She didn't feel perfect, most of the time. Most of the time she felt awkward and abrupt, pointless and foolish in the public eye. She felt it deeply when the critics picked on her thighs, her chin, her hair. She had to stop surfing the Internet when three sites in a row made her cry. Most of the time she agreed with at least some of the criticisms leveled at her.

But that all stopped when she was between Chris and Joey. When she lay between them, curled up like kittens or splayed out like exhausted starfish - then, she was perfect.

When Joey ran his hands through it, her hair was perfect. When Chris lavished them with kisses, her breasts were perfect. When Joey slid them up over his shoulders, her legs were perfect. When Chris rested his head on it to watch Joey, her stomach was perfect.

In their arms, she was beautiful and smooth and porcelain-skinned. Between them, she was a perfect, sexual being. While they stroked and watched and switched, she was ablaze with flawless passion and love.

They made her feel that way with their honest, uncomplicated love. They worshipped her body with theirs, so she slowly became convinced her body must be beautiful, at least from time to time. They lusted after her, and defied society's conventions for her, and braved their dark feelings about each other for her. For her, they broke down the barriers that held them apart so long, and for her they completed the circle. She couldn't help feeling a little powerful as she watched them reach across the gulf between them, and elated when they reached out for her to join them.

The three of them carved a space out of the world just for them, and when she entered it all of her flaws and imperfections fell away - were burned away by the heat in their eyes. At those times, in their arms, she was perfect, and she knew it.