"Why? Do you think so little of yourself that you should only skinjack people less attractive than you are? Why not a girl as beautiful as you?"
Allie couldn't look away from the reflection. "I'm not beautiful... ."
"Then I think you don't see yourself clearly. You are on the inside what she is on the outside. And your outside is pretty good too."
Finally she broke away from her reflection and turned to him. "We should give these people back their bodies."
"Yes," agreed Milos, "but first the dance."
He held out his hand to her. She looked at it for the longest time, then she put her hand in his, ending their little cat-and-mouse game. But now a new game had begun.
Milos, in the body of the beautiful young man, led her to the living room, where all the furniture had been pushed aside to create a dance floor. A dozen couples were dancing, and people without partners danced as well to the steady beat. Allie was never much of a dancer, but this girl came furnished with extensive muscle memory when it came to dancing. Allie found herself dancing better than she ever had before, and sweat soon began to bead on her forehead. She had almost forgotten the curious sensation of perspiration!
The song segued into another, and they kept on dancing through two songs, three, and then the pace slowed. The fourth song was a slow dance, and Allie found herself moving right into it. Milos's arms swept around her, drawing her in, the space between them vanished, and she could smell cologne on his neck. She had to remind herself it was neither his cologne, nor his neck.
It was halfway through the song that Allie realized this girl was in love with this boy. And while the girl's mind and soul might have been asleep, her body was not.
Suddenly the room felt like a sauna, and Allie had to get out.
Pulling away from Milos, she hurried, pushing past the minefield of dancing couples, and out the back door, to an expansive pool deck.
It was cool out here, but there was no escape from the party. People were clowning around in and around the pool. People sat on lounge chairs. One couple sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi, making out.
"Get a room," someone griped.
Although Allie looked away, the lip-locked couple stayed in the corner of her eye, and her gaze kept being drawn to them.
She felt hands slip around her waist. Milos's fleshie. She turned to him, and once more the space between them compressed until they were in that close-dance position again. Milos brushed his hand down her arm, raising gooseflesh all over her borrowed body, until his hand reached hers, and he clasped it.
"Look at me, Allie," he said gently, and so she did. "We break no rules," he said. "These two are already dating. They arrived at the party holding hands." He touched her face and although she knew it would be wise to back away, she didn't.
"Some feelings are lost to us in Everlost," Milos said. "Some feelings can only be felt in living bodies. Do you understand?"
She did understand, and she was unprepared for it. In life she had never experienced how overwhelming, how strong those feelings could be. How they could confound the most rational of minds.
"And," said Milos, his voice barely a whisper in her ear, "there are things we cannot do in Everlost ... but we can do them here, in these bodies."
Then he leaned in and kissed her. It was profoundly different from an Everlost kiss. An Everlost kiss was about connection, not passion. An Everlost kiss lacked this rudeness, this rawness of flesh, and the insane breathlessness of two hearts pounding faster and faster.
In that instant, Allie forgot who she was, and who she was in. She forgot this was not her body at all. She let the mind of the girl surface, and it began to swim and blend with her own thoughts, until she didn't know whether she was the girl or the intruder.
And for a moment, just for a moment, it felt right. It felt perfect. How could it not be? Their lips separated, and both of them stole a quick breath.
"We could be for each other ... whatever we need," Milos said.
This time it was Allie moving forward, pressing her lips against his, not wanting this feverish, dizzying sensation to ever end. This body she was in--it shivered with the thrill of it. "Get a room," shouted the same heckler, but the voice sounded part of another universe.
If Milos had, in that moment, lifted her in those strong, borrowed arms, and carried her off to a quiet place, she would have allowed him to do it, letting herself be swallowed by passion.
But the moment passed, her senses returned, and she pushed him away.
"Milos, no!"
He looked at her, out of breath, eyes barely in control. "Why no?"
She had trouble answering him, and so he kissed her again. She knew if she gave herself over to the kiss one more time, all would be lost. She would gladly be consumed by it. This is what we are meant to do, Milos had said. This is what we are meant tobe. It took every ounce of her will to say--
"Lesson over."