The music swells and Xander’s crying in the car as they speed out, toward dawn, free of his old life and all its awful weight, hugging close the turtle with whom he absolutely did not have sex.

“It took so long to see what was right in front of my eyes!” Xander hiccup-laughs, wiping his face. The turtle slowly wiggles in a way that is not sexual. “Thank you, Mixie. For that amazing CD, for dancing together in the rain, for the moment when—thank you for you.”

I can’t emphasize enough that he doesn’t have sex with the turtle.