Am I a bad person?

Brain slugs have no written history. They carry their memories in generational hive minds, with important memories shared widely among members to act as a baseline cultural memory. The loss of a single brain slug host and its memories does not mean all of its memories are gone, since any shared memories will be retained by others in the distributed hive mind. Yet once a brain slug host is lost, that unique identity is dead; even if all of the individual memories were gathered together again, the "self" can never be reconstituted. But sometimes, when necessary, the old memories can be loaded into a new host, and a composite personality emerges. One-Who-Is-Reborn-In-Us is as close as brain slugs have to the concept of reincarnation.
—Anastasia Massimi, Slugnomicon: A Guide To Brain Slug Spirituality (unpublished draft)

In his teenage fantasies, Mel had never had to think about what happened after sex. For a few minutes, they lay there in the cool-down, the afterglow. Jenny hadn't climaxed, but she was satiated. Jordan and Rachel were both satisfied. Mel was in **** need of a shower and was sure he smelled like it. The couch needed to be lysoled, and—

Rachel was on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, not looking at anyone. Mel glanced at Jordan and Jenny, then sat down on the floor next to her. He hesitated before putting his arm around his shoulder. At the orphanage, that was a good way to start a fight. Then he did it anyway. She didn't flinch away at the touch,

"Talk to me," he said.

"Am I a bad person?" Rachel asked.

"No," he said, without hesitation.

"I'm a freak," she said. "I found out my sister isn't dead, and a week later we're sharing a boyfriend and a girlfriend, and I'm urging you to have sex with her while a girl is eating me out. And I got off on it. What kind of freak gets off on . . ."

"****," Mel said quietly. "Look, I know I don't have the whole normal nuclear family structure. So maybe I don't have a good grasp of what's normal and what's weird. This whole thing isn't what television told me a relationship is supposed to look like. But I think it's working. No one's being hurt, everyone's having a good time. You are, aren't you? Because if you're not satisfied, I can still eat you out."

He gave her shoulder a squeeze, and her head rolled over onto his shoulder.

"Not every problem can be solved by your tongue in my pussy," Rachel whispered. "I just feel guilty. . I saw you with her. You're nothing like her old boyfriends. All they thought about was themselves. It was only ever sex. You made love to her. And I was just sitting there, getting off on it. It's like I'm using you and her to get off. I used her to get mom off my back. I keep thinking maybe you'd be happier just being with Jordie, and I'm getting in the way. Inserting myself in the way. Jenny just ate me out, and it's not the first time, and it felt good, and I'm still processing what that means and if I'm really gay or bi or what."

They were quiet for a moment.

"****, it's okay if you're not sure if you're gay, or bi, or whatever. I don't have a lot of experience with sex, but I don't think it's about labels," Mel said. "And I don't think you give Jordan enough credit. If she didn't want this, she would have told us, wouldn't have urged us on. If Jenny didn't want this, she would have told us. And if I didn't want this . . . but I do. I think you want this too. If you're a freak because you're suddenly in a relationship with us . . . well, that means I'm a freak, too. Because I like you. I like all of you. I want to be a freak, if it means I can be freaky with you."

The moment he said it, Mel realized he meant it. He almost laughed. Rachel did laugh, a little bark that cut through any impending sobs. Jordan and Jenny sat down on opposite sides of the two; Jordan's arm around Mel, Jenny's arm around Rachel, the brain slug hosts' fingers interlacing behind them.

"Sorry," Rachel said. "I'm just such a mess. Here we were having a good time, and I had to be such a downer."

Jordan laid her free hand on her sister's forearm, index finger sketching letters that Mel couldn't read on the soft, freckled skin. It made Rachel smile. A memory of something shared between just the two of them.

"Yeah, I know," Rachel said. "When we were girls, I'd get like this. Black moods. Finding the dark cloud, not the silver lining. Used to lock myself away at parties and cry."

There was a tear on her cheek. Jenny leaned forward and licked it away.

"****, the sex is great. I love the sex. I love practicing cunnilingus and group blowjobs and just seeing three attractive women naked," Mel said. He remembered what Ha-Yoon had told him. "And when you want it, I want to make love to you, too. But a relationship isn't just about sex. It's being there for each other, right? That's what brought us together. Before we ever had blowjobs and cunnilingus, it was about talking with each other, spending time."

"That, and I like watching you have sex with my sister," Rachel said. But there was no fire in it. She was poking fun at herself.

"Do you remember on the couch, the first night you got here? I never had anyone open up like that to me before. And maybe I didn't know what I was feeling then, but I knew I trusted you, because you trusted me enough to tell me." Mel said. Then he added, "And honestly, it was exciting knowing you were watching me. Best compliment I've ever received, honestly."

That brought another little laugh. Then Rachel had to get up to pee, and the three of them kept seated on the floor for a moment. Mel gave a sigh.

"Did I say the right thing?" he said, looking from one brain slug host to the other.

Jordan and Jenny, their fingers still interlaced over his shoulders, each gave a thumb's up.

Mel smiled.

"Thanks. I'm still new to all of this," he said. "Is it weird to say I want to be a good boyfriend to all three of you?"

They didn't smile. But they leaned forward and kissed his cheeks, one on each side of him, and Mel smiled. Little gestures of affection were something he had grown up without.

They cleaned up. No tears this time. Rachel kissed each of them good night, Jenny and Mel on the lips, Jordan on the cheek, before she left across the hall. Mel showered and felt the tiredness sink in. The scab on his foot itched, but he tried not to scratch at it. The sheets were cool against his bare body as his head sank into his pillow. For once, he thought about turning around and sleeping on his stomach. He wasn't afraid that one of the brain slugs would crawl on him in the night.

Mel did think that perhaps one of his roommates would want a snack, and sleeping on his back gave them better access.

Sleep, however, proved elusive. His mind went over the events of the last few days. Eyes closed, breathing slow, unable to keep his brain from running over the events. Replaying over and over again in his head. Chest rising and falling, slowly but steadily. He remembered each little bump on Jordan's lower back. The weird excitement in ****'s voice as she watched him slide inside.

Then his thoughts went sideways.

Béibhinn the Ghola, her teeth too white, yellow eyes. The smile was somehow more disturbing than Jordan and Jenny's less expressive faces. How easily she had exposed her grey flesh, utterly unfettered. It was weird how much that affected him, how the image of that long, translucent ghola-slug buried along the spine affected him in a way that the brain slugs on his roommates did not. His body was very heavy of a sudden, as a part of him stirred. Aching after recent use, but still answering to a secret excitement, an almost painful stiffness that hovered in the cool air as he stepped down the seven hundred steps to the gates of deeper slumber.