking but so much time paying attention to each other, I could read her very well.

Her state improved massively over time. She became noticeably lighter and happier. Though her emotional state in conjunction with our massages became very conflicted. At times she seemed to utterly enjoy the process, others she just seemed entirely frustrated with me. One night she just said to me as I kneaded her calf muscle.

"You know, you can ask for more."

"I don't understand what you're saying."

"Yeah you do Jen. That's what's frustrating me."

"What if you say no?"

"That's a chance you'll just have to take. But you can ask me."

"I've had these feelings all my life. I channeled them into my art, but it would've tore my world apart if I'd ever acted on them back home in Chinatown. I'm still afraid to take that chance Erica."

"I know. But if you honestly want something with me, you need to brave enough to take a chance on it. I came to terms with it a long time ago. If I came to you that wouldn't prove anything. You need to prove this to yourself. If you're not brave enough to take this chance…you're not brave enough for me to count on."

I moved away from her. And we sat together in silence for a long time. Never looking away from each other.

"Could I…kiss…you?"

"Yeah Jen, nothing's stopping you."

 So I did.

After that night, we stopped letting things remain unsaid between us. I never told her about the process of my sculpting, but I told her about my subject matter. How for the longest time I'd just collect photos of beautiful women from everywhere. Clothed, unclothed, scantily clothed, the only common denominator was that the women were beautiful and the composition was well done. I told her how I would just spend hours drawing them… and ultimately sculpting them. I told her that part but left out why sculpting became so important. I mean I told her that my drawings were like sculptures on paper… I never told her why I started to enjoy sculpting. She even started actively posing for me after a while when she admitted that she knew all the sculptures were of her.

She'd just get into a pose that would show off those beautiful bodylines she was capable of. Showing off her tightly muscled slender legs, or just her overall flexibility. I usually had her pose in her underwear. She offered to do it nude a few times but I didn't take her up on it right away. I told her how badly I wanted to see it, but I also wanted it to be really special the first time I did. And she grudgingly agreed.

"If you need us to wait, I'll wait. I'm used to it." She told me.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Christ Jen, you don't think you're my first girlfriend do you?"

 Part of me was tempted to be frustrated that this was the way she chose to tell me that she was massively more experienced at this than me, and that she felt like she had to handle me with kid gloves. The other part was just overjoyed at the fact that she had just called me her girlfriend. The second part won out and I just pounced on her and started kissing her. I just laid on the ground on top of her and kissed her over and over. When I finally stopped I asked her something.

"Would you come home with me this Christmas?"

"Where did that come from?"

"I'm serious, you can meet my family and we can get some serious alone time?"

"Do they know about you? About us?"

"That's the great part. No they don't. You're just my best friend visiting from school. My nice sweet friend who's so unobtrusive that you do not even mind sharing a bed."

She had a hard time suppressing her eagerness

"Are you saying what I think you are?"

I had an interesting way to make my point. We'd been experimenting lately and the farthest we'd gone was over the clothes groping.  I stuck my hand straight up her shirt and into her bra.

"Yeah, I am."

"I'll tell my parents in the morning."

 We just kissed into the night and got ready to make our plans.

Everyone agreed and we just started making preparations for the next few weeks. Christmas weekend we flew into my parents' new house. They'd moved to the other coast and bought a large estate just outside New York City. Erica looked so cute in tight pants and a winter coat that I had a hard time containing myself after being picked up by my family. We had to go through the motions of being best friends but I just kept thinking about what the payoff for our charade would be. Though I will admit to a trick that I had to do occasionally to break the tension. If we'd been having rather wholesome conversation with my family and I got a moment alone with her I'd just whisper something obscene into her ear, usually something I planned on doing to her later.

At dinner we talked about our families and their businesses. We were good, no hand holding under the table, no footsie, nothing. We worked really hard to not go to bed too early, we didn't want to get caught. We especially didn't want to get caught before getting finished or even started.

By the time we reached the bedroom the tension and anticipation was so thick you could touch it. I told her I'd change into my nightclothes in the bedroom and I wanted her to change in the bathroom.  It was kind of an extension of how I treated life at school. I tried never to look when she changed clothes in our room, and I never looked at her when we were both naked in communal showers. I didn't want to see her unless I could touch her… REALLY touch her. And I didn't want to make love until I was ready.  I was ready.

She came in wearing this silky nightgown that went down to about mid-thigh and had spaghetti straps on the shoulders. I kind of hoped she wasn't wearing panties, but it turned out she was. But that was all, the nightgown and her panties. Her nails had a dark red polish on. It was just a few days old, which meant it still looked great but I wouldn't get high if I spent too much time around it. Well, chemically anyway. But as beautiful as everything that she was wearing looked I couldn't take my eyes off her body. Her milky white skin, her soft brown hair that she was wearing down for me falling in soft little curls on her shoulders. And her big brown eyes that housed desire, fear, affection and countless other emotions. I read her and I knew what I needed to do.

I was only wearing an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath. It too came down to mid-thigh but I was offering her no frame of reference for the rest of me. My arms were covered for the most part, as were my legs down to about the knee.  I made sure she was looking at me nice and hard and I guided her eyes down to the bottom of my shirt. I pulled it up very slowly and deliberately, never rushing but never stopping. Every few seconds she saw a new few inches of golden bronze skin. I kept pulling my shirt until it finally slipped off my wrists and hands over my head. I was standing completely naked before her. I was tempted to dip back into my modesty, and each time I was tempted I just displayed more of myself with more pride. Then she interrupted.

"Jen, are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I've never been so sure of something in my life. But if you're not I'd be honored to just spend the night with you. Holding the woman I love. But I'm going to warn you; I got naked for you, so don't think the clothes are coming back on."

It was then that I knew she wasn't as experienced as she'd made herself out to be. It was ok. I just decided that the last thing either of us needed was pressure. So I just got under the covers with her and started spooning and just holding her.  When out of nowhere she just said to me:

"I love you too, Jen."

That was something that seemed unique to us. The important things just always seemed to slip out. But it didn't hit me until she said that, that I had just told her I loved her for the first time. It was the first time I had said it, but I had meant it since the day I saw her dancing in our dorm room for the first time. I reached out and pulled her head gently towards me. I gave her a long kiss and just held her. She moved towards me, onto her opposite side so that she could face me. She had a hard time looking away from my body, so I didn't try to stop her.

I began to stroke her hair and her arms. I was very gentle about it and tried to enjoy it just as an end in itself and not as something directly tied into sex. After a few minutes of this the embarrassment melted from Erica's face and she just gave me a warm smile, and cupped my left breast in her hand. Part of my intention of moving into the bed with her was to make her comfortable enough to make the next move, and she just had.

I delicately pulled the spaghetti straps of her nightgown down her shoulders. I did it very slowly and deliberately. I wanted to give her every chance I could for her to back out of this if she wasn't ready, but I also didn't want to actually stop the process at any point in case she was. The straps first cleared her arms and left the alabaster skin of her arms and shoulders that they covered exposed. She didn't stop me. I pushed the main portion of her dress down, exposing her small perky breasts, then her stomach, then and her legs as I slid the garment off her feet. She hadn't stopped me yet. Now I sat at her feet and offered myself a singular pause. I looked down at the final remaining article of clothing between the two of us and then I looked in her eyes, as if to say "If I can't share this with you, don't give me a chance to hope for it." She just nodded to me. I began to slide her panties down her legs as she bent to help me at every turn. She finally gave some voice to her embarrassment before we began.

"I was kind of worried I might get too loud. As much as I want this, I don't want to take a chance on loosing you."

"We'll figure something out. But I think we've both waited too long for this to let it go."

Within minutes we were making love for the first time. Both the first time altogether and the first time of many that night. After spending most of the night simply exploring each other we finally just collapsed in each other's arms, without remembering to put our clothes back on.

That could've spelled disaster but I had a little guardian angel that next morning. We were supposed to be attending to some family function early in the morning, and everyone wondered where we were. Finally, my sister Sandy offered to rouse us.

Erica and I were exhausted after the night before so we didn't hear any of the noises going on in the house, not even our door opening. Sandy tried to surprise us, and ironically wound up being the one who was surprised. She saw Erica lying in my tight embrace, and though we had the covers up, there was enough showing of both of us for her to see that we were both naked. We awoke to the sound of hysterical laughter.

We tried in vain to pull the covers over our bodies. But Sandy just told us through her benevolent laughter.

"Breakfast is being served. You two lovebirds should get some clothes on before anyone else sees you."

We all just had to laugh at it. But she did have a point. Sandy is the only person in my family for whom this would've ended as pleasantly as it did. My mother or stepfather wouldn't have approved and would've done everything in their power to break us up. And Aaron would've just been a pain. If he didn't tell mom we'd be hearing sermons for the rest of the trip and he'd make sure we didn't get much alone time. Sandy was just happy to see me finally find someone I could love who loved me back.

It was a very nice Christmas break. Sandy ran interference for us from time to time. Erica got to know everybody. And I found every opportunity and excuse I could to have sex with Erica, who didn't seem to mind my ingenuity.  On a side note after this I never refused an offer from her to pose nude again.

It was interesting looking at our relationship, with just a bit of detachment.  We started out both very guarded, and over time as we hit each new level in the relationship. We let each other in a little further.

Over time I told her about my mother's escape from China. My birth father had been a member of the communist army and always prided himself on living up to the proletarian ideal, and always giving more of himself to the collective than necessary. The government had just passed the single child ordinance and female children became expendable.  I was one year old and my mother was pregnant with Aaron. The look in his eyes frightened me. My own father was ready to kill me for some god-forsaken greater good. Beyond that my mother never liked to talk about what happened between that and stepping off the boat on American shores.

America was wonderful, but over time I just became trapped between different worlds. Anyone born here wouldn't believe what I faced overseas. And over time new things about me developed that separated me from anyone who would understand the rest.

But I really think Erica understood me. She told me absolutely everything about herself. And I told her about everything but my sculpting, and my ability. She was so open with her parents that they made me sleep in the guest bedroom when I stayed for holiday breaks. But it was nice. I could sneak kisses without having to worry. We didn't sneak around, but we got acknowledged as a couple.

As the years passed and we went from being boarding school roommates to sharing an off campus apartment when we went to the same college. It was kind of funny, we saw our straight friends' relationships come and go while we were indestructible. She'd shared everything with me, and I'd shared everything but the most important thing about me with her.

As college went along I became much more skilled at my craft. I asked her to allow me privacy to sculpt and she always did. She never complained but I know she really started to feel left out towards the end. From time to time that faded when I showed her a new piece. I studied metallurgy in college, and one of my biggest projects was an alloy, which I could use in sculpting. Something with a low melting point and an interesting color to it. I didn't want something to mold from scratch, just something for the surface…for texture.

I'll never forget the tears in Erica's eyes the first time she touched one of my sculptures. I'd been hiding my work from her for months and for the one I was about to show off was actually kind of old. It was actually a frame that I'd made from some junkyard scrap, based on one of the first sketches I'd made of her after I started letting her pose nude. Arms outstretched, back arched, one leg stretched behind her, the other bent at the knee and resting on her bed. She was so sore after I was done sketching her I think she wanted to kill me at one point. But I paid her back for her long hours of strenuous activity the only way I knew how, with more strenuous activity

The burnt ashtray version of my rendering of her stayed in a secluded corner of my studio for months. I was scared I wouldn't do it justice if I tried taking it to the next level. I levitated two sheets of my new alloy from the opposite end of my studio and placed them in front of and behind the frame.  It was kind of like the first time I made love to her. I had an idea of what I wanted to accomplish but I was crippled with fear of ruining everything that had come before it. I'd already ruined seven good frames trying this new technique. But each one took longer to be ruined, so I was encouraged.

I sat down in front of the small metal wall. I put my welding mask on and started holding the blowtorch into place.  It took almost an hour for enough of the metal to melt for me to start my work.  As it melted so much it almost began to drip onto the floor I started pulling a steady flow onto onto the frame.  At first I just filled the cracks and tried to get rid of the sharp edges and random crunches. Once it had a rounded shape to it and no trace of the scrap metal frame remained visible I began the difficult part.

Most people would've called my sculpture good, even great at that point… I wasn't satisfied. It kept her overall shape and would be smooth to the touch, but I still didn't see enough of the woman I fell in love with in it. I started just placing thin strips of liquid metal on the surface and just molding them like clay. I just closed my eyes and remembered, and molded.

I spent hours on it. And I missed days' worth of classes for it. I'd just collapse in my chair when I couldn't work anymore, but I didn't leave until it was finished. When I finally showed Erica I'd already hid out a couple days so that my burns would have time to heal and she wouldn't worry (I disappear for days and think extending it will keep her from worrying). I think she was almost ready to leave me after that one… the secrecy was really getting to her. And then she saw the sculpture.

I know that she wanted to ask how I was capable of such detail in metal without a smelter, or any kind of molding tools. But she couldn't do anything but just stare, and trace the smooth planes of her own body. I think the tears in her eyes came from the fact that she'd never really seen the way that I saw her. I told her that I thought she was beautiful but I don't think she really knew what I meant before she saw that sculpture. She was perfect in my eyes and through my hands. It occurred to me that this was the crowning moment of our love. In one moment she saw the culmination of all the potential she had seen in me the first time she saw my sculpture and the representation of all the beauty I had seen in her.

That was the last time I consciously avoided telling her my secret.  It was a few months before graduation.

Once we graduated I decided to come clean about everything to everyone. We were making a trip to New York to sit down with my family and I was going to tell them that Erica wasn't just my best friend and there was a reason we had remained roommates all these years. I was going to tell mom that I didn't think I'd ever be ready to take over Wonderland, but that I knew Sandy would be far more qualified than I ever was.  I was going to tell her that I was going to dedicate my life to sculpting, and if necessary use my metallurgical skills to pay for my survival, but I had no place in Wonderland.

And more importantly I was going to tell Erica the secret of my sculpting. I was going to tell her what happened to the eight year old girl who was never the same after her first MRI. I was going to not only tell her, but also show her what I could do. And I would top it off my showing the woman, who made me think flight was possible in a normal human being, what genuine flight is like. I'd take her up to the highest point in the city. I'd give her a big kiss. And All I'd have to say is "No more secrets." And she would know everything that sentence implied.

We moved our possessions into a storage unit in the city our old apartment was in. I don't think we were quite sure where we were going, so we simply carried a few travel bags everywhere we went after graduation. Erica was looking into joining a dance troupe and I'd just sold my first license for one of my alloys so even if my trust fund got revoked and I became completely cut off by my family, I wasn't going to starve.

I told her my plan for my family. And I hinted at what I was going to tell her.  Sandy was still attending school in New York so she agreed to take the two of us in while we planned the big day.  Looking back this decision was so stupid. I can't believe I decided to go through with it.   I was in New York with my girlfriend, and being in a smaller city with less paparazzo had really spoiled me. I wanted to go out with her.

"What the hell are you talking about?! You're the one who's always saying 'I don't want to be outed by the National Enquirer.'" You're coming out to your family tomorrow night. Why do you want to risk it?" She said.

"I want to make sure I'm ready for this. I want to know I can be that bold and that honest."

She just gave me that "You're crazy" smile she always gave me before she was about to agree to some outlandish idea of mine. I decided that the best route would be to just go to a very low profile lesbian bar.  It was nice, we just danced and drank and genuinely enjoyed ourselves for a few hours before we got ready to head back to Sandy's.  As we walked out of the bar I just couldn't help but hang off of her and kiss her. I was happier than I'd ever been.

We walked out on the pretense of hailing a cab, but I was ready to fly her home. I was tipsy but I was very aware of every piece of metal in the area. Some trashcans, a dumpster, cars, girders, fire escapes, and a few other small random assorted items was all that I noticed in the area for quite a while.  Then I noticed a few pieces of metal coming closer.

I felt a large set of metal piercings close to a small gun approaching us. About 3 feet away from him keeping pace, just a little slower was a steel leg plate that was carrying a switchblade.  The guy with the piercings was small, had a scraggly beard, long greasy hair and he was wearing a nasty beat-up looking pair of jeans and a worn out t-shirt from some out-dated heavy metal band. The other guy was big and bald wearing a sweat stained tank top with a pair of greasy work pants. When they came closer I realized how drunk they were. If I'd been thinking more myself I probably wouldn't have been hanging off Erica the way I was.  When they saw us, I don't know what came over them, they thought we were good looking, they were mad we were gay or that we were an inter-racial couple, or maybe they just wanted to destroy the first thing they saw.

The big one pulled his knife and grabbed Erica. The little one with the piercings pulled the gun on me. The big one just started groping her and licking her. I'd never even been in a fistfight before. I'd never stood up to anyone, not in any real way. I think it shocked me more than anyone when the next words came out of my mouth.

"Step away from her if you want to live!"

Erica just responded in total shock "What are you doing Jen? He's got a gun he'll kill you!"

Yeah, he did have a gun, and the other guy had a knife. I loved two things in this world. I loved Erica Nelson and I loved metal. When you've had a power like mine for as long as I had it changes you. Metal meant more to me than I could ever communicate in words. I understood it more than anything else in this world and it offered me a level of comfort nothing else but Erica offered me. And they were using it against her. I don't think it would've bothered me as much if it hadn't been metal they were using… I would've just stopped them and sent them on their way. I wanted to hurt them.

I unleashed the longest, most vile, string of obscenities I could on the guy holding the gun. I agitated him enough to shoot me. For a second I think Erica thought that she'd lost me and she was going to have to take whatever these men put her through.  And then she noticed how slowly the bullet was actually moving, and that it had changed directions. The big guy was in a little bit of shock so he had his arm stretched away from Erica. I sent the bullet straight through his bicep. I then began to pull the scrawny guy's piercings away from his body, nearly ripping many of them out. He kept screaming and I wouldn't stop. I swung the gun around and smacked the little guy in the face a few times, drawing some blood, breaking some bones. And then I disassembled the gun in mid-air. I pushed the big guy back about ten feet through his metal plate. I stood there for a few minutes just circling him with his own switchblade like it was a blender. I let it catch him a few times and then I let him run along with his friend.

I was hyperventilating when they finally ran off. I was scowling so intensely my face hurt. And then when they faded from view I let the tension go away. I just dropped everything I was still levitating. And when I finally realized the danger passed I just started crying, it was just a little bit at first but I was still ok…and then I looked over to Erica.

I tried my hardest to summon something resembling a smile for her. All I saw on her face was horror. I tried to walk up to her and just explain everything and maybe share a hug. She flinched from me harder than she flinched from the attackers.

"What is it girl?" I asked her

"Was this it? IS THIS WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO TELL ME? IS THIS WHAT YOU'VE BEEN HIDING FROM ME FOR SIX YEARS?"

"Just let me explain. I was going to tell you everything tonight."

"What, that you're some kind of witch or monster or mutant."

"You don't mean that? Do you?"

"Stay away from me you freak! Six years and you never told me about this? Why should I even believe anything you tell me? All this time you've been sitting on something this dangerous and you never thought to tell me."

"I've never used it like this before. I swear I never even thought of using my ability like this. You were in danger and they were using metal against you. I just couldn't take it."

"Good bye Jen. I loved you."

And with those words she was out of my life forever. I just collapsed into myself on the curb. I couldn't stand. I couldn't move any further than to fish my phone out of my pocket to call Sandy.

In three hours the greatest day of my life had become the worst. I didn't have the strength to come out to my family anymore. I'd lost the woman I loved after I nearly got her killed. And I just had no energy left for anything.  I just crashed on Sandy's couch for a few days after everything that had happened. I still have nightmares about that night and what I was capable of. And I still can't believe how I lost everything in one night.

Years later I'm still trying to figure it out. Would we have stood a chance if I'd just been honest about everything the night I met her. How I saw everything that is good in the world through her body in dance. How I loved her since the moment I met her and I just didn't have the courage to tell her for a long time. And how I use a special faculty that no one else possess to create in steel what she creates with her body.

The night I met her I knew that was the perfect union, the beauty of her body in my steel, and the union of the artists who made each possible. I think I'd be brave enough to say that if I met her today. It's just ironic that everything I ever learned about courage, I learned from Erica Nelson. The tragedy is that I didn't learn it fast enough to save our love.

---Jennifer Ming